Chapter 13: Letter!

Harry Potter woke to sunlight streaming into his bedroom. Opening his eyes, he looked at the wall across from his bed, and took in the proud crest of House Potter, with its lions and shields and griffins.

He had not yet studied the heraldry of the crest, nor had he learned the meanings associated with it - but it had been a symbol to him, nonetheless. He looked to that crest as a connection to his family and his history.

It was proof that his House had been here long before he had been, and - magic willing - would be there long after he was gone.

He glanced back up at the crest as he got dressed, considering it. After the previous night's revelations, he wondered if that crest would ever have the same meaning for him.

How proud can I be of a house that would abandon one of its sons? He wondered.

A conversation he had had with Sirius came to mind, then. Harry had asked about the grand tapestry in Grimmauld Place, showing every member of the Black family.

Two of the faces he found there had surprised him - Narcissa Malfoy, and his own.

"Cissy is my uncle's daughter," Sirius had said, chuckling at the nickname that had so infuriated his cousin in their youth. "And your grandmother Dorea was my grandfather Arcturus' sister. So, even distantly, you're a Black as well."

Harry had thought about that, running his hand over Draco's small portrait, branching off from his mother. "Seems as if Draco would be a better Black than I would, if your mother's portrait is any indication."

The Lord Black shook his head. "It used to be that the Blacks stood for pure blood above all else. I learned that lesson well under my dear mother's wand. Charming woman, she was." His voice grew quiet as he tapped the still portrait next to his. Regulus Arcturus Black, it read.

"What did that get us? Of the five in my generation, I was kicked out, Andromeda was banished for daring to love a muggleborn, Narcissa kneels to the Dark Lord, old Bella is crazier than a bag of cats, and Reggie…" His voice trailed off, as he looked at the picture of his brother.

"Reggie thought he was honoring his family. And Voldemort killed him for it."

Sirius stepped away from the tapestry, clearly fighting to control his emotions. Harry placed his hand on the man's shoulder, trying to offer some small comfort. His godfather patted him on the hand in thanks.

"They said that blood came first, when really it should be family. In their stupidity, they nearly destroyed the House of Black, trying to honor its legacy." He shook his head again.

"No more." Looking down at Harry, he placed his own hand on Harry's shoulder, looking into his eyes. "You, on the other hand, would do anything to protect the ones you think of as family. I mean, look at me - you saved my life, when not a day before you would have wished me dead."

"No, Harry," said Sirius, his voice almost a whisper. "You'd be the finest Black of us all."

Harry thought about those words as he walked toward the staircase. He paused at the landing, and looked down at the entrance hall of Potter Manor.

The Potter Crest was worked into the stone floor, taking up much of the room. It was the first thing most visitors would see.

His thoughts went to his father, laying stunned on the floor of the Death Chamber - and his mother, crumpling under Neville's stunner.

He kept coming back to the same worry. How proud can I be of a house that would abandon one of its sons?

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Neville and Luna were clearing their plates from lunch when Harry made his way to the kitchen. While Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had all decided to head back to the school, Harry and Neville had chosen to get what sleep they could at Potter Manor. Luna had joined them, not wanting to isolate herself in Ravenclaw Tower.

Dobby had set out a few sandwiches and some tea before Harry could even sit down. When Harry had first started to come to the Manor for training, Dobby had been delighted to serve his meals - despite all assurances from Harry that no, that wasn't necessary.

Dobby would just huff and serve his meal anyway, to the great amusement of his friends.

Luna chuckled at the elf's tenacity, even as she continued to write on her parchment. She caught Harry looking over at her work, and smiled. "Nothing in the Prophet today, Harry. So I'm working on a statement for tomorrow, if they get their act together."

"Right," he replied. If his little team had an information officer, she'd be it. "What do you think of Barnabas Cuffe?"

Luna paused her writing and looked up. "I think that his daughter works in the Minister's office."

Neville shook his head. "So she feeds him stories from Fudge?"

"Maybe not," Harry said, thinking back to the 'interview' he and Hermione had given Cuffe the night before. "Might be the other way around. If he doesn't print what they tell him to print, she's out on her ear."

"Either way…" began Neville.

"Yeah. Either way, it may still be a problem." He took a bite of his lunch. "We'll know tomorrow morning."

Luna nodded in agreement. Before she could go back to writing, however, there was a flash of light. Looking up, the three saw the brilliant red plumage of a phoenix.

Harry sighed. I should have expected this, he thought. "Hello, Fawkes." he said. The trill of phoenix song calmed his nerves a little, though not as much as he expected. Given the events of last night, he wasn't surprised. "Is that letter for me?"

Fawkes dipped his head, and then set the letter down. Neville was already scanning it for tracking charms and such. He gave Harry a nod.

They watched as Harry opened the letter and scanned its contents. "I've been summoned, it seems." Luna slid a sheet of parchment down the table, along with a muggle pen.