The First Great Fan- An Epilogue

Here is a bit more of my HP foolishness. I wonder what ever happened to the rest of the class and here's where I'd have put some of them.

Chapter Fourteen: Tapestry.

Harry opened the bottle he had finished brewing just the day before. The instructions said it needed twenty-four hours to set before it was used. He stared at it and closed his eyes to give one good prayer that he hadn't spoiled the making of it. He was still a little rough on some of the harder potions.
The rag in his hand was coarse, just as the instructions said and he tipped the bottle to dampen it, just enough. The potion made the cloth warm, almost hot in his hand and he reached out with it and began to rub at the wall, just below the name of the accursed dark witch he'd so recently removed from the hall. The black burn mark faded, working its way back in time to when it had been a part of the tapestry and renewing its look. The whole section refreshed and the gold threads sparkled with beauty and life. The name returned, as good as new. "Sirius Black" it said in beautiful script.
Harry smiled.
He had returned his godfather to the family tapestry and the picture of the man smiled back from where it had been burned from the wall. He had no intention of letting this leave the house, now. He was just about to continue restoring other names that had been cursed away by the pure blood crazed matriarch and her ancestors, when a curious thing happened.
The stitching that made up Sirius' name, and the line that it completed, was branching out. There, below it, was another bit of stitching, a line stemming off to the side, adding in another name and dipping down to continue. Mariella Duncan Abbott was now firmly etched into the fabric, adjoining Sirius' name and below them was two others. Hannah Abbott Black and Orion Regulus Abbott Black were filled in, along with bold representations of Harry's school mate and a child of less than four years. Harry froze and stared, just long enough to absorb the implications of this. Sirius had children, two of them, and they were probably unaware of their ancestry. He had to tell someone, immediately.
Hermione touched the tapestry with her finger, feeling the raised lettering and tracing it along the length of the words. She was awed at the perfection of it, a beautiful portrait and it had been burned completely just days before. Harry stood back and smiled, next to Ron who stood with his mouth agape and drool beginning to form. Hermione turned and tilted her head. "It just appeared, like it is?" she asked and Harry frowned.
"Yes. What did you think I stitched it in?" he asked.
"No. But, Harry. Think what this could mean. I knew Hannah was a Half-blood, but Sirius? And who is this Orion? I had no idea that Hannah had a brother. Did Sirius go there while he was in hiding?" Hermione continued, asking the questions that Harry had already gone over in his head.
"No way to know, Mione. Sirius is gone, so is Mariella. It's all right here, on the tapestry. But, Hannah and Orion are still alive, and they are family. They deserve to know, if they don't already, and they deserve some, if not all, of their inheritance. I am going to talk to her." Harry said touching the threads that spelled out his godfather's name and the dates of his birth and death.
"Sounds like a good idea. And what about the rest? The other names on the tapestry. Are you going to restore it all?" she said with a mischevous smile.
"I was going to, but after this, I thought I'd like to have someone around. You know, in case there are more surprises." Harry returned her smile and rushed for the bottle and rag in a nearby drawer. Soon they were taking turns cleaning away a burn mark and watching to see what came through.
When all but one of the names had been renewed, and no super tragic surprises had been dropped in their laps, Harry, Ron and Hermione were watching the Weasley family fill in their places in the line that flowed from the burn of Cedrella Black, who married Septimus Weasley and caused her own deletion from the Black family line. It was peaceful and quiet, until Ron knocked over a book.
"Ron, look. There you are, in all your glory. You are now part of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black!" Hermione squeeled and pulled him over.
"So what. So is Harry." he retorted.
"Harry's not on the tapestry, he was just Sirius' godson." Hermione snarked.
"Not just. He's on it, right there." Ron pointed out with a firm aim at the lowest part of the fabric. There, in fine filigreed gold, Harry Pot was in the process of scrawling itself next to the name of Draco Malfoy.
"What does it mean?" Harry asked, and was answered with a light shake of the head by both of his best friends.

Hannah Abbott was still taller than Harry. She had started to outgrow him in fourth year and had stayed ahead for the rest of their schooling. He remembered that she had missed school for several months in sixth year. He wasn't sure when she had returned, but that she had fought with a vengeance in the battle of Hogwarts.
Now, as she sat in his parlor, the Black family parlor, he thought she looked poised and secure, and wondered if he were making a mistake.
"So, you run the Leaky Cauldron?" he asked and she shook her head.
"No, I just work there. I do the legal stuff, paperwork, official permits with the Ministry of Magic, that sort. Harry, why am I here? I mean, your owl said it was important, 'life altering' I believe you wrote." Hannah said with a leery smile.
"Yes, well. How's your brother?" he asked, hedging again.
"My brother? How'd you know about my brother? He's fine, I mean. But, I don't remember you ever meeting him." If Hannah had been worried before, now she was right concerned.
"I haven't. I heard about him, is all. About three, isn't he? Born around fifth year?" Harry continued.
Hannah was now on edge, ready to leave, except she was always worried about threats to her little brother. When her mother had died, Hannah became the surrogate for Orion and she was protective, like no other mother could be. "Harry, tell me how you know about Orion. Tell me!" she snapped.
"I'll do better. I'll show you. Come with me." He said offering his hand and gesturing toward the wall. Hannah rose and turned, seeing the tapestry for the first time, where it hung on a darkened wall. "Illumious." Harry chanted and the wall glowed. Harry pointed at the newest stitching, her and her brother, proudly displayed beneath that of her mother and . . . .father?
"Harry, can it be? I never knew! My mum told me that my father was a traveler. That he . . . was lost in the war and that . . . he found her while I was in school that year. Sirius Black? How?" Hannah mumbled.
"It was before he went to Azkaban, you were probably too little to remember. When he escaped, he was on the run for some time. He must have gone to your mother, before he came . . .here. I bet he loved her, very much." Harry said.
"He went to her, before coming home?" Hannah asked.
Harry put a comforting arm around her shoulders and they talked for hours. They shared tea, had another look at the tapestry and agreed to meet again. Hannah was puffy eyed from crying, or holding in the tears, when she walked down the steps of Grimmauld place, but she looked like she was happy and relieved.
Harry sighed as he returned to the last burned name and the rest of the unanswered questions on the Black family heirloom.


Foreshadowing. . . .Wooooh! If that didn't give it away, boy did I blow it, huh?