THE TOUCH OF PROMETHEUS
Written originally in Portuguese, english version: Fabianna Bluhn
Thanks to my beta readers: Silvia Rodrigues and Audrey Fischer.
Prologue:
Harry Potter, the boy who lived almost-defeating You-Know-Who, is not a little boy anymore. He is fifteen years old and is attending his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and you may know it all. But you maybe do not know that past was quite difficult for him and he faced alone the strong Dark Lord, event which had been a mark in his life. He thought this year would be quite hard...
However, as a great astonishment to Harry, it is already spring, and nothing has happened yet. Until now, Lord Voldemort is strangely quiet, maybe preparing some rather disgusting surprise... but we shall not think about this right now. Today is a Hogsmeade's visit day and he will meet his renegade godfather, the murder convict Sirius Black.
Chapter One - Sheeba
Harry opened his eyes; it was Hogsmeade day's morning and early spring. He mentally recapitulated every instruction given by Sirius in his last owl: he should bring a pet collar to the ride, and using this, he should pretend to walk Sirius's canine form. It would be the only opportunity this year to be with his godfather, who was completely engaged in chasing and catching Wormtail alive, thus he would release himself from the accusation that made him a renegade wizard for long fourteen years.
Harry could not help but finding the situation quite funny; just to have some butterbeer with him, his godfather would need to disguise himself as an enormous dog. But Harry Potter was already used to this, after all ever since he started to study at Hogwarts, his life could be considered everything except normal.
He straightened himself up and looked straight at Ron, who said in a heartened tone of voice, "So, are you ready to meet Padfoot?" Harry nodded.
They met Hermione at Gryffindor's common room, and she had already put Crookshank's collar, properly augmented by the use of a spell, in her bag. "I must have never done a better and quicker spell!," she exclaimed, "I hope this collar doesn't squeeze Padfoot."
"Oh, just she knows how to perform expansion spells," said an irritated Ron Weasley, "Astonishingly Intelligent Miss Know-It-All and her psychopathic cat..."
"If it wasn't for my 'psychopathic' cat, maybe you would still be walking around with an Animagus in your pocket."
"Can't you two stop arguing?," Harry demanded. Last year, Ron had started teasing Hermione even more, especially after Viktor Krum, Bulgaria's Professional Quidditch Team's captain and Hermione's confessed admirer, had started sending her regular owls.
In about half an hour, when they arrived at the arranged place, a big dog showed up and dragged them to the back of the trees, where he became Sirius again.
He were way too different from the last time Harry had seen him, and surprisingly, he was wearing muggle clothing (although those were not exactly common clothes). His hair was short and his face was less skinny than it was when Harry last saw it. He was wearing a very shabby black leather jacket, whose back had a dog printed in, a normal black shirt and very shabby-looking pants, which were ripped all over and once had been black.
"I've been walking like this around muggle people because I don't want to attract attention. We've lost Voldemort from sight again and he sent Wormtail to London, where he'll meet some other piece of Death Eater, probably Karkaroff; he's been seen there. If I follow them or at least one of them, I'll have a chance to clear my name. Remus's waiting for me there and we'll try to catch them," Sirius looked worried, as usual, but soon he opened his arms and asked, "So, Harry, Ron and Hermione, do I look like a muggle?"
"You look like a rock star...," said Harry, fighting against a grin, due to his godfather's flamboyant clothing.
"Or like a motorcyclist," Hermione added between laughter.
Harry wondered what aunt Petunia would say if she saw somebody wearing this kind of clothes and laughed at the thought of it.
"I used to wear these when I had my motorcycle," Sirius sighed, "Pity it was confiscated."
Harry had already heard about the giant motorcycle Sirius used to have when he was his parents' best friend. Before he could feel sad, he suggested everybody to walk to Hogsmeade. Sirius turned back into a large dog and Hermione put the enormous pet collar on him. Harry, who was worried about reminding them of what they had arranged to do, held it. "If somebody ask..."
"Okay, we know it," said Ron impatiently, "this dog belongs to Dumbledore and we're taking it to have some butterbeer... just Dumbledore's dog would drink butterbeer, aren't I right?"
They walked back to Hogsmeade heading to the pub "Three Broomsticks", where they chose a table in the corner. Madam Rosmerta did not like the dog being there very much, but as they said it belonged to Dumbledore, she started liking the animal's presence better.
Harry spilled a butterbeer bottle on a plate and Sirius started licking it up happily.
Some minutes later, a witch came into the pub, and instantly, a dead silence dominated the place. Harry thought he had seen her somewhere else he could not remember of. She was a middle-height woman, very pretty. Her hair was black and very long and her eyes were black (and had thick eyelashes that smoothed her stare). She was also as white as snow and had a dark birthmark that looked like a scythe in the middle of her forehead. The woman did not use common witches' robes, but a very tight corselet (Harry could not remind of seeing a woman with such a thin waist before) over a long sleeved cobalt blue (which was bright and dark) shirt; her pants were as black as the corselet, she was also wearing high heeled boots, leather gloves (black too) and a hooded cloak that was clue inside and black outside (the hood was lying in her back).
As she passes through the people, they chased away, as if they did not want to touch her.
The very moment Sirius saw her, he choked and flinched, behind Harry. It seemed he did not want to be seen by the woman, even though he was in his canine form.
She shook the bell on the counter and the sound of it passed away in the air. "Rosmerta!," she said smiling, not affected by the gloomy silence around her, "I'd like to have breakfast, and you know what my order is. I'll be sitting there."
To Ron, Hermione and Harry's great astonishment, she pointed at their table. It seemed she realized the fear that was present in the air, as she said astonished, "I may reassure you all," she showed her gloved hands, "I won't foresee anybody's death in this place."
Quickly, everything - except for Sirius, who was stirring up without moving - seemed to be normal again. The woman knelt by him, not affected by the snarls and fangs Sirius was showing her, and whispered, "No need to be worried, Padfoot. I know you're not guilty.," she smiled and touched his head lightly as if he was a pet, what made everybody at the table - including Sirius - be quite amazed. She stood up and said, "Harry Potter, I held you in my arms when you were just a little baby. May I sit here?," and before anybody could pretest, she sat down on the chair, crossing her legs. An angry Hermione protested, "Who do you think you are to sit at our table?"
"Calm down," the woman said, slightly touching Hermione's fingers, "... Hermione Granger, we have much more in common than it seems we do. I'm just as muggle-born as you are and I used to be Head Girl at Hogwarts."
"But I am not..."
"You aren't yet, dear," the woman smiled, touching Ron's hand before he could pull it back, "Ronald Weasley, the sixth of seven children... you shall have a better future than past. You'll be the greatest of your family, even greater than your father, who will be the Minister of Magic. And you'll have a pretty good marriage," as she said it, she blinked slyly at Hermione's direction.
Ron and Hermione were as red as pepper in embarrassment. The woman stopped smiling and glanced at Harry, who bit his lip, sure that many grim foresights were just waiting for him. That moment, the woman's breakfast arrived: dragon's blood liqueur and a strange-looking dark-leaf sandwich. Inattentively, she touched the pub's owner's hand, and she flinched.
"Rosmerta, you don't need to be afraid of me; I have some good news for you: be ready to expand your pub. You'll be the next winner of the Magic Lottery."
"But I don't even buy the tickets!"
The woman's expression was grave, "In three days, a skinny toothless, baldy peddler will show up here selling some stuff, among a white-and-green lottery ticket. Buy it. Don't give your good luck to those who don't deserve it. If you don't buy the ticket, a dark wizard will."
Madam Rosmerta walked away, seeking refuge behind the counter. Even though it was a good prevision, it frightened her.
The woman looked at Harry again, "Harry Potter, didn't you know that you had not just a godfather but a godmother too?"
Harry's jaw dropped. He knew it now. This woman was at his mother's side in his parents' wedding photograph. He had not recognized her before because she was way too different from then, as Sirius was. Her hair, in the photo, was short, and the scythe-looking birthmark was hidden behind her bangs. "My name is Sheeba Amapoulos, and I am your godmother. Don't be frightened, I didn't come here to predict your death; I prefer to leave those idiotic predictions to Sybil Trelawney," she smiled, "I used to be your mother's best friend, just as Sirius Black used to be your father's. Unfortunately, I've predicted, but I couldn't avoid her death, however, I did also predict - and told her - that you would save the world from Lord Voldemort."
Many heads turned to the woman, looking at her in reprimand. As Sirius, she did not fear the Dark Lord, and did not bother about saying his name.
"Harry, I've got many things to tell you, I need to tell you why you never knew about my existence, but firstly I need to settle accounts with... with him," she pointed at the dog and he snarled at her. She grinned and said, "I'm used to this kind of manifestation, dogs hate people who have the Touch of Prometheus," she started eating her leaf sandwich and sipping the steaming red liqueur. "Did you know, Harry, that these leaves just grow at the Moravian Dark Forests and that they are unicorns' favorite meal? They grow under the ice and are the most nutritive food in the world. Once I passed days without eating anything but these leaves, and believe it or not, I wasn't hungry at all. You ought to taste some..."
Hermione, who looked curious, cut her off with an inquiring glance, "How can you foresee the future? I've been informed it's a very inaccurate field in magic..."
"Indeed. Your genial Divination teacher... I know it, in your case, your genial ex-teacher, Herm. Can I call you Herm? Well, as I was telling you, Sybil may have told you, this is a matter of gift... there are many premonitory gifts, some are more, others are less precious, some reach more, other less. You must comprehend that Time, Herm, is a very subtle thing... when does future start being present? Nobody knows. Some minds - and it has nothing to do with cleverness - can foresee future and past as they see the present. And you shan't think," Sheeba was looking directly at Ron, "that it's a blessing. You saw my popularity as I arrived here..."
"And what kinds of gifts are these? I've never read anything about this..."
"Hermione, there are people who can't see the future, but from whom it's impossible to hide anything you've done in the past. Those are the Sniffers of the Truth. A Sniffer can tell if you're lying just by looking into your eyes; and doing this, he can even know exactly what you are hiding. It's like having a Veritasserum bottle by hand... many wizards - and even muggles - have this gift. Unfortunately, the Dark Wizards found out that the Sniffers can be stopped if their eyes are pierced. I've known many Sniffers who lost their gift by this way...," she took a breath and went on, "There are people able to say what nobody else would about future events, mostly tragedies. But their premonitions usually aren't taken seriously, and many times, they are so completely unbelievable, because those people don't see the normal future, only the extraordinary. Those people have the Touch of Cassandra.," she grinned devilish, "Sybil Trelawney would give her life to have this gift," she said "And, of course, there are the Fatalists. When a Fatalist looks at somebody, he knows exactly when and where this person is going to die. This, you may imagine, isn't very agreeable a thing. Most of the Fatalists I met are now at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies... this gift can make anybody mad," she went on, "Besides this and other premonitory gifts, anybody can receive the 'Blow of the Norns', premonitions that leave on their own the web of fate, and for some reason, they can assault any person. It's not a practicable gift. And, Harry, you must remember having seen a Blow of the Norns before, don't you? Professor Trelawney predicted, two years ago, the encounter of... well, you know what she predicted, don't you?"
"And there is the Touch of Prometheus," she went on, "For those who have the Touch of Prometheus, life's quite hard. Future Predictions and Past Visions pass before our eyes painfully. We just need to touch a person or a thing to know things - sometimes nearly everything; sometimes almost nothing, but never anything - about them. It's impossible to stop the 'Touch' completely, but one can always soothe or avoid it by the use of a Stunning Spell, or, if you're the clairvoyant, you can filter it hiding your hands under properly conjured fabric. This makes the conviviality with the curse easier. These gloves on me," she showed her hands, "make me have only good predictions and, of course, it avoids trouble. I'm here in the Ministry of Magic's service," she showed the Ministry Police badge, "I've been appointed to protect both the village and Hogwarts, and I've also got to help the Aurors by predicting the arrival of any Evil Power. I'll take you all to my house now, we really need to talk. And it won't help if he... if he tries to run away from me."
Harry looked suspiciously at Sirius. The resigned dog nodded. Harry was extremely curious to know why the hell his godparents were so hostile to each other.
The group walked across Hogsmeade and stopped in front of a house, just in front of the supposed-to-be-haunted village's house. It did not have any doors and its windows were completely full of bars, what made it look like a very ill-looking case without style, differently from all the other houses in the place.
The funny thing was that Harry had been to Hogsmeade many other times, and he had never seen this house before. Sirius was quiet and annoyed, but was still following them.
"This is my house!" Sheeba said cheerfully as if she was showing them a mansion, "I can't live anywhere else, so I carry this one everywhere. It's the only place in the world, beyond Hogwarts, where I'm able to feel home..." she did not explain how she carried the house, "And there's only a way to get in it," she showed them a key and a tiny door hanging in a key-ring, "Using this key. Stretch out your hands. Harry, hold the dog, we're going to get in," and she turned the key in the tiny door, and then, in just a moment, they were in her house.
The inside of Sheeba's house was completely different from its outside. The windows were big and did not have bars, and the house itself seemed much bigger (a common thing when it puts concern on Magic Houses). There was an immense room without any furniture, and in a corner, there was a round-pool under a glass roof; there was also a staircase that headed to a raised platform made out of wooden rods and then to the second floor and some doors that probably led to other rooms. The view from the window was different from Hogsmeade's landscape; there was a beach in front, and another beach behind; the sky that could be seen from the glass roof was very clear and had a summer sun that seemed the house was located in the Tropics.
"Wow!," said Ron, "You have a conjured view here! My mum always wanted it to our house."
Sheeba grinned, "At your right, the Egeus Sea, at the left, the Caribbean. The sun is from Morocco. This house was built by the best Magical Designer in the world! I've found out where his younger daughter, who ran away to marry a muggle, was. This house clean itself up by its own and I can choose the furniture according to my aura. Bauhaus!," she said, and modern pieces of furniture - in many shades of yellow and blue - sprung up. The white walls turned into yellow and the floor was now canary-yellow, "This is my favorite ornamentation."
Her house was comfortable and its temperature was very agreeable. Sheeba touched herself with the tip of her wand and her clothes were transfigured into long cobalt-blue robes, and her feet were now covered by blue fluffy rabbit slippers. An excited house-elf showed up, "Miss Sheeba, Miss Sheeba! Do Miss Sheeba want something, Miss Sheeba, lady? Water, Moravian Leaves, Dragon Blood Liqueur, Miss Sheeba, lady? Lemonade to Lady's guests, lady? A bone to half-ton dog, lady? Your little Smiley begs for a task... please, lady!"
"I've got a task for you, Smiley: go to your room and rest for at least two hours. Don't come back before the time."
"Smiley can't stand resting anymore!," the elf muttered as he headed to the kitchen, "This house that clear up by itself can't suit a house-elf!"
Sheeba sighed, "My house-elf isn't a slave, somebody gave me him as a gift and I don't want to free him, for I know he would end up working to a less generous wizard than I am... you see, Hermione, how we have things in common?"
Hermione shot a triumphant glance at Harry and Ron, who thought she would probably invite Sheeba to join SPEW. But Sheeba did not bother about this; she just knelt in the middle of the room, staring at the dog. "Sirius Black, show yourself," Sheeba looked at the dog gravely, and he immediately turned back into Sirius. She held a breath of emotion when Harry's godfather showed up in front of her, his black eyes shooting her a severe look.
They stood silent for a moment, looking at each other from the opposite sides of the room. Sheeba was holding her wand in her right hand, and it seemed that they were going to duel, except that Sirius did not have a wand. Harry did not have the faintest idea of what was going to happen, and neither did Ron nor Hermione.
Both Sirius and Sheeba started speaking, and it was quite difficult to understand what they were talking about, since they were practically talking at the same time, cutting each other off harshly. Sheeba looked at Sirius in fury and tapped her wand against her left hand impatiently, and as she was doing this, a dark smoke was arising from the tip of her wand slowly, forming a cloud on her head that let out some sparks and little lightning on the air in just a few minutes. Harry, Ron and Hermione could distinguish from the violent argument things such as "HOW CAN YOU POSSIBLY SAY THAT I DIDN'T HELP YOU? I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU FOR FOURTEEN YEARS!"
"IF YOU KNEW I WAS INNOCENT, WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU SEEK ME, SHEEBA? DO YOU HAVE THE FAINTEST IDEA OF WHAT DOES TWELVE YEARS IN AZKABAN MEAN?"
"WHAT DID YOU WANT ME TO DO? I TOLD YOU THAT YOU WERE THE ONLY ONE WHO COULD BE THE POTTER'S SECRET KEEPER AND YOU DIDN'T LISTEN TO ME! THIS WAS A TRUE BETRAYAL!"
"I DIDN'T BETRAY ANYBODY! IT WAS WORMTAIL! YOU KNOW IT, REMMEBER? YOU'RE MISS KNOW-IT-ALL, REMEMBER?"
"WHERE THE HELL DID YOU HAVE THIS STUPID IDEA OF TRUSTING PETER?"
"HE WAS MY FRIEND! YOU'VE NEVER TOLD ME HE WASN'T TRUSTFUL!"
"I HADN'T TOUCHED HIM, DO YOU REMMEBER THAT, MISTER SIRIUS ARROGANT BLACK? BUT COULDN'T YOU SUSPECT SOMEBODY WHO WAS ALWAYS SO AFRAID OF ME?"
"IT WASN'T ME WHO HAD THE TOUCH OF PROMETHEUS, WAS IT?"
"WHY THE BLOODY HELL DIDN'T YOU SEEK ME WHEN HE DIDN'T SHOW UP?"
"YOU HAD VANISHED IN THE EXACT MOMENT, DO YOU REMEMBER THAT? FOLLOWING THAT BLOODY DAMN SNAPE! YOU DIDN'T EVEN TELL ME WHERE YOU WERE!"
As the discussion was getting more violent, the cloud on Sheeba's head was growing, until she shouted, "I couldn't do anything!," and she burst into tears, almost at the same time that the cloud on her head started pouring an intense miniature storm over her. Thunders echoed over the room, and a huge puddle of water was spreading over the witch's - who was completely soaked now - feet. Sirius took a deep breath and stopped for a while, a feet away from her in silence, and then he asked Harry, "Harry, can you lend me your wand?,' Harry passed his wand to Sirius, who took and pointed it at the cloud and said, "Flora!". At the same moment, the dark cloud turned into a blue one, from which many big camellias (of the same color) were falling. Sirius was looking quietly at her, and Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other with the same puzzled expressions. Her robes were dried in less than a second.
"I didn't forget your favorite flowers," said Sirius as he came closer to Sheeba, "if I knew back then when I was in Azkaban that you knew I was innocent, I'd have at least a happy thought to deceive those Dementors."
To Ron, Hermione and Harry's surprise, Sheeba put her arms around Sirius's neck and they kissed passionately. Ron hid a mock laughter under his hand; Harry and Hermione shot him a reproof glance. The couple continued kissing in the middle of the room for what seemed like an eternity.
Sheeba whispered, "Sirius, we need to explain everything to them."
He turned around to face Harry, "Harry, you already know your godmother, Sheeba. Well, I guess I had to have told you before that we were... are engaged," Sirius put an arm around Sheeba and whispered, "Oh God, I missed you..."
"Why didn't anybody tell me about her?," Harry was annoyed because nobody had ever told him that he had a godmother.
"Harry," Sheeba began, "if you want to know why you hadn't met me before, you'll need to know all the story about my turning into your mother's best friend, and then, your godmother."
Sheeba invited them all to sit down on the enormous couch that rounded the room, and then, she sat at Sirius's side, holding his hand, and after a deep breath, she started telling them her story.
To be continued...
Written originally in Portuguese, english version: Fabianna Bluhn
Thanks to my beta readers: Silvia Rodrigues and Audrey Fischer.
Prologue:
Harry Potter, the boy who lived almost-defeating You-Know-Who, is not a little boy anymore. He is fifteen years old and is attending his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and you may know it all. But you maybe do not know that past was quite difficult for him and he faced alone the strong Dark Lord, event which had been a mark in his life. He thought this year would be quite hard...
However, as a great astonishment to Harry, it is already spring, and nothing has happened yet. Until now, Lord Voldemort is strangely quiet, maybe preparing some rather disgusting surprise... but we shall not think about this right now. Today is a Hogsmeade's visit day and he will meet his renegade godfather, the murder convict Sirius Black.
Chapter One - Sheeba
Harry opened his eyes; it was Hogsmeade day's morning and early spring. He mentally recapitulated every instruction given by Sirius in his last owl: he should bring a pet collar to the ride, and using this, he should pretend to walk Sirius's canine form. It would be the only opportunity this year to be with his godfather, who was completely engaged in chasing and catching Wormtail alive, thus he would release himself from the accusation that made him a renegade wizard for long fourteen years.
Harry could not help but finding the situation quite funny; just to have some butterbeer with him, his godfather would need to disguise himself as an enormous dog. But Harry Potter was already used to this, after all ever since he started to study at Hogwarts, his life could be considered everything except normal.
He straightened himself up and looked straight at Ron, who said in a heartened tone of voice, "So, are you ready to meet Padfoot?" Harry nodded.
They met Hermione at Gryffindor's common room, and she had already put Crookshank's collar, properly augmented by the use of a spell, in her bag. "I must have never done a better and quicker spell!," she exclaimed, "I hope this collar doesn't squeeze Padfoot."
"Oh, just she knows how to perform expansion spells," said an irritated Ron Weasley, "Astonishingly Intelligent Miss Know-It-All and her psychopathic cat..."
"If it wasn't for my 'psychopathic' cat, maybe you would still be walking around with an Animagus in your pocket."
"Can't you two stop arguing?," Harry demanded. Last year, Ron had started teasing Hermione even more, especially after Viktor Krum, Bulgaria's Professional Quidditch Team's captain and Hermione's confessed admirer, had started sending her regular owls.
In about half an hour, when they arrived at the arranged place, a big dog showed up and dragged them to the back of the trees, where he became Sirius again.
He were way too different from the last time Harry had seen him, and surprisingly, he was wearing muggle clothing (although those were not exactly common clothes). His hair was short and his face was less skinny than it was when Harry last saw it. He was wearing a very shabby black leather jacket, whose back had a dog printed in, a normal black shirt and very shabby-looking pants, which were ripped all over and once had been black.
"I've been walking like this around muggle people because I don't want to attract attention. We've lost Voldemort from sight again and he sent Wormtail to London, where he'll meet some other piece of Death Eater, probably Karkaroff; he's been seen there. If I follow them or at least one of them, I'll have a chance to clear my name. Remus's waiting for me there and we'll try to catch them," Sirius looked worried, as usual, but soon he opened his arms and asked, "So, Harry, Ron and Hermione, do I look like a muggle?"
"You look like a rock star...," said Harry, fighting against a grin, due to his godfather's flamboyant clothing.
"Or like a motorcyclist," Hermione added between laughter.
Harry wondered what aunt Petunia would say if she saw somebody wearing this kind of clothes and laughed at the thought of it.
"I used to wear these when I had my motorcycle," Sirius sighed, "Pity it was confiscated."
Harry had already heard about the giant motorcycle Sirius used to have when he was his parents' best friend. Before he could feel sad, he suggested everybody to walk to Hogsmeade. Sirius turned back into a large dog and Hermione put the enormous pet collar on him. Harry, who was worried about reminding them of what they had arranged to do, held it. "If somebody ask..."
"Okay, we know it," said Ron impatiently, "this dog belongs to Dumbledore and we're taking it to have some butterbeer... just Dumbledore's dog would drink butterbeer, aren't I right?"
They walked back to Hogsmeade heading to the pub "Three Broomsticks", where they chose a table in the corner. Madam Rosmerta did not like the dog being there very much, but as they said it belonged to Dumbledore, she started liking the animal's presence better.
Harry spilled a butterbeer bottle on a plate and Sirius started licking it up happily.
Some minutes later, a witch came into the pub, and instantly, a dead silence dominated the place. Harry thought he had seen her somewhere else he could not remember of. She was a middle-height woman, very pretty. Her hair was black and very long and her eyes were black (and had thick eyelashes that smoothed her stare). She was also as white as snow and had a dark birthmark that looked like a scythe in the middle of her forehead. The woman did not use common witches' robes, but a very tight corselet (Harry could not remind of seeing a woman with such a thin waist before) over a long sleeved cobalt blue (which was bright and dark) shirt; her pants were as black as the corselet, she was also wearing high heeled boots, leather gloves (black too) and a hooded cloak that was clue inside and black outside (the hood was lying in her back).
As she passes through the people, they chased away, as if they did not want to touch her.
The very moment Sirius saw her, he choked and flinched, behind Harry. It seemed he did not want to be seen by the woman, even though he was in his canine form.
She shook the bell on the counter and the sound of it passed away in the air. "Rosmerta!," she said smiling, not affected by the gloomy silence around her, "I'd like to have breakfast, and you know what my order is. I'll be sitting there."
To Ron, Hermione and Harry's great astonishment, she pointed at their table. It seemed she realized the fear that was present in the air, as she said astonished, "I may reassure you all," she showed her gloved hands, "I won't foresee anybody's death in this place."
Quickly, everything - except for Sirius, who was stirring up without moving - seemed to be normal again. The woman knelt by him, not affected by the snarls and fangs Sirius was showing her, and whispered, "No need to be worried, Padfoot. I know you're not guilty.," she smiled and touched his head lightly as if he was a pet, what made everybody at the table - including Sirius - be quite amazed. She stood up and said, "Harry Potter, I held you in my arms when you were just a little baby. May I sit here?," and before anybody could pretest, she sat down on the chair, crossing her legs. An angry Hermione protested, "Who do you think you are to sit at our table?"
"Calm down," the woman said, slightly touching Hermione's fingers, "... Hermione Granger, we have much more in common than it seems we do. I'm just as muggle-born as you are and I used to be Head Girl at Hogwarts."
"But I am not..."
"You aren't yet, dear," the woman smiled, touching Ron's hand before he could pull it back, "Ronald Weasley, the sixth of seven children... you shall have a better future than past. You'll be the greatest of your family, even greater than your father, who will be the Minister of Magic. And you'll have a pretty good marriage," as she said it, she blinked slyly at Hermione's direction.
Ron and Hermione were as red as pepper in embarrassment. The woman stopped smiling and glanced at Harry, who bit his lip, sure that many grim foresights were just waiting for him. That moment, the woman's breakfast arrived: dragon's blood liqueur and a strange-looking dark-leaf sandwich. Inattentively, she touched the pub's owner's hand, and she flinched.
"Rosmerta, you don't need to be afraid of me; I have some good news for you: be ready to expand your pub. You'll be the next winner of the Magic Lottery."
"But I don't even buy the tickets!"
The woman's expression was grave, "In three days, a skinny toothless, baldy peddler will show up here selling some stuff, among a white-and-green lottery ticket. Buy it. Don't give your good luck to those who don't deserve it. If you don't buy the ticket, a dark wizard will."
Madam Rosmerta walked away, seeking refuge behind the counter. Even though it was a good prevision, it frightened her.
The woman looked at Harry again, "Harry Potter, didn't you know that you had not just a godfather but a godmother too?"
Harry's jaw dropped. He knew it now. This woman was at his mother's side in his parents' wedding photograph. He had not recognized her before because she was way too different from then, as Sirius was. Her hair, in the photo, was short, and the scythe-looking birthmark was hidden behind her bangs. "My name is Sheeba Amapoulos, and I am your godmother. Don't be frightened, I didn't come here to predict your death; I prefer to leave those idiotic predictions to Sybil Trelawney," she smiled, "I used to be your mother's best friend, just as Sirius Black used to be your father's. Unfortunately, I've predicted, but I couldn't avoid her death, however, I did also predict - and told her - that you would save the world from Lord Voldemort."
Many heads turned to the woman, looking at her in reprimand. As Sirius, she did not fear the Dark Lord, and did not bother about saying his name.
"Harry, I've got many things to tell you, I need to tell you why you never knew about my existence, but firstly I need to settle accounts with... with him," she pointed at the dog and he snarled at her. She grinned and said, "I'm used to this kind of manifestation, dogs hate people who have the Touch of Prometheus," she started eating her leaf sandwich and sipping the steaming red liqueur. "Did you know, Harry, that these leaves just grow at the Moravian Dark Forests and that they are unicorns' favorite meal? They grow under the ice and are the most nutritive food in the world. Once I passed days without eating anything but these leaves, and believe it or not, I wasn't hungry at all. You ought to taste some..."
Hermione, who looked curious, cut her off with an inquiring glance, "How can you foresee the future? I've been informed it's a very inaccurate field in magic..."
"Indeed. Your genial Divination teacher... I know it, in your case, your genial ex-teacher, Herm. Can I call you Herm? Well, as I was telling you, Sybil may have told you, this is a matter of gift... there are many premonitory gifts, some are more, others are less precious, some reach more, other less. You must comprehend that Time, Herm, is a very subtle thing... when does future start being present? Nobody knows. Some minds - and it has nothing to do with cleverness - can foresee future and past as they see the present. And you shan't think," Sheeba was looking directly at Ron, "that it's a blessing. You saw my popularity as I arrived here..."
"And what kinds of gifts are these? I've never read anything about this..."
"Hermione, there are people who can't see the future, but from whom it's impossible to hide anything you've done in the past. Those are the Sniffers of the Truth. A Sniffer can tell if you're lying just by looking into your eyes; and doing this, he can even know exactly what you are hiding. It's like having a Veritasserum bottle by hand... many wizards - and even muggles - have this gift. Unfortunately, the Dark Wizards found out that the Sniffers can be stopped if their eyes are pierced. I've known many Sniffers who lost their gift by this way...," she took a breath and went on, "There are people able to say what nobody else would about future events, mostly tragedies. But their premonitions usually aren't taken seriously, and many times, they are so completely unbelievable, because those people don't see the normal future, only the extraordinary. Those people have the Touch of Cassandra.," she grinned devilish, "Sybil Trelawney would give her life to have this gift," she said "And, of course, there are the Fatalists. When a Fatalist looks at somebody, he knows exactly when and where this person is going to die. This, you may imagine, isn't very agreeable a thing. Most of the Fatalists I met are now at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies... this gift can make anybody mad," she went on, "Besides this and other premonitory gifts, anybody can receive the 'Blow of the Norns', premonitions that leave on their own the web of fate, and for some reason, they can assault any person. It's not a practicable gift. And, Harry, you must remember having seen a Blow of the Norns before, don't you? Professor Trelawney predicted, two years ago, the encounter of... well, you know what she predicted, don't you?"
"And there is the Touch of Prometheus," she went on, "For those who have the Touch of Prometheus, life's quite hard. Future Predictions and Past Visions pass before our eyes painfully. We just need to touch a person or a thing to know things - sometimes nearly everything; sometimes almost nothing, but never anything - about them. It's impossible to stop the 'Touch' completely, but one can always soothe or avoid it by the use of a Stunning Spell, or, if you're the clairvoyant, you can filter it hiding your hands under properly conjured fabric. This makes the conviviality with the curse easier. These gloves on me," she showed her hands, "make me have only good predictions and, of course, it avoids trouble. I'm here in the Ministry of Magic's service," she showed the Ministry Police badge, "I've been appointed to protect both the village and Hogwarts, and I've also got to help the Aurors by predicting the arrival of any Evil Power. I'll take you all to my house now, we really need to talk. And it won't help if he... if he tries to run away from me."
Harry looked suspiciously at Sirius. The resigned dog nodded. Harry was extremely curious to know why the hell his godparents were so hostile to each other.
The group walked across Hogsmeade and stopped in front of a house, just in front of the supposed-to-be-haunted village's house. It did not have any doors and its windows were completely full of bars, what made it look like a very ill-looking case without style, differently from all the other houses in the place.
The funny thing was that Harry had been to Hogsmeade many other times, and he had never seen this house before. Sirius was quiet and annoyed, but was still following them.
"This is my house!" Sheeba said cheerfully as if she was showing them a mansion, "I can't live anywhere else, so I carry this one everywhere. It's the only place in the world, beyond Hogwarts, where I'm able to feel home..." she did not explain how she carried the house, "And there's only a way to get in it," she showed them a key and a tiny door hanging in a key-ring, "Using this key. Stretch out your hands. Harry, hold the dog, we're going to get in," and she turned the key in the tiny door, and then, in just a moment, they were in her house.
The inside of Sheeba's house was completely different from its outside. The windows were big and did not have bars, and the house itself seemed much bigger (a common thing when it puts concern on Magic Houses). There was an immense room without any furniture, and in a corner, there was a round-pool under a glass roof; there was also a staircase that headed to a raised platform made out of wooden rods and then to the second floor and some doors that probably led to other rooms. The view from the window was different from Hogsmeade's landscape; there was a beach in front, and another beach behind; the sky that could be seen from the glass roof was very clear and had a summer sun that seemed the house was located in the Tropics.
"Wow!," said Ron, "You have a conjured view here! My mum always wanted it to our house."
Sheeba grinned, "At your right, the Egeus Sea, at the left, the Caribbean. The sun is from Morocco. This house was built by the best Magical Designer in the world! I've found out where his younger daughter, who ran away to marry a muggle, was. This house clean itself up by its own and I can choose the furniture according to my aura. Bauhaus!," she said, and modern pieces of furniture - in many shades of yellow and blue - sprung up. The white walls turned into yellow and the floor was now canary-yellow, "This is my favorite ornamentation."
Her house was comfortable and its temperature was very agreeable. Sheeba touched herself with the tip of her wand and her clothes were transfigured into long cobalt-blue robes, and her feet were now covered by blue fluffy rabbit slippers. An excited house-elf showed up, "Miss Sheeba, Miss Sheeba! Do Miss Sheeba want something, Miss Sheeba, lady? Water, Moravian Leaves, Dragon Blood Liqueur, Miss Sheeba, lady? Lemonade to Lady's guests, lady? A bone to half-ton dog, lady? Your little Smiley begs for a task... please, lady!"
"I've got a task for you, Smiley: go to your room and rest for at least two hours. Don't come back before the time."
"Smiley can't stand resting anymore!," the elf muttered as he headed to the kitchen, "This house that clear up by itself can't suit a house-elf!"
Sheeba sighed, "My house-elf isn't a slave, somebody gave me him as a gift and I don't want to free him, for I know he would end up working to a less generous wizard than I am... you see, Hermione, how we have things in common?"
Hermione shot a triumphant glance at Harry and Ron, who thought she would probably invite Sheeba to join SPEW. But Sheeba did not bother about this; she just knelt in the middle of the room, staring at the dog. "Sirius Black, show yourself," Sheeba looked at the dog gravely, and he immediately turned back into Sirius. She held a breath of emotion when Harry's godfather showed up in front of her, his black eyes shooting her a severe look.
They stood silent for a moment, looking at each other from the opposite sides of the room. Sheeba was holding her wand in her right hand, and it seemed that they were going to duel, except that Sirius did not have a wand. Harry did not have the faintest idea of what was going to happen, and neither did Ron nor Hermione.
Both Sirius and Sheeba started speaking, and it was quite difficult to understand what they were talking about, since they were practically talking at the same time, cutting each other off harshly. Sheeba looked at Sirius in fury and tapped her wand against her left hand impatiently, and as she was doing this, a dark smoke was arising from the tip of her wand slowly, forming a cloud on her head that let out some sparks and little lightning on the air in just a few minutes. Harry, Ron and Hermione could distinguish from the violent argument things such as "HOW CAN YOU POSSIBLY SAY THAT I DIDN'T HELP YOU? I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU FOR FOURTEEN YEARS!"
"IF YOU KNEW I WAS INNOCENT, WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU SEEK ME, SHEEBA? DO YOU HAVE THE FAINTEST IDEA OF WHAT DOES TWELVE YEARS IN AZKABAN MEAN?"
"WHAT DID YOU WANT ME TO DO? I TOLD YOU THAT YOU WERE THE ONLY ONE WHO COULD BE THE POTTER'S SECRET KEEPER AND YOU DIDN'T LISTEN TO ME! THIS WAS A TRUE BETRAYAL!"
"I DIDN'T BETRAY ANYBODY! IT WAS WORMTAIL! YOU KNOW IT, REMMEBER? YOU'RE MISS KNOW-IT-ALL, REMEMBER?"
"WHERE THE HELL DID YOU HAVE THIS STUPID IDEA OF TRUSTING PETER?"
"HE WAS MY FRIEND! YOU'VE NEVER TOLD ME HE WASN'T TRUSTFUL!"
"I HADN'T TOUCHED HIM, DO YOU REMMEBER THAT, MISTER SIRIUS ARROGANT BLACK? BUT COULDN'T YOU SUSPECT SOMEBODY WHO WAS ALWAYS SO AFRAID OF ME?"
"IT WASN'T ME WHO HAD THE TOUCH OF PROMETHEUS, WAS IT?"
"WHY THE BLOODY HELL DIDN'T YOU SEEK ME WHEN HE DIDN'T SHOW UP?"
"YOU HAD VANISHED IN THE EXACT MOMENT, DO YOU REMEMBER THAT? FOLLOWING THAT BLOODY DAMN SNAPE! YOU DIDN'T EVEN TELL ME WHERE YOU WERE!"
As the discussion was getting more violent, the cloud on Sheeba's head was growing, until she shouted, "I couldn't do anything!," and she burst into tears, almost at the same time that the cloud on her head started pouring an intense miniature storm over her. Thunders echoed over the room, and a huge puddle of water was spreading over the witch's - who was completely soaked now - feet. Sirius took a deep breath and stopped for a while, a feet away from her in silence, and then he asked Harry, "Harry, can you lend me your wand?,' Harry passed his wand to Sirius, who took and pointed it at the cloud and said, "Flora!". At the same moment, the dark cloud turned into a blue one, from which many big camellias (of the same color) were falling. Sirius was looking quietly at her, and Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other with the same puzzled expressions. Her robes were dried in less than a second.
"I didn't forget your favorite flowers," said Sirius as he came closer to Sheeba, "if I knew back then when I was in Azkaban that you knew I was innocent, I'd have at least a happy thought to deceive those Dementors."
To Ron, Hermione and Harry's surprise, Sheeba put her arms around Sirius's neck and they kissed passionately. Ron hid a mock laughter under his hand; Harry and Hermione shot him a reproof glance. The couple continued kissing in the middle of the room for what seemed like an eternity.
Sheeba whispered, "Sirius, we need to explain everything to them."
He turned around to face Harry, "Harry, you already know your godmother, Sheeba. Well, I guess I had to have told you before that we were... are engaged," Sirius put an arm around Sheeba and whispered, "Oh God, I missed you..."
"Why didn't anybody tell me about her?," Harry was annoyed because nobody had ever told him that he had a godmother.
"Harry," Sheeba began, "if you want to know why you hadn't met me before, you'll need to know all the story about my turning into your mother's best friend, and then, your godmother."
Sheeba invited them all to sit down on the enormous couch that rounded the room, and then, she sat at Sirius's side, holding his hand, and after a deep breath, she started telling them her story.
To be continued...