You are viewing a story from harrypotterfanfiction.com
View Online | Printer Friendly Version of Entire Story
Chapter 1: Prolouge : My memories are for the taking
I cannot plead for all of you to be gentle when reviewing this time for this is now my second fan fiction story. Now, I know you clicked on this story to hear of a Sirius/OC romance but I must get this prologue out of the way. After this chapter it will be strictly that time period, although there might be an occasional intrusion from the present, I’m not quite sure yet. Oh, and I do not own Harry Potter, I am but a humble writer who can think of nothing better to do with my time except write. I really hope you like this chapter! Enjoy!
* * *
Silence had enveloped number twelve Grimauld place on the evening of the 4th of August. Harry idly scooted around the various foods on his plate. He really was not in the mood to eat them. Not to mention that since Tonks had cooked this it was likely to come alive at any moment. He wished she had stayed, even though it would have meant he would have had to eat her food in order to not offend her. She would have kept him entertained though, her clumsiness and happy self the ever life of the room. But no, she had only stopped by to chat with Lupin and a few other members of the order and do her share and make a nice meal for them. Well, maybe nice wasn’t the right word…
He had expected it to be exciting to come back to Grimauld place, head quarters of the famous ‘Order of the Phoenix’. In all reality though, it was quite dull. They had point blank refused to let him join even though he was of age. They said he at least needed to finish school. He had insisted that he was not even going back though but that had been the wrong thing to say. It seemed every one at once began to shout at him for that decision and that he still needed protection, seventeen or no. Needless to say he had quickly withdrawn his comment. But then he was in the same position as before, at least in fifth year he had had his friends there with them.
In a way, he was almost glad they were not there. Yes, it was boring but it also gave him time to sort out various issues in his life at the moment. Although, now that he though about it, Ron and Hermione’s voice would come in handy during the process of that. He sighed, now wishing they were there. The whole of the Weasley clan was busy at the burrow, preparing for the upcoming wedding of Fleur Delacour and Bill Weasley. He had been invited there but he had declined on the pretenses that the youngest of the Weasley’s was to be there. He wasn’t really sure if he could handle seeing her again just yet. His mind then drifted on to the girl that had caused so much mayhem in his fourth year, what with all the tragic love triangle stories printed in the witch weekly and such. Hermione, easily the brains behind the operation. She, like most in the wizarding world, had taken Dumbledore’s death as a sign that the final battle was near. She wanted to spend this time with her parents and the rest of her family. Harry really couldn’t blame her, much as wanted to, if he had had a decent family he would be with them too.
The Dursley’s were far from decent though. His last month there had been Hell. It wasn’t quite for the reasons you’d think though. It seemed during his stay at Hogwarts Petunia and Vernon had gotten into some disagreements. By July they were on their wits end. It happened on July 6th, Petunia just left, no bags or anything. Harry had gone with her, feeling pity for the woman even if she had treated him like vermin for the first sixteen years of his life. Dudley didn’t even give a second thought to who he was staying with, his dad, the one who was able to make more money and afford to get him more things. The day she had tried to call and just see how he was he had hung up on her, simply seeing no use for her anymore. As Harry tried to comfort a sobbing Petunia he nearly held as much hate for Dudley as he did for that little rat Peter, which was indeed saying something.
It was only when they were in a hotel just outside of London that Petunia told Harry something that truly shocked him. She was a witch. She was so ashamed when she got her letter though, for she had always made fun of Lily for being a freak. She had simply torn up her letter and her family had been non the wiser. That’s why she was here know, at number twelve Grimauld place, taking some simple spell classes from any member of the order willing to, which was three: Tonks, Lupin, and Mcgonagall. Not many others had sympathy for her, not after what she had done to Harry. He had tried to convince them though that he did not hold her accountable for what she had done, it had been her husband’s doing, threatening her into hating Harry with a passion.
So they had been there for the past week. He felt somewhat guilty that he had left Privet drive after what Dumbledore said. Although, he had to admit, when his birthday had rolled around he had been immensely happy that he was at Grimauld place instead of Privet drive. What made it an exceptionally meaningful occasion was that Petunia was actually there. Then there was the clan of Weasleys and Hermione along with what seemed the entire Order. They had made his party exceptionally meaningful, as it was his coming of age. He celebrated by doing any non-lethal spell just because he could with a clear conscience. After the party though, there had been silence again, for everyone had left to go back to their homes and Harry was left just as bored as ever.
He put his unfinished plate by the sink and began to walk to the living room. When he was by the entryway and about ready to cross it though he heard voices. He instantly stopped. Yes, he was a bit ashamed of eaves dropping, especially at the age of seventeen. ‘They had it coming,’ Harry thought sardonically. ‘If they won’t tell me what’s going on I’ll use my own methods to figure it out.’
He heard Remus’s voice, lowered to a whisper. “Are you sure? I’m not quite sure how he’ll take it.”
A feminine voice answered, “It’s not like he will be angry, is it? If anything it would delight him. He has not met too many people that know them like I did. Only you, Sirius, and Peter,” she said, the last name uttered with detest.
“I don’t think people would want him knowing though. Voldermort attempts to enter his mind much to often to disclose information such as this to him. You could be putting yourself in danger.” Lupin warned quietly.
Harry then realized they were talking about him, although he had suspected earlier. Big headed as it sounded though, when were they not talking about him? He continued to listen, hoping to hear what was supposed to make him feel happy or sad or in between or just some sort of feeling.
“But Remus, I feel terrible keeping him in the dark about it all. You know I’ve wanted to tell him for the past three years about everything! You know now I’ve more reason that ever!” She pleaded with him.
Harry listened as Remus sighed and murmured, “I know you’ll make the right decision. I’ve missed you, you know. A lot actually, it seems like a long time since I’ve seen any of my old friends.”
“I’ve missed you too. I miss the days when we were all carefree teenagers, running around Hogwarts. It’s a shame Harry never truly got to experience that.” She had replied, her voice slightly muffled by something.
“You go wait in the living room, I’ll go get Harry. I believe he is still in the kitchen.” Lupin instructed. Harry instantly backed away when he heard this and made it look like he was just then strolling their way.
“Hello Lupin,” Harry greeted, trying hard to look innocent.
It appeared that he had fooled Lupin. “Hello,” he replied with a nod of his head. “Would you mind coming with me?” He asked. Harry shook his head in compliance and followed Lupin into the living room where an extremely beautiful woman was sitting on the couch, casually leaning back with her legs crossed. She instantly sat up when she saw the pair of them, her green eyes wide and bright with excitement.
“Harry, I would like you to meet Kristen St.Claire.” He introduced her. The woman stood up to shake his hand, revealing just how long her flowing blonde hair truly was.
“It’s nice to meet you Mrs. St.Claire,” Harry said politely, returning her handshake.
“Ms. St.Claire,” she corrected with a smile. “Oh Harry, I know you tire of hearing this but I must tell you. You look just like James. Your eyes though, those are dear Lily’s.” She said, tears brimming her eyes. “I’m sorry Harry,” She apologized quickly. “I have seen you from afar but not until just then did I truly realize how you are like them so much!” She wiped away the few tears that had managed to escape her eyes.
“I suppose I will leave you two to get to it then,” Lupin said, beginning to leave the room.
“Don’t you dare Remus John Lupin! You know I need you to tell parts of the story, particularly the parts he was too embarrassed to ever tell me.” She snapped, causing his to smile and sit in a chair by the couch.
“Same temper as ever,” Lupin mumbled with a small laugh.
“What parts of what story?” Harry asked inquisitively. “And who is he.”
“The story of my childhood, I guess that’s what you would call it,” she said, looking towards Lupin, as if hoping he would confirm this. He just shrugged his shoulders, which was really of no help to her. “And as to who he is, that would be Sirius Black.” She said wistfully. “You know, I remember how he always used to complain about this house, how it was always so dark and dreary. I have to admit I agree. Mrs. Weasley did clean it up quite well but as long as his memory lives here it will never be able to be a happy place.” She sighed and turned to Harry, who had now seated himself on the other end of the couch.
“I know what you mean,” he agreed dismally.
“Come now! Let’s not dampen the spirits! Yes, I know you two miss him, more that all the others, but he would want up to remember the happy times. More specifically the times he did not embarrass himself I suppose but he’s just going to have to deal with that,” Lupin said jovially, encouraging them to not let themselves be drawn into misery.
“You’re right Remus,” Kristen agreed, putting on a cheerful face once again.
“So, I take it you knew my parents well,” Harry said, having gathered that from the conversations between her and Lupin.
“Oh yes Harry, we were all very good friends, I doubt you could find a closer bunch. Except perhaps the little wonder trio you have going,” She said, flashing him a bright grin. Harry laughed at this, having heard that term quite often over the past few months. “Your father and I were very close, your mother was also my best friend although she detested the very fact that I even associated myself with that ‘big-headed Potter boy’ as she so affectionately named him. In the end though she accepted that the maurders were my friends, except Sirius that is.”
“Except Sirius? Why?” Harry inquired of her.
“You could say we had… difficulty expressing or selves without resorting to violence,” she said slowly as she thought on it.
“Difficulty?” Lupin scoffed. “If you two were in the same room for too long you would both end up in the hospital wing! One time I actually got caught in the middle of it and was out for a week.”
Kristen sighed, obviously having gone over this with him many times before, “Look Lupin, it was an accident. We both apologized! Besides, it’s been more that two decades! You should really get over it and stop bringing it up anytime you want to make me feel guilty.”
“Wow, you two must have hated each other!” Harry marveled, laughing at how she had scolded Lupin.
“We had our reasons,” She said quickly, defending herself.
“Like what?” Harry laughed.
Kristen smiled and said, “I’ll have to start from the very beginning just so that you can truly appreciate just how much I hated him. I had known James since as long as I could remember…” Kristen started, happy to share her memories.
* * *
Please Review. Especially if you are a fellow author because then you know how good it feel to get reviews. I really appreciate feedback; it helps me to know that you actually care about what’s going to happen. Oh, and feel free to write something that you think I should do better because believe it or not I actually pay attention to what you write.