His love for Potions I ✔

Chapter 46: Harry's room

Sirius and Harry de-infested Harry's chosen room on the fourth day, and Sirius repaired the broken windowpane and turned the faded velvet curtains a firm red trimmed with gold, to make Harry feel at home.

Left alone in his room later, Harry very cautiously put a couple of his books on the newly empty shelves, and propped up a couple pictures of his parents and Ron and Hermione.

Then, after a few minutes staring at this feeling odd, Harry went and got a couple forks and knives from the kitchen, and transfigured them firmly into picture frames with Draco's stolen wand. It took a few tries, but he ended up with reasonable looking silver frames and a wall that actually showed that Harry had been here, and existed.

For the next half a day Harry waited cautiously for an owl arriving telling him he was doomed, but nothing came for whatever reason. Definitely better than staying with the Dursleys.

Remus maintained his careful neutrality on the subject of reclaiming the house from dirt, Kreacher, and evil portraits, and mostly spent his time sitting at the dining room table sipping tea and reading the paper. Sirius was more active, but every now and then he'd just break something and Harry would have to pause and stare at him.

"Doesn't it bother you?" Sirius asked abruptly, after he'd torn a screaming portrait off the wall.

"Doesn't what bother me?"

"The - this house. It's saturated in darkness. Don't you feel it?"

Harry considered this.

"A bit. I suppose I just thought that was how it felt. It's just sort of a whisper, isn't it? It doesn't take much concentration to ignore. Like... well. Like a Dementor or something."

Sirius scowled at the portrait on the floor.

"...I suppose it'd be worse for you," Harry allowed. "Sorry."

"No," Sirius said. "This helps. Building new memories, ones that haven't been - drained. It helps. It's just sometimes I need to break things."

"Alright," Harry said agreeably. "Let's find the worst stuff in here and destroy it into tiny pieces."

So that's what they did.

#

Harry and Sirius opened the door to the library and peered inside. It was still filthy, since Kitten hadn't broken down any doors as of yet, and dark, and there were cabinets of things.

"Let's not," Harry said abruptly. "I never liked books that much anyway."

"They're mostly full of curses," Sirius agreed.

"We should go bother Remus."

They never did get around to dealing with the library that visit.

#

"Harry," Remus said, "What are you and Sirius planning today?"

"We're tackling the Potions lab. We think if we deal with the things making the clicking sound and the ingredients that are fermented and prone to explode, I can do the rest myself and reclaim it."

"That's...." Remus trailed off. "Be careful of him, please."

"Sorry?"

"He loses track of what year it is, sometimes. And you look so much like James. I don't want him to forget you're not an adult wizard he's known all his life who can take care of himself. He's supposed to take care of you."

Harry thought this was a charmingly naïve statement about adults in relationship to himself, Harry Potter, but he liked Remus and was too polite to say so.

"He said it was helping to build new memories," Harry offered.

"...good. That's good."

"Don't worry," Harry said firmly. "I'm always careful."

Remus gave him a somewhat condescending and Adult look, but since Remus of the three of them was the one who was consistently adult all the time, Harry forgave him. After all, Remus was here watching their back when he could have reported them to Dumbledore or someone who didn't think fighting dark nuisances for days was fun.

#

Two weeks passed far too quickly. Harry stole a chest to put at the foot of his bed from the room next door, and completely failed to finish dealing with all the weird stuff in the upstairs Potions lab.