Ch23. Family and its magic

After determining there is no wizard nearby, Harry walked closer to Grimmauld Place 12. The closer he got, the more the family magic of Blacks stirred happily.

He could feel it clearly. The wards. There was no Fidelius courtesy of Twinkles since the place was not yet chicken-infested but it still had a quite capable concealing wards. The most powerful of them was a slightly darker variety of Muggle-repelling ward inwoven with Notice-me-not. Harry didn't know why he knew that. It was almost instinctive for him. One look and he pretty much understood the function of the wards. He knew it was so easy because his Black family magic was giving him a clear view… or feeling of them. He was never able to understand other wards. They were always as if veiled in something. Oh, he kinda always knew they were there and even their function. Given time and knowledge, he was sure he could exploit them. Ever since…

Harry stopped in his tracks when he remembered he started feeling wards and their functions on a more instinctive level the second he left the Gringotts he claimed his Lordships. He never paid it much attention since he thought it was a part of his magical perception.

'I may just have found out the function of the family magic of Potters.' He mused.

These protective wards though... For someone like Harry who could feel and understand them, they were scary beyond measure.

Massive, heavy, and dark. In short, powerful.

Despite its appearance and even without the Fidelius, the ancestral home of House Black was a magical fortress. Nothing short of an army would be able to breach the wards. And not without heavy casualties. These wards were the accumulation of centuries of adding more and more protections.

Harry had to applaud Dumbledore for choosing this house as his headquarters. He certainly did so for a reason. And his Fidelius was not it! Harry doubted the old goat could access more than a porch of this house. No matter how powerful people see him as.

He offhandedly noted that most of the protections he felt in the wards were in fact disabled but even then the activated remainder was enough to stop even Twinkles and his flaming bird. Harry couldn't wait to reactivate the wards in their full capacity! His worries about being discovered lessened by a great margin. Almost to non-existence!

For the first time in his new life since he was so rudely stuffed into Potter, Harry perceived the fabled 'dark' side of magic. And surely enough, he was certainly impressed.

Oh, it had nothing to do with the apparent 'darkness' of the magic. No, it had to do with the way the dark magic acted. Harry noted, it almost looked to be sentient! Lingering there, at the back of your mind, trying to wriggle its way towards the core of your consciousness to corrupt it, sign sweet promises of power while making you less and less sane by the second.

Thanks to his unique perception of magic, he could feel it all. The dark magic though completely disregarded him. As he noticed the way it acted around him a mirthful gleam shined in his eyes.

Well, the Black family magic surely was good at least for something. It gave him complete immunity to the corruption of dark magic. After all, thousand years of being known as a family excelling exclusively at dark arts and being still around would prove to require certain immunity to the more unpleasant consequences of the craft.

When Harry got to know this little tidbit, he quickly understood why House Black was so famous and intent on dark arts. Why it was their forte and why even though they preferred using a lot of spells that theoretically should have left them corrupted for generations to come, or at least as mindless drones, they never lost their firm touch with reality performing it.

As for the occasional insanity...

Harry only knew the family magic shielded them against corruption of dark magic. Not inbreeding nor idiotic upbringing.

Harry felt the wards would let him in but he was also sure anyone uninvited would be in the world of hurt, if lucky. If not, well, let's just say, they would be lucky to have a swift end. He bravely stepped towards the door, knowing full well the wards won't harm him. He silently opened the door and stepped in.

The second he did so, he felt something in him click with the family magic. Fall into place. Harry with a skip in his step noted, he just gained complete control of the wards and the house. With a smirk he went deeper into the house, wondering where is Kreacher.

Harry was quite surprised at the interior. It was definitely dim and dark but no dust nor filth could be found anywhere. Everything was pristine as if polished with a toothbrush. Hell, the floor was almost sparkling!

As Harry awkwardly mused what's going on he suddenly heard 'pop' at the end of the hall.

"Who is intruding on the lands of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House Black! Kreacher will stop you!"

A raspy and dangerous voice sounded from a small grey-ish green creature. Harry was momentarily stunned when he saw Kreacher, the insane house-elf, threateningly glared at him. He certainly did look awful, almost making Harry blanch. Black teeth, wearing a sack with holes as clothes. The grey-skinned elf was old, skinny, and quite possibly not in his right mind. A complete nightmare!

"Your master." Harry recomposed himself and nonchalantly stated, sending Kreacher into a fit.

"Kreacher's master is mistress Walburga!" The elf raged and raised his hands in preparation to attack Harry, making him frown and cross his hands on his chest. Harry waited while tapping his foot on the floor, yet no spell nor attack came.

The house-elf looked at Harry in unveiled surprise as he looked at his hands in bewilderment. Wondering why his magic didn't work. Slowly, his eyes bulged out and he took a step back, thinking the enemy in front of him was indeed formidable since the wards nor he could stop him. As he was about to panic, he heard Harry's voice.

"You were sworn to House Black. Not the Goyle bitch who ruined it." Harry drawled irritably at the elf with a scowl, stopping him in his tracks. He then commanded. "Just feel the family magic, elf!"

The elf reluctantly did as told and his jaw almost unhinged.

"Kreacher is sorry, master!" The small grey elf bowed when he felt the interaction between Harry and the wards. He was an old house-elf and knew what it meant. Only Lord Black could have such control over the wards. The boy in front of him had even better control of them the second he stepped on the property than old master Arcturus after decades of living here!

Harry rolled his eyes. The elf, like those working at Hogwarts, was bound to the house. The house instead belonged to House Black and its Lord. Hence the elf belonged to Harry. And the family magic certainly showed it.

"Is someone living here? It is too clean." Harry asked the elf who gulped in fright, yet his body was on the verge of bouncing up and down in joy at the thought of serving another Lord Black.

"Only mistress Walburga, master." The elf said subduedly.

As Harry heard Kreacher, he sighed in exasperation. The old bitch could have at least enough sense to die of old age already.

"Ok, take me to her." His irritation increased as he remembered the contracts for the Black sisters the old bitch signed.

"As you wish, Kreacher will do." The house-elf said, completely unaware of the angry scowl and grim flash in Harry's eyes.

Harry followed Kreacher through the house until they came in front of a bedroom. He was not about to be polite in his own house. Especially since the person inside was Walburga, someone he didn't like at all. He might not have met her in person yet but what he knew of her and what he saw of her actions spoke volumes of her personality. Harry didn't yet know what to do with her, but he was sure of one thing. He did not like her to be a part of his family. She would be glad if he sends her back to the Goyles with a small compensation. If only because his other options would make her permanently deleted, in one way or the other.

He didn't wait for Kreacher to knock, instead, he barged in.

Inside he saw a luxuriously furnished dark room with various magical trinkets, an ornately-carved mirror, and a small bookshelf filled to the brim with books. At the far end of the room was a big luxury bed.

On the bed lied a plumb old woman, looking deathly pale and incredibly tired. Heavy sweat covered her face as her labored breathing filled the room.

Despite her condition, when she saw Harry barge inside her room, she shrieked in her unpleasant high pitched voice.

"Who are you!" She eyed Harry for a second before she yet again started screaming her head off. "Intruder! Kreacher! Kreacher!"

'Even on her deathbed, the banshee is exactly the same as in the cannon. Still as annoying as all hell.' Harry mused distractedly as he let her angry shouts wash over himself, completely disregarding them. 'I wonder if she is partly a magical creature.'

He cleared his throat, shutting her up.

"I am the new Lord Black."