Keep Breathing ♢ James Potter

2 | The Black Family Tree

Harry's 5th year at Hogwarts was happening far too quickly. During the summer, Harry and his cousin Dudley got attacked by dementors, causing the ministry to expel him from Hogwarts for the time being. After arriving at Grimmauld Place and seeing Sirius once again, Harry went to trial where the court decided he was not guilty.

Once summer finished, Harry and his friends got on the train and returned to their second home: Hogwarts. However, before he knew it, Harry found himself back in Grimmauld Place after Mr. Weasley was attacked by Nagini.

After eating dinner with the Weasleys, Harry found himself walking into a different room in Grimmauld Place that he hadn't seen before. As he walked in, Harry was met with unkind words from Kreacher, the house-elf.

"Nasty brat, standing there as bold as brass," exclaimed Kreacher, "Harry Potter, the boy who stopped the Dark Lord. Friend of mudbloods and blood-traitors alike. If my poor mistress only knew..."

Kreacher's rant was soon caught off once Sirius walked down the stairs and overheard. "Kreacher! That's enough of your bile. Away with you!"

"Of course, master. Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of Black." With that, Kreacher proceeded to walk out of the room.

"Sorry about that," apologized Sirius, "He never was very pleasant, even when I was a boy. Not to me, anyway." Sirius remembered how Kreacher was quite fond of his brother, Regulus Black. But he wasn't sure if that was something he wanted to remember.

"What, you grew up here?" questioned Harry. He was surprised, as no one thought to inform him how exactly this became headquarters for the Order.

"This is my parents' house," explained Sirius, "I offered it to Dumbledore as headquarters for the Order. About the only useful thing I've been able to do." He was not pleased with having been on house arrest. Memories of going on missions with James for the order flashed before his eyes as he looked back at Harry.

After noticing Harry's perplexed glances at the walls of the room, he decided to explain what exactly what Harry was looking at. "This is the Black family tree."

Sirius glared at the faces on the wall, especially one with black, curly hair that seemed to be untamed. "My deranged cousin," snarled Sirius, "I hated the lot of them. My parents with their pure-blood mania."

Sirius pointed at a spot on the wall that had been burned off. Harry quickly realized that where there were burn marks, there was once a person's portrait. As Sirius's pointed at a specific burned portrait, Harry could only see the name of the person. Sirius's name. "My mother did that after I ran away. A charming woman," Sirius sarcastically explained, "I was 16."

"Where did you go?" Harry asked.

Sirius gazed at Harry's face. The brown hair, the glasses, it was as if his old friend stood before him. But he knew better. Sirius knew his best friend didn't have green eyes.

"Your dad's," Sirius confessed. "I was always welcome at the Potters'. I see him so much in you, Harry. You are so very much alike."

"I'm not so sure," admitted Harry. After Mr. Weasley's incident, Harry started to worry that he would start turning out to be the very thing he hated most.

"Sirius, when I was... When I saw Mr. Weasley get attacked, I wasn't just watching. I was the snake. And afterward, in Dumbledore's office, there was a moment when I wanted to..." Harry stopped. He did not want to admit the emotions that ran through his body when Mr. Weasley was attacked.

"This connection between me and Voldemort. What if the reason for it is that I am becoming more like him? I just feel so angry all the time. And what if, after everything that I've been through," Harry's voice became more strained, "something's gone wrong inside me. What if I'm becoming bad?"