Harry continued to stare around him, trying to locate the source of the voice he had heard. Only then did he notice the slight rippling of the curtain covering the portrait of Mrs Black. Harry found himself descending the stairs until he was level with her portrait. He reached out a hesitant hand to the fabric of the curtain, but as he touched the fabric preparing to pull it back, he suffered a severe flashback to the image of Sirius seated on a large armchair, his fingers forming a pyramid before his face, his eyes dark and harsh boring into Harry.
Harry jumped back from the portrait, almost tumbling down the stairs as he did so. As soon as contact was broken with the material of the curtain, the image seemed to dissolve from Harry’s mind’s eye.
He found he was shaking and his heart was racing. Gathering his splintered nerves, he continued upstairs to begin his work. He thought about telling Ron and Hermione about the vision but immediately dismissed it for one very practical reason. Telling them would involve talking about Sirius and he really wasn’t ready for that yet. He tried to put the disturbing thoughts out of his mind and begin to help the others decontaminate his dead Godfather’s house.
Harry and Ginny had been assigned the task of cleaning the bedroom on the second floor, Ron and Hermione “ the drawing room. Ginny, no longer so shy around Harry was happy to be assigned to work with a new face, having seen more than enough of Ron and Hermione over the past few weeks.
She had grown, Harry noticed. While she hadn’t grown a lot taller “ she was still a good four inches shorter than he, she had become more curvaceous he supposed. Or maybe she had always been like that and Harry just hadn’t noticed, he wasn’t so sure. What he did know was that he couldn’t help looking at her as she climbed on a chair to tackle the top of a dusty wardrobe. She was wearing a black v-necked light wool sweater and jeans. Both showed off her figure. Harry shook his head, not believing that he was unashamedly checking out Ron’s little sister.
Ginny did not appear to have noticed anything unusual about Harry’s behaviour. She was somewhat preoccupied as she cleaned. “Ginny?” Harry ventured.
“Yes Harry?” Ginny replied coming out of her reverie somewhat.
“How does Grimmauld place feel to you?” he asked
Harry could see Ginny didn’t understand what he was asking so he tried again. “Do you think it feels different since, well, since the last time we were here?” he asked.
Ginny nodded slowly. “And not in a good way either Harry. I’m glad you’ve noticed it too. We have done all this cleaning and that, but it doesn’t seem to have helped the atmosphere all that much. It feels …..creepy at times.” She wanted to say Evil but felt that might be a little strong. “At times when I am in some of the rooms, or walking upstairs, I feel like someone is watching me even though I know I’m on my own.” Ginny shivered involuntarily.
Harry nodded. “That’s exactly it. I felt like that earlier when I was coming up the stairs and I thought, well, I thought I heard someone whispering something.”
Ginny was looking at him curiously but he didn’t go into the details, not wanting to make her any more nervous than she already was. “So how do Ron and Hermione feel about it? Surely they don’t like staying here with the strange atmosphere there is in the house?” he asked.
Ginny shrugged. “That’s just it Harry. They are being really strange about it. Hermione doesn’t seem to notice at all that there is anything wrong here. She did when she first arrived, but now whenever I mention it she just tells me to stop imagining things. Ron on the other agrees with me, but never says so in front of Hermione. She tends to get very aggravated with us whenever the subject is broached,” Ginny said.
Harry was bewildered. The feeling of darkness and dread that seemed to invade the house was inescapable. How could Hermione not notice it? He wondered if that had anything to do with the row he had overheard between Ron and Hermione on the night he arrived.
For now it didn’t look like there was a lot he could do about the situation so he put the thoughts to the back of his mind and continued with the job at hand. At 1pm they heard Mrs Weasley calling them to lunch and so dropping their cleaning materials, he and Ginny left the bedroom and walked out to the hallway. The bedroom in which they had been working, was right at the end of the corridor on the second floor. Harry, on exiting the room was reminded forcefully of his dream the night before “ there, right in front of him was the stairway leading to the third floor. He hesitated for a moment, before beginning to climb the stairs.
He felt an undeniable curiosity coursing through him and only investigating the third floor would help to alleviate it. He vaguely heard Ginny calling his name but chose to ignore her. He pressed on at an almost anxious pace until he was standing on the landing of the third floor. His breath caught in his throat. Harry had never been up here. He was sure of that and yet everything looked strangely familiar. Before he looked down the corridor, he already knew that the second-last door on the right would be open.
Slowly, as if in a trance, Harry moved toward the door, his eyes on the pool of light spilling through the open door into the hallway. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, adrenalin pumping through his veins. As he neared the open door he swallowed hard and tried to calm his nerves. It had just been a dream after all.
He pushed the door open and despite himself, jolted with shock as he took in the details of a room which was in every way identical to the one he had found himself in during his dream last night. There was the table, littered with parchment in the centre of the room, the dust-covered books lining shelves on all the walls. And there, drawn up close to the table was a large, high backed armchair.
With an immense feeling of De Je Vue, Harry slowly circled the room to the other side of the table without raising his eyes. Then slowly he raised his gaze to face whoever or whatever sat in the armchair.
The chair was empty.
Harry had so expected to see his godfather there that he experienced an immense wave of disappointment and loss when he found himself staring at an empty chair. He couldn’t understand why. Had he become so unhinged that he had expected to see his dead godfather sitting there before him?
Harry shook his head as if to shake off the last remnants of last nights dream. But even now he had difficulty calling it a ‘dream’. How had he known the exact layout of this room if he had never been here before?
He glanced around again, feeling the same rush of gloom and darkness pervade his body. There was nothing specific that he could see that was affecting his mood so badly, and yet once again Harry felt a malevolent force bearing down upon his spirits.
He looked again at the table in front of him, strewn as it was with parchment and books and …..a Photo Frame. Why hadn’t he noticed this sooner? Harry picked up the frame and turned it towards him. It was a magical one where the people kept moving and Harry was mesmerised to find himself staring at a group of people he could never have imagined being in the same picture.
It was impossible. And yet it wasn’t “ there it was in front of him.
Harry watched as the younger versions of his parents laughed and kissed each other. They couldn’t have been any more than seventeen. Sirius stood close behind them “ his arms around the waist of an attractive raven-haired girl. Sirius was of about the same age or perhaps a little older, and very good looking “ his dark hair falling into his eyes. He was laughing down into the face of the girl. She leaned up and whispered something in his ear and the both shook with laughter. But that wasn’t all. Harry’s eyes strayed to the left of the picture “ and there were Ron and Hermione, sitting under a tree talking with Ginny. He couldn’t understand it. How were they depicted here in the same picture as his parents and Sirius?
All seven people looked around the same age, yet the pictures must have been taken a good twenty years apart. When Harry finally managed to tear his eyes away from the amazing sight “ he noticed the frame that the picture was in. It was an antique wrought iron frame. Heavy to the touch, the edge embossed with the outline of a long serpent, whose body wound around the thorns and petals of Roses.
There was an inscription at the bottom of the frame ‘Circus Ultima’. Harry frowned “ he had no idea what it meant and was still busy staring at the occupants in the frame when he finally noticed that Ginny had been standing quietly in the room, watching him.