Harry Potter and The Boy Who Had No Choice

Something to Tell You

Chapter Thirty-Three

On Sunday evening, Harry arrived at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Andromeda greeted him, a blue-haired baby bundled in her arms.

"Harry!" She walked towards him and pulled him into a hug, which was slightly awkward given the fact that she was still holding Teddy. "It's so good to see you." She pulled away, her brown eyes warm and comforting.

"It's good to see you too," Harry said, smiling back. He leaned down and cooed at Teddy. "How's the best little boy in the whole world?" Andromeda laughed.

"He's doing just fine. Better than fine actually; his hair is blue, so he must be happy to see you," Andromeda answered for the child. She glanced behind Harry towards the door. "I thought Narcissa and Draco were coming?"

"They are. They're arriving tomorrow morning." Harry didn't bring up Bellatrix's will reading. He had a feeling Andromeda somehow already knew, and he didn't want to bring up her older sister's death. "Can I hold him?" He changed the subject, looking down at Teddy.

"Here," Andromeda said, handing the bundle to Harry. Harry carefully balanced Teddy in his arms, rocking the child gently. His eyes flitted around the house, cataloging the changes since the last time he'd been there.

When the Order of the Phoenix had first started using Grimmauld Place as their headquarters, they had done their best to fix the place up, but still left something to be desired. The furniture was old and worn, the floorboards creaked, and of course there was the shrieking painting of Walburga Black. Harry had certainly lived in worse places (after all, he had slept in a closet for the first almost eleven years of his life), but Sirius' old house was far from homey.

Now, Harry hardly recognized the place. The ancient wallpaper had been torn down and replaced with a fresh coat of pale blue paint, and this, along with the fact that all the clutter had been cleared away, helped Harry to realize how spacious Grimmauld Place really was. He glanced down the hallway and saw that the portrait of Walburga Black had been removed; how Andromeda managed that, he'd never know. He walked down the hallway into the dining room, which was completely transformed.

The floorboards had been replaced with plush grey carpeting, and the dark wood table was replaced by a marble one. The room no longer looked so formal or severe.

"Wow," he breathed. Andromeda beamed.

"It took a while, but I haven't had much else to do, besides looking after Teddy," she nodded at the baby, who was now fast asleep in Harry's arms.

"It's fantastic."

Andromeda had Harry sit down at the table while she fixed dinner for the two of them. He offered to help several times, but every time, she insisted that he relax and tell her about his school year so far.

He spoke of his new teachers, the Quidditch season, and Sirius' diary. Andromeda perked up at the mention of her cousin, and started asking questions as soon as she sat, handing Harry his plate.

"Did he write about the Halloween prank on the Slytherins?" she asked enthusiastically. It took Harry a moment to answer, seeing as his mouth was full of delicious food.

"No, he didn't," Harry said, shaking his head. "What was it?"

Andromeda went on to describe what sounded like the most elaborate scheme that had ever been executed. Apparently, during Sirius' sixth year, he and the marauders had somehow managed to get enough of Dumbledore's hair to brew a batch of Polyjuice Potion that was big enough to transform the entirety of Slytherin. Why Sirius had neglected to mention this in his diary, Harry wasn't sure, but he had a feeling he was scared to admit he was the perpetrator of such a large-scale prank in case anyone ever found the book.