Harry Potter and the Ties that Bind

Chapter 11

The days passed uneventfully. Harry spent most of his time locked away in the Black library, which he accidentally discovered during his explorations of the house.

The Black house on Grimmauld place was not large, but it was big. It also held a lot of secrets; underground passages and rooms, hidden spaces behind walls that could be moved with a password. Certainly, it was not at the level of Hogwarts, but the number of secret areas within the house were numerous enough that Harry was sure he hadn't discovered all of them.

Sirius tried to talk with him, to bond, Harry assumed, but he'd rebuffed the man at every turn. There was no point in bonding with others. This was a lesson that he had already learned. He would help clear Sirius's name, but he was only doing it because his parents' traitorous former friend was living in the world, free. Just the thought of Pettigrew being allowed another second of freedom made his blood boil.

Of course, he couldn't ignore Sirius all the time. The old dog was a loose cannon, reckless and incapable of thinking ahead. If Harry didn't keep him in check, then Sirius Black would likely go off on his own and get killed--or have his soul sucked out by dementors.

It was Sunday morning. There were only three weeks left of the summer holiday. Harry had already done most of his shopping. He had all of the books he needed, plus several extras, and he'd bought all of the supplies that would be required for Hogwarts this year--or so he believed.

He'd never received the letter detailing what he needed to buy. Harry assumed this was because of the Fidelius Charm that had been placed around the house. Only himself and Sirius knew about the house now, as the secret of its whereabouts had been wiped from the minds of everybody else. Without knowing the house's location, sending an owl to tell him what supplies he needed to buy was impossible.

Harry sat at the dining room table that morning, reading through a book he'd found in Knockturn Alley. It detailed the creation of a homunculus through the use of potions. He didn't intend on creating a potion homunculus, though, since it would only be an empty vessel. That's not what he needed.

A plate appeared in front of Harry; scrambled eggs, turkey sausage and orange juice. It looked much better than the house elf's first few attempts. Harry was glad that he'd decided to teach Kreecher how to cook.

"Here you are, Master," Kreacher bowed to him.

"Thank you."

"Of course, Master. Can Kreacher get you anything else?"

"Not at the moment, no. Go and get some rest. You've been working hard."

"Master is too kind."

With a bow, Kreecher disappeared with a pop.

Harry continued to read, munching on his food. Even though he had no intention of creating a homunculus with potions, the knowledge of homunculi was still invaluable. It might even help him with his own plans.

"NNOOOOOOO!"

Just then, a loud scream echoed throughout the house. Harry looked up from his book. The yell, which contained the anguish that only came when someone lost what they cherished most, had come from Sirius Black's room.

Sirius, Harry had learned, suffered from nightmares. Every night, the older man would wake up screaming. Sometimes he would scream names, but most of the time, his screaming was unintelligible. Harry wondered if this was the result of being near dementors for so long, or if the loss of his best friend was what really shook Sirius up.

The screams died down, and Harry went back to his reading. Several minutes later, however, more screaming came to him, this time from the hallway.

"Why can't you be more quiet, dirty mongrel?!"