Binaries

Binaries
By BEWD Sorcerer

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, then we’d love it even more, but since I don’t, we have to settle for fanfiction.

AN: We’ve finally gotten into already written encounters. For the most part, they won’t change like the dialogue, but Harry needs to sound out some people.

[thoughts]
"Out loud speech, English"
'Parseltongue'
::Link Speech:: Note: not L337 speak

6. Once Again Saved By the Enemy


Someone burst into his room, making him jump, but it was only Dudley, looking very scared.
"Th-there's someone at the door for you." Cold dread seeped into his heart.
"What do they look like?" Dudley's face, which had previously red from rushing up the stairs, drained to white.
"Funny, but in the bad way." ‘Harry’ snarled and Dudley flushed, embarrassed.
"That could be anyone, Dudley! Does he have a long white beard? Or does he look like a snake?" Dudley sputtered.
"He has a white beard and small spectacles." Great, the bumblebee has decided to visit. His trunk was packed, but he sorely wished for one of those reusable paper charms. Why didn't he have one? Oh, that's right. Because you had to go down Knockturn Alley to get to the funny little Asian shop that sells them. Damn Dumbledore and his idiotic ideas of good and evil.
He tromped down the stairs, snarling and scaring Dudley, but when he got to the bottom of the stairs he noticed the tense silence and chilly aura exuding from the sitting room. They must have moved to a more 'comfortable' area.
Sighing, he put on the mask of a good little pawn and entered with Dudley coming in a moment later to sit between his parents. ‘Harry’ took a seat in the only other armchair, looking convincingly surprised and interested.
Dumbledore twinkled at him, making him fight to restrain a twitch, and began explaining that Harry had been invited to the Burrow and if he would come with him to see an old friend. ‘Harry’ didn't have much of a choice, so he went along with it and then Dumbledore produced refreshments, still twinkling. He pretended to take a sip of it, immediately after asking who they'd be going to see.
The older wizard's twinkle just brightened before assuring him that he'd find out later. He hadn't changed a bit. For several long moments Dumbledore sat, drinking his mead, and enjoying himself. Harry wanted to rip his throat out.
"Well, Harry, a difficulty has arisen which I hope you will be able to solve for us. By us, I mean the Order of the Phoenix. But first of all I must tell you that Sirius's will was discovered a week go and that he left you everything he owned." 'Harry' wanted to laugh. The old coot was such a foolish bastard, bringing up Sirius's death like that. He barely acknowledged his uncle's sudden interest. "This is, in the main, fairly straightforward. You add a reasonable amount of gold to your account at Gringotts, and you inherit all of Sirius's personal possessions. The slightly problematic part of the legacy - " Vernon interrupted, but Harry just zoned it all out.
Why did he keep reminding him? It must be because of Grimmauld Place. He wondered if he could get Voldemort to burn it down. Dumbledore was talking to him again.
" - left you number twelve, Grimmauld Place." Vernon showed how greedy he was, but once again Harry ignored them, trying to get a hold of his twin. What was this aching cold in his chest?
"Harry?" He refocused on Dumbledore with haunted eyes.
"You can keep using it as headquarters. I don't care. You can have it, I don't really want it." If he never set foot in that place again, it would still be too much. The memories of Sirius skulking around the house he hated so much would never leave him.
"That is generous. We have, however, vacated the building temporarily." He knew he was required to ask the stupid question, but it didn't make him any happier. So he did and ignored the subsequent boring lecture until he was forced to reply.
Bellatrix live in the Most Noble House of Black? What did he care? Sirius hated the place, but Dumbledore would expect some sort of childish display of anger, so he leapt up and denied it.
"Well, obviously we would prefer that she didn't get it either. The situation is fraught with complications. We do not know whether the enchantments we ourselves have placed upon it, for example, making it Unplottable, will hold now that ownership has passed from Sirius's hands. It might be that Bellatrix will arrive on the doorstep at any moment. Naturally we had to move out until such time as we have clarified the position." Dumbledore may have looked calm, but underneath it, he was pleased.
“But how are you going to find out if I’m allowed to own it?” Really an important question. The bumblebee took his time replying, setting his empty glass on a small table beside his chair.
“Fortunately, there is a simple test.” Vernon finally gave in and demanded that the glasses bouncing off their heads be stopped. Funny what lengths it takes to get a Muggle to willingly allow magic to be done in their presence. Dumbles chastised them for being rude and ‘Harry’ had to resist the need to sneer and laugh. His family was finally getting what was coming to them, but it was Dumbledore doing it. He wished Tom was there.
“You see,” the old coot finally got back around to answering, “if you have indeed inherited the house, you have also inherited – “ He flicked his wand and with a loud crack a house-elf appeared. Not just any house-elf, but a very familiar snout-nosed, giant bat-eared, enormous bloodshot-eyed, filthy house-elf that crouched on the Dursley’s shag carpet in all his ill-temper. Petunia shrieked, Dudley tried to get away, and Vernon shouted, but ‘Harry’ watched closely as Kreacher was forced to crouch.
Kreacher had been another who had assisted in his luring to the Ministry. If Kreacher hadn’t left Grimmauld Place and told Bellatrix of his attachment to Sirius, then Sirius might still be alive. If only Snape hadn’t taunted Sirius so much, if only Tom had started remembering earlier, but it is no use. Sirius is gone, devoured by monstrous drapery. Maybe he could shove Bellatrix through the Veil…
“Kreacher belongs to Miss Bellatrix, oh yes, Kreacher belongs to the Blacks, Kreacher wants his new mistress, Kreacher won’t go to the Potter brat, Kreacher won’t, won’t, won’t – “
“As you can see, Harry,” said the bumblebee over Kreacher’s continued croaks of “won’t, won’t, won’t,” “Kreacher is showing a certain reluctance to pass into your ownership.” Maybe he could shove Kreacher in after Bellatrix…
“I don’t care,” ‘Harry’ replied, looking with disgust at the writhing, stamping house-elf. “I don’t want him.”
“You would prefer him to pass into the ownership of Bellatrix Lestrange? Bearing in mind that he has lived at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix for the past year?” Why didn’t they get rid of him earlier, then, if he was going to be such trouble? Why didn’t Sirius chuck him out or make him work elsewhere before they made Grimmauld Place into headquarters?
“Won’t, won’t, won’t, won’t – “ Surely he knew how much of a pain Kreacher would be later? The old coot wouldn’t want him to get rid of Kreacher, sadly.
“Give him an order. If he has passed into your ownership, he well have to obey. If not, then we shall have to think of some other means of keeping him from his rightful mistress.” Could he kill him? That’d make him much happier. Kreacher would most likely rather die than have to obey him, so all would be well. They could even cut off his head and mount it beside his mother’s.
“Won’t, won’t, won’t, WON’T!”
The dirty little annoyance’s voice had risen to a scream and ‘Harry’ could think of nothing to say, except, “Kreacher, shut up!” For a moment Kreacher appeared to be choking, grabbing at his throat, mouth still working furiously, eyes bulging, but after a few moments of frantic gulping he threw himself forward and beat with his hands and feet upon the floor in a completely silent, yet violent tantrum.
“Well, that simplifies matters,” Dumbledore chirped. “It seems that Sirius knew what he was doing. You are the rightful owner of number twelve, Grimmauld Place and of Kreacher.”
“Do I – do I have to keep him with me?” ‘Harry’ asked, aghast, as Kreacher thrashed around at his feet.
“Not if you don’t want to,” said Dumbledore. “If I might make a suggestion, you could send him to Hogwarts to work in the kitchen there. In that way, the other house-elves could keep an eye on him.” ‘Harry’ didn’t really care what happened to Kreacher, as long as he didn’t have to deal with him much.
“Yeah,” said ‘Harry’ in relief, “yeah, I’ll do that. Er – Kreacher – I want you to go to Hogwarts and work in the kitchens there with the other house-elves.” Kreacher, who was now lying flat on his back with his arms and legs in the air, gave Harry one upside-down look of deepest loathing and, with a loud crack, vanished.
“Good,” Dumbledore said. “There is also the matter of the hippogriff Buckbeak. Hagrid has been looking after him since Sirius died, but Buckbeak is yours now, so if you would prefer to make different arrangements – “ With much difficulty, ‘Harry’ repressed a snarl, only now did they tell him about this.
“No,” Harry stated at once, “he can stay with Hagrid. I think Buckbeak would prefer that.”
“Hagrid will be delighted,” said Dumbledore, smiling; twinkle going full blast. “He was thrilled to see Buckbeak again. Incidentally, we have decided, in the interests of Buckbeak’s safety, to rechristen him ‘Witherwings’ for the time being, though I doubt that the Ministry would ever guess he is the hippogriff they once sentenced to death. Now, Harry, is your trunk packed?” Snapping at the old coot would not be good right now, or any time, but the cold emptiness that he was sensing from his twin was making him agitated.
“Yes, actually, I do.” Dumbledore looked a bit surprised, then ‘suggested’ that he go get his stuff because they would be leaving shortly. So up the stairs he went, grabbing his trunk (containing all of his belongings including his Firebolt) and Hedwig in her cage before returning to the sitting room reluctantly, where the headmaster still sat. Once Harry had reclaimed his seat, Dumbledore turned to speak to the Dursleys once more.
“As you will no doubt be aware, Harry comes of age in a year’s time – “ Petunia interrupts, but ‘Harry’ zones out again, calling to his twin and still only receiving the cold. It was soon doubled because of Dumbledore’s reactions to the Dursleys, but ‘Harry’ remained introverted, trying again and again. Then he heard something about having to return here once more before his seventeenth birthday and focused back on Dumbledore, noticing the uncomfortable and confused Dursleys.
“Well, Harry… time for us to be off,” said Dumbledore, standing up and straightening his long black cloak. “Until we meet again,” he said to the Dursleys, who looked as though that moment could wait forever as far as they were concerned, and after doffing his hat, he swept from the room. Harry followed, not even acknowledging the Dursleys, as the older wizard paused by Harry’s trunk and Hedwig in her cage.
“We do not want to be encumbered by these just now,” he said, pulling out his wand again. “I shall send them to the Burrow to await us there. However, I would like you to bring your Invisibility Cloak… just in case.” ‘Harry’ tugged a corner out of his inside jacket pockets to show that he already had it and Dumbledore beamed at him, causing ‘Harry’ to scowl internally. Dumbledore waved his wand and the trunk, cage, and Hedwig vanished, then he waved his wand again, and the front door opened onto the cool, misty darkness.
“And now, Harry, let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure.” He turned heading out the door, so he missed ‘Harry’ rolling his eyes.

TBC…

AN: Phew! Finally! T - T I hate having to write between the lines. XP