Harry Potter: The Forgotten Chronicles- Book 5

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight 

Evelyn stepped through the doorway of Grimmauld Place, her heart a mix of relief and apprehension. She had opted to spend Christmas here instead of Hogwarts, seeking solace in the familiar warmth of the house. Evelyn and Harry, amidst unpacking and settling in, found comfort in the house's transformation for the holiday season. The kitchen became a bustling hub of activity with Mrs. Weasley orchestrating festive preparations, while Evelyn and Hermione adorned the house with cheerful decorations. Despite their underlying anxieties, shared moments of laughter and camaraderie emerged. By Christmas Day, the house was alive with excitement and relief, offering a brief respite from their ongoing struggles. Evelyn made her way to the kitchen, finding a spot next to Harry.

The room was a festive sight. Enchanted snowflakes drifted gently from the ceiling, landing on a beautifully decorated Christmas tree. Green and red string lights adorned every surface, casting a warm, twinkling glow across the room. A large pile of presents, all meticulously labeled, sat under the tree, promising holiday cheer.

Mr. Weasley sat by the fire, his face marked by bandages and a black eye, a stark reminder of the recent attack. When he saw Harry and Evelyn enter, he raised a glass in their direction, a gesture of gratitude despite his injuries. They both offered strained smiles in return, the weight of their guilt almost too much to bear.

As they lingered in the doorway, taking in the scene of holiday cheer, Harry spotted Sirius in the opposite doorway. Sirius stood, taking in the room's festive atmosphere with a look of pure contentment, as if savoring a Christmas he had long thought unattainable. He wore a look of childlike wonder, his face illuminated by the festive lights.

With a small, satisfied smile, Sirius turned and exited the room. Harry nudged Evelyn, and together they followed him. They entered the next room to find a large tapestry dominating one of the walls. The tapestry was adorned with the Black family crest, labeled "The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black," with the family motto, "Toujours Pur," embroidered in elegant script.

Sirius turned to face them, his smile widening. "Welcome to my family's most prized possession," he said with a hint of irony.

"You grew up here?" Harry asked, his gaze fixed on the tapestry that dominated the wall.

Sirius nodded, a shadow of bitterness crossing his face. "It was my parents' house. I offered it to Dumbledore as headquarters for the Order. About the only useful thing I've been able to do." He moved closer to the tapestry, his fingers trailing along the edges of the names and the motto.

His eyes fell on a scorched hole beneath which his own name was marked. "My mother did that after I ran away. Charming woman. I was sixteen."

"Where did you go?" Harry asked, his curiosity piqued, mixed with admiration for the strength it must have taken to leave such a life behind.

"Your dad's. The Potters always made me feel welcome," Sirius replied with a faint smile. "I see so much of James in you, Harry. You're very much alike..."

Harry looked down, feeling a knot tighten in his chest. "I'm not so sure..." He glanced at Evelyn, who gave him a reassuring nod. With a deep breath, he continued, "Sirius... When I saw Mr. Weasley attacked, I wasn't just watching. I was the snake. And afterward, in Dumbledore's office... for a moment I wanted to... I wanted to..."

His voice trailed off, anguish clouding his features. He looked at the floor, trying to steady himself. "This connection between me and Voldemort—what if it's because I'm becoming more like him? I feel so angry all the time now. What if, after everything I've been through, something's gone wrong inside me? What if I'm becoming... bad?" His gaze turned to Evelyn, his eyes wide with fear.