Genre: Fan Fiction, Spiritual/Drama
Current Chapter: 2 - A New Quest
Chapter Word Count: 2,676
Total Story Word Count: 4,901
Summary: Two years after the Final Battle, Harry Potter receives an unexpected and rather unwanted letter amidst his already tumultuous life. He embarks upon a new quest, this time a more deeply interpersonal one as he blazes a trail down what's left of Severus Snape's memory lane. Is he truly ready for his parents', or more accurately, Severus Snape's history?
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II
A New Quest
GRIMMAULD Place was dead quiet when Harry stepped out of the fireplace and into the large drawing room. The late afternoon sun was filtering through the shuttered windows and Harry could see dust motes floating like dainty, dreamy snowflakes in and out of the rays of light.
“Kreacher?” he asked aloud, but not too loudly for the silence was grating on him like a foreboding shadow (that and he still had not yet removed the portrait of Sirius’ mother). Looking around his inherited home, he realized he hadn’t been here in days (or maybe weeks?), usually spending what free time he did have these days with Ginny (when she also had time away from practices and games) at The Burrow, which was always bustling with warmth, action and good food, unlike here.
Suddenly there was a little pop! and his wizened house-elf stood hunched before him. He was wrinklier, looking more like a pile of old than ever, his garb was his usual tattered and dirtied potato-sack-loin-cloth getup but with the addition of Regulus Black’s locket hanging from his neck, swinging softly like a pendulum from the house-elf’s recent Apparition.
“Master has returned,” the stooped and gnarled creature before him said, giving him a wily look.
“Yes, but unfortunately only for a short while again. I’ll be needing provisions for a week - I’m going away...on...business...a business holiday. Can you manage that? Please?” Harry waited for Kreacher to take action. When the house elf continued to stare at him, unmoving, Harry began to feel both a wee bit agitated and anxious. “Kreacher, did you hear me?”
