– CHAPTER THREE –
School Year: 1993-1994
The Great Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Saturday, 1st August, 1998
Harry glanced at his watch, deciding that he was kinda peckish after speaking for the last two hours. He conjured a plate of sandwiches and a pot of tea. "Sorry, folks, barely had time for breakfast this morning." He put two sandwiches on a plate, passing it to Hermione, then another two on his own, while she prepared the tea.
"Ah, dinner and a show." Harry muttered, biting ravenously into his sandwich. "Feel free to conjure yourselves something to eat, too. At this rate, we're gonna be here for quite a while yet."
After finishing his first sandwich, Harry wiped his mouth, and carried on with the tale. "Where was I? Ah, yes. Getting home from Hogwarts. Naturally, myself and Hermione decided that carrying on with the arrangements from the previous summer would work best. To reiterate, I would Portkey over to Hermione's, or she would Portkey over to my relative's house. We carried on with our intensive studies, focussing more on Defensive magic and the Mind Arts.
"Ooh, incidentally," Harry said, smiling at Hermione in remembrance, "when Professor Snape came round for our first summer potions lesson, we burned the Lockhart books, wrapping up some potatoes in foil, and using them to fuel the fire. That was a satisfying meal."
Hermione snorted at him. "It was. Watching those pictures of Lockhart burning..." She sighed happily.
"We also discovered something quite interesting, in some of the books we borrowed from the library. We learned that, by using certain rituals, it was possible to share inherited gifts, as well as hide those gifts. I shared the ability to speak Parseltongue with Hermione, and we performed a concealment ritual, a bit like the Fidelius charm. Each time one of us spoke Parseltongue, the people around us would hear an instantly forgotten conversation about a History of Magic assignment, so we could talk freely."
Percy, again, climbed to his feet, his parchment and quill in hand. "So... you're telling us that you passed the Parseltongue ability, a known Dark ability, to Granger in some kind of Dark ritual."
"No." Harry said brusquely. "That's not what I'm telling you."
Scribbling notes furiously, Percy sat down.
"At the end of second year, we're asked to pick our elective courses for third through fifth years. Ron decided to pick Care of Magical Creatures and Divination, since they were the two easiest courses available, and he wanted easy grades. Hermione, naturally, wanted everything. As did I. So, like my beautiful wife, I signed up for all five of the elective courses."
Harry looked over, to see a red-faced Ron miming angrily. "I'm gonna regret this..." Harry muttered, flicking his wand in Ron's direction, removing the silencing charm that had been cast by Arthur earlier in the day. "Something on your mind, Ronnie-boy?"
"Yeah!" Ron spat. "You didn't sign up for all those courses! You were with me, in Divination and Care. You weren't running off all the time!"
Harry deftly reapplied the silencing charm, grinning widely as Ron's face turned a beautiful puce colour. "As I was saying, Hermione and I signed up for all five courses. There was, however, a small problem; at least three of the electives ran at the same time. So, how would we attend them? The answer? A time-turner."
Both Harry and Hermione had already started looking over at Percy Weasley. Predictably, the sycophantic little shit was already clambering to his feet.
"Did Dumbledore give the both of you time-turners?" He demanded petulantly.
"Yep." Harry and Hermione replied in unison.
"Dumbledore gave a pair of immature children the ability to manipulate time, just so you could attend a few extra courses?"
Hermione cleared her throat sharply. "Well, I'd argue with the 'immature children' comment, but yes, he gave us time-turners so that we could attend all five electives."
Percy was already scribbling notes. "You are aware that illegal possession of a time-turner is an automatic 5-year sentence at Azkaban, I presume?"
"Yes." The Potters intoned together.
"And you were using them for an entire year?"
"No." Came the dual-reply.
"Then for how long?"
"If you'd stop interrupting, we'd tell you." Hermione said sharply.
"Where was I?" Harry asked, looking at his wife.
"Signed up for all courses." Hermione prompted.
"Right." Harry nodded. "During the summer, Hermione had gone to Diagon Alley to pick up the basic books and supplies we'd need for the summer, with a purse full of my coin, and we were planning to go again at the end of summer, for our third year supplies. After the 'inflating incident' with my Uncle's sister, my Uncle demanded that I leave. So, I packed my trunk and portkeyed across to Hermione's. She told me that the Ministry would have detected the outburst, and would be sending Obliviators and the Reversal Squad round. So, I portkeyed back, and staged a big leaving scene, storming out of my Aunt and Uncle's house.
"I caught the Knight Bus to the Leaky Cauldron, and would spend the rest of the holidays in the Alley, naturally Portkeying across to Hermione's, and her to me. Professor Dumbledore reconfigured our Portkeys so we could go from the Cauldron to Hermione's and back again. That way, we'd be able to eat out, shop in the Alley, and generally enjoy ourselves.
"When my birthday came round, I received a package from the Weasleys, along with a newspaper clipping, showing that they'd won the Annual Prophet Grand Prize draw. With the money, they decided to take a family holiday to Egypt. So, I knew I wouldn't be kidnapped that year. I carried on with my studying, meeting up with the Weasleys at the end of August. While there, Ron took his pet rat into the Magical Menagerie, and Hermione bought herself a... pet cat. Or very small tiger." He glanced at his wife, who had narrowed her eyes slightly. "We never did find out what he is, exactly."
Deciding that it was better to continue the tale rather than risk the ire of his wife, he carried on. "So, we stayed in the cauldron on August 31st, Hermione bunking with me that night (and what an enjoyable night it was). However, before I went to bed, I overheard Molly and Arthur talking, saying that Sirius Black was coming after me. The following morning, I got up early, heading to Flourish and Blotts, looking for some books regarding Sirius Black. I bought three, packed them into my bag, headed back to the pub, and we headed to King's Cross.
"Just before I got on the train, Arthur pulled me to one side, warning me about Sirius, and he made me promise not to go looking for Sirius. I was confused; why would I go looking for a mass-murdering psycho? I decided that I'd ask the Professors when I got to school. The train ride, though, I shared the conversation with Hermione..."
Flashback: Hogwarts Express, Passing through the Midlands
Wednesday, 1st September, 1993
"So, what's up, Harry?"
"In a minute, Hermione." Harry drew his wand, flicking it towards Ron. "Somnus." He intoned quietly, sending the redhead to a sound and steady sleep. "Okay." He tucked his wand away, glancing at the older man in their compartment. He was still snoring lightly.
"Arthur Weasley pulled me aside before we got on the train. He told me that Sirius Black is after me."
"Which you overheard last night."
"Yeah... but, he deliberately told me... and he made me promise not to go looking for Black."
Hermione cocked an eyebrow. "Why on earth would you go looking for a man who wants to kill you? You'd have to be as stupid as Malfoy..." Her eyes involuntarily flicked to Ron. Harry caught the movement, and nodded. "Yeah, him, too." Hermione finished. "Why, though? Why does he think that you'd chase down a fully qualified, powerful dark wizard?"
"I don't know. This morning, as soon as I woke up, I popped across to the bookshop. I found three books about Black. I flicked through them, and it said that Black was the Secret-Keeper for my parents. He was the one who sold them out to Voldemort."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "What else?"
"According to the book, Dad and Black were best mates, brothers in all but blood. He was best man at my parents' wedding. When the Potters decided to go into hiding, it was fairly obvious that they'd pick him at the Secret-Keeper."
"Open and shut case." Hermione said. "Of course, our life hasn't been 'open and shut' for the last two years. One thing I've found about Wizarding press and books is that, while they may be accurate, they never print the whole picture. There's far too much that's subjective, and that's never covered."
"My conclusions exactly. While this story may contain the truth, it's not the whole truth. And there's something else, too."
"Oh?"
"Yeah... according to the teachers, during our Sunday morning discussions, Dad hung out with three other lads."
"Yeah, you mentioned them. 'Marauders'. Sound like kids playing grown-up." Hermione tutted disapprovingly.
"Well... yeah, they do. But, the important part is the names of the four lads. James Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew... and Remus J. Lupin."
Hermione's eyes automatically flickered to her left, where the new professor was sleeping. "As in the man sitting two feet to your right?"
"Logic would dictate that he is the same man. Shabbiness aside, he looks to be the right age. And if he is the same man, it'll be fairly easy to spot."
"Oh?"
"Yeah." Harry leaned back, folding his arms across his chest. "He's a werewolf."
Again, Hermione faced the professor, scrutinising his appearance. "It would explain a couple of things. His shabby clothes, hair starting to go grey a little before his time. That scar on his cheek."
"Yeah, Wizarding medicine can remove most scars, but scars made by a werewolf are hellishly difficult to remove. Also, I have vague memories of an 'Unca Mooey', from when I was little. If he was one of Dad's best friends..."
"Yeah." She snorted. "That's a bloody awful play on words; 'Moony' for a werewolf. Your Dad's sense of humour was pretty naff."
"Possibly... the point is, I hope that our Moony will be up for some story-telling."
"Let's also hope that Professor Lupin can help wriggle the truth about Black out. I, for one, would love to know." Hermione concluded.
"At the beginning of our tale, I told you that I'd spend every Sunday with one of the teachers, hearing tales and stories about my parents and their friends. Well, the Defence professor that year, a Mr. Lupin..." Harry turned to the communications mirror behind him, where Remus and Tonks were listening to the tale with undisguised awe; they hadn't heard most of this before. The other portraits were sitting listening, waiting to add their two Knuts worth when appropriate. "Remus told me about Sirius Black, that he was my godfather, betrayer of his best friend, yada, yada, yada."
Hermione took over the monologue. "We began attending classes, myself and Harry slipping off to manipulate time and attend all the courses. We quickly got into the rhythm of things, attending twelve courses, doing all that homework and reading, and even keeping up with our advanced studies. By this point, both of us were pretty proficient Occlumens, our minds near-impenetrable from external attack. Severus would randomly attack our shields, making certain that our defences were adequate."
Snape's portrait spoke up. "Indeed. I never once managed to penetrate your shields. A truly impressive accomplishment, considering your ages. I myself didn't become that good until I was 22."
Percy again began to stand up.
"Enough, Weatherby." Harry called out wearily. "God damn it, we're only part way through our third year, and I'm getting bored with you. Make your notes about these fictional charges, and we'll answer your questions at the end, all right?" He shook his head, muttering depreciations about the Weasley family in general.
"The first two months passed normally. Me and Hermione worked hard, played hard, spent most of our time together, including bunking. We spent time with Moony, learning about the Potters. Apart from the whole 'psychotic mass murderer trying to kill me on the loose' thing, life was going pretty well. Of course, there was an ugly situation coming up. I hadn't got my Hogsmeade form signed by my relatives, so I was stuck in the castle. Hermione offered to stay behind, but I knew that Hogsmeade has a book shop that Hermione hadn't seen, and I didn't want to deprive her of the chance.
"I spent the day talking to Moony, and I saw Severus dropping off a goblet full of potion. Thanks to my studies, I knew that this was Wolfsbane. I asked Moony, straight out, to admit if he was a werewolf. With an expression that made him look like he was crapping razor blades, he confessed he was."
"Hey, I was nervous!" Remus said from the mirror. "You've seen some of the prejudice I face, just because I turn into a ravening bloodthirsty beast one night a month."
Harry couldn't help himself. "True, Moony... but then again, you're married to Tonks, who, let's be honest, turns into a ravening, bloodthirsty beast five days a month. And I remember Boxing Day '95... I think I'd rather face Moony, without Wolfsbane, than her."
Tonks scowled at him. "I still blame you for that, Potter."
"As you should, Lupin." Harry retorted instantly. "Anyway, Hermione went to Hogsmeade, checking out the bookshop and other parts of the village, while Ron tagged along with her. That night was the night Sirius Black tried to attack the Fat Lady portrait. We all went and slept in the Great Hall. What fun that was. A whole bunch of teenagers with dubious personal hygiene, loitering around. During the first Quidditch match of the season, while Malfoy was still milking the scratch he got during a Care of Magical Creatures lesson, my broom got destroyed.
"What is not commonly known is that I saw a Grim, watching from the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Didn't I, Padfoot?"
The portrait managed to plaster an innocent look on his face. "I'm not sure what you mean, Harry. I'm a good dog, me."
"You're an evil mutt." Harry muttered, with a 'hear, hear!' from Severus. "But, I fell off my broom, courtesy of a dreadful storm and a whole host of Dementors. My faithful Nimbus 2000 was destroyed by the Whomping Willow, a truly evil tree. During Quidditch practice, I was using one of the old school brooms, a Shooting Star, with all the speed and raw throbbing power of a ladyshave. I could have used Hermione's Cleansweep, but that was her broom, and I didn't want to deprive her of it.
"Then came the next Hogsmeade visit. Ron, rather smugly, I thought, and Hermione headed out for Hogsmeade. Hermione was looking forward to doing her Christmas shopping in a Wizarding village, while Ron was just enjoying getting out of school. Secretly, I suspect that he was quite enjoying having something that the 'famous Harry Potter' didn't have. Of course, I couldn't prove it, but it doesn't really matter."
Harry glanced over at Ron, noting the fuming redhead mouthing something. He didn't really care was it was. "Fred and George, bless their little marauding spirit, dragged me to one side, and presented me with a tatty piece of parchment. They tapped it with their wand, saying a password, and the parchment turned into a map of Hogwarts, complete with secret passages. It also displayed the location and identity of every person in Hogwarts."
"Ah, our finest work." James reminisced from his portrait. "I know we made several versions, but the mark one... truly a thing of beauty."
"It was ugly." Lily said, frowning. "Version 2.0 was much better."
"Of course it was." Lupin called over from his mirror. "You designed it, Lily. And your charms work was far better than ours. But, James is right. The prototype was something we were all very proud of."
"The prototype was mean." Snape said. "All those built-in insults."
James looked over at Sirius. "Didn't we take those off in seventh year?"
"No. We couldn't be arsed, since he mainly used 2.0." Sirius replied. "But, you have to admit, some of those insults were pretty good."
"No, I don't." Snape said dryly.
Harry cleared his throat loudly, mock-scowling at the portraits, who settled down. Albus, from his frame, just twinkled. Harry turned back to the crowd. "We have to live with this." He shook his head. "So, armed with the Marauders' Map, and Dad's invisibility cloak, I snuck into Hogsmeade, bypassing the Dementors completely. Once inside the Three Broomsticks, I overheard Fudge gossiping with Madam Rosmerta and several of the Professors. Minerva and Filius knew that I knew about Sirius, but they couldn't really say anything with Fudgepacker right there."
Hermione stepped closer to her husband, rubbing his back supportively. "I admit, hearing them all casually talking about the brutal murder of my parents kinda annoyed me. To Fudge, it was just a story. Idiot..."
Flashback: Outside the Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade, Scotland
Saturday, 18th December, 1993
Harry had left the pub, fuming with indignation. Stupid fucking wanker! He thought angrily. Yes, 'Did Black betray them?' 'He did indeed.' Yeah, it was a dreadful shame, but there we go. Harry kicked through a bank of snow, watching it fly through the air.
After a few moments, Ron and Hermione appeared through the snow, casually walking towards him.
"Harry?" Hermione called softly, her voice filled with concern and love. "Are you here?"
He reached up, gently pressing his fingers against her face. "I'm here." He said softly.
"Are you okay?"
Ron decided to open his mouth, without thinking (as usual). "Yeah, mate... it's cold out here."
Dickhead. Harry and Hermione thought in unison. Hermione continued. "Harry, I know it's painful to talk about."
"Yeah, never mind that boring shite." Ron said. "Harry, how did you get down here? I thought Dementors could see through invisibility cloaks."
"Fred and George gave me a map." Harry replied tonelessly, annoyed at Ron's dismissal of his feelings as 'boring shite'. "It shows the location of everyone in the castle, as well as the secret passages and passwords."
Ron's jaw dropped. "How come Fred and George never gave it to me?" He demanded, outraged. "I'm their brother!"
"I'm sure Harry's going to hand it in to Professor McGonagall, aren't you, Harry?" Hermione asked. Harry, however, could read her tone, and he knew she would never allow such a useful tool to be taken away from them.
"Are you mental?" Ron asked rudely. "Hand in something that good to a teacher? Why would he do that?"
"Because Sirius Black might be using one of these passages to get into the school. The teachers need to know about it."
"Hermione, sometimes you're so unbelievably stupid!" Ron snapped.
Raising an eyebrow slowly, Hermione flicked her wand. "Confundus!" Ron blinked, as the confusion charm ran throughout his brain. While he was blinking, Hermione whipped out her own invisibility cloak, disappearing underneath.
"Oi, Weasley." Harry said in a gruff voice. "What you doing stood there? Granger's already gone back to Hogwarts."
Ron blinked again, before staggering away, heading back to the carriages.
After a moment, Hermione pressed closer, pulling off her cloak and climbing under his. "Okay, now that the idiot's gone, we can talk properly."
"Do you really want me to hand in such a useful rule-breaking and learning tool?" Harry asked, amused.
"Do I bollocks!" Hermione retorted. "I was just screeching for Weasley's benefit. No, that's far too useful. Also, while we're time-turning, we'll be able to keep track of our other selves." She reached up, caressing his cheek. "Now, onto important matters; are you okay?"
Harry sighed. "Fudge strikes me as a complete arsehole..."
"Yeah, I got that." Hermione giggled. "Come on, Harry... the people who matter know the truth."
"I know..." Harry sighed, wrapping an arm round Hermione's shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss on her lips. "Shall we wander back? I know a cold, dark, drafty and dirty tunnel that's very good for privacy."
"Oh, Harry, you take me to such wonderful places..." She simpered. "Lead on, your romantic beast, you..." Hermione chuckled.
"On Christmas Eve, Hermione came and kipped with me again, sharing a kiss and cuddle as the clock struck midnight. That was the best present I received, in my opinion. In the morning, I started to open my presents..."
Flashback: Third Year Boys' Dormitory, Gryffindor Tower, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Saturday, 25th December, 1993
Wakefulness was not slow in returning as a pillow was pushed through the gap in Harry's bed-curtains, slapping straight into his head, rather harder than was necessary. "Oi!" Ron's voice called out. "Presents!"
Bleary-eyed, Harry nudged Hermione awake, who quickly grabbed her invisibility cloak and staggered to one side. Harry gave her a few moments to get into position to race for the door, before he opened his curtains. "Wha?" He slurred to Ron.
The redhead smirked at him. "Get up, you lazy prat! It's Christmas morning! You've got presents!"
I had a better present lying in my bed, you annoying gonk! Harry thought viciously, before slipping his glasses onto his nose. With a grunt, he shuffled to the bottom of his bed, noting a small stack of presents. Fortunately, he'd made his exchanges with Hermione at midnight, the pendant and earrings set being a big hit with her, while she bought him some rather natty and stylish clothes, which he'd make sure to leave at her house, since the Dursleys would take them to give to Dudley (never mind that the chubby bugger could never fit in them).
With a sigh, he unwrapped a suspiciously familiar package. Joy! Another patronising and insulting present from the Weasley family. The paper fell away. Oh, look! A Weasley sweater! How... unexpected. Further investigation revealed more unhealthy home-made 'treats'. Ooh... mince pies; I don't like mincemeat. Christmas cake; don't like dried fruit... Nut brittle, too... I don't like nuts, either. Bloody hell... doesn't that woman listen?
The saviour of Harry Potter's sanity walked into the dorm room, clad in a tight dressing gown, with her hair even bushier than normal. Damn, she's cute like that. Harry thought. In her arms was her small tiger Crookshanks.
"Hey, Crooks." Harry called out, letting the large feline approach. "Merry Christmas." He looked up to his better half. "Morning, Hermione. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Harry." She said dreamily, before turning to the red-haired menace. "Ron."
"Herms." He said, stuffing a handful of nut brittle into his mouth, engaging in the time-saving practice of not bothering to close his mouth while chewing.
"Ooh," Hermione's voice was full of sarcasm. "Harry, Mrs. Weasley sent you a sweater! That's nice of her." She glanced at the head of his bed, where he'd stashed the boxes containing the comfortable jeans, shirts and hoodies she'd bought for him.
"Yes." Harry said carefully, allowing the real meaning of, 'yes, again, I've been insulted.' He reached under his pillow, pulling out a small, neatly wrapped package. "Here you go, Hermione. Present for the tiger." Said animal was thoroughly investigating the wrapping paper from the Weasley package.
Ron looked up with jealousy. "You got that thing a present?" He looked down at the bulge in his pyjama pocket, where Scabbers the rat was hiding. "Why?"
Harry glanced at Hermione, who gave a microscopic eye roll. "Ron, are you asking why I bought the cat a present... or why I didn't buy Scabbers one?"
"Er... both." Ron said after a moment of hard thinking.
"I bought Crooks a present, 'cause that's what Muggle families do. They buy presents for their pets." He looked down at Crookshanks, who was busy batting at a piece of dangling ribbon. "Of course, there's no bloody point in buying a cat or a dog a present, since they find the wrapping paper so fascinating." He looked up. "As for why did I buy anything for Scabbers, Ron, I have one question." Why the bloody hell should I? "What the hell do you buy for a pet rat?"
"Er..."
"Moving on." Hermione said, looking down at Harry's bed, the place she'd been comfortable and warm less than twenty minutes ago. "You've got another couple of presents there, Harry." Investigating the pile, Harry saw a small package, about the size of a book. He quickly looked at the card.
I saw this, and thought of you.
You can watch it in Albus' Pensieve, or arrange to buy your own.
I have many more.
Remus.
Harry opened the package, pulling out what appeared to be a book. He opened the book, seeing what looked like polystyrene wrapped tightly around a test tube, with a glowing silver strand inside it. "What the hell's this, Hermione?"
Her eyes widened. "It's a memory strand, Harry. One of the cool things in the Wizarding world is that you can extract a copy of your memories, and play them back. It's like a 3D home movie."
On the side of the vial was a short note. The Potters' Wedding Day. "Hermione... it's my parents' wedding... He's given me a home movie of my parents' wedding?"
"Yeah..." Hermione nodded slowly. "That's a top present. Does he say how to play it?"
Harry rechecked the note. "He says to watch it in a 'Pensieve'." He closed his eyes, thinking back to one of the Mind Arts books he'd read. "That's, er... that's one of those runic bowls, isn't it?"
Ron just scoffed. "Come on, mate! You've got more presents to open!"
Both Harry and Hermione scowled at the redhead, who didn't notice, thanks to finishing his nut brittle, and was starting work on his mince pies. Harry pulled another package to him, a thick, but slightly bendy parcel. "Hermione, your Mum and Dad have sent me something." He quickly started to unwrap the parcel, only to encounter difficulty. "Ah, your mum's one of those evil people who tape up all the seams, so you can't get into them, isn't she?"
Hermione giggled and nodded. "Yeah... sorry. Just vanish the paper. It's what I did."
With a flick of his wand, the wrapping paper disappeared, revealing three thick textbooks. "Cool... GCSE Biology, Chemistry and Physics. Excellent."
"Books?" Ron said, disgust in his voice. "You got a present from Hermione's parents, and it's books?" He thought for a moment. "Why did Hermione's parents get you a present?"
Harry looked up. "Possibly for the same reason that your parents gave me a present." Or, she knew that we're both into studying, and I would appreciate this present. Instead of having your family send me a pity gift. He chuckled softly to himself. Maybe it's 'cause I've met them and spent a great deal of time with them, finding out their interests, and them finding out mine.
"Hmm..." Ron looked unconvinced, but dropped the subject.
The last present, a long, thick package, was quickly unwrapped. "Hmm... no card." Harry said, looking down at the Firebolt carefully.
"Wow..." Ron intoned, his eyes locking onto the broomstick. "Who'd spend that much on you?"
Hermione looked Harry in the eyes, the words 'I would' firmly visible. "Dunno." Harry murmured. "I'm betting it wasn't the Dursleys, though."
"I bet it was Dumbledore!" Ron crowed. "He's always liked you. And, he gave you that invisibility cloak in first year." Again, the jealousy was back.
"That was my Dad's cloak he was returning, Ron." Harry said firmly. "He couldn't spend this much on a broomstick. It's just not feasible. I mean... this is a 1,600 Galleon broom."
Hermione quickly did the mental arithmetic, coming up with a figure of 80,000 pounds. Christ... you could buy a small house for that. She let out a low whistle. "That's... that's a hell of a gift, Harry. Based on that price, a Firebolt's a lot better than a Nimbus 2001, isn't it?"
"Loads." Ron said contemptuously. "A 2001 is only about 600 galleons. The Firebolt's an international standard broom." He snickered/sneered. "Harry, just imagine Malfoy's face when he sees you riding this." He fell off the bed, laughing, but keeping his eye on the broom. "Maybe Lupin sent it to you."
Yeah, Lupin, a guy who's barely able to keep a job because of a medical condition, can afford to spend eighty grand on a broom for me. That's why he has such poor clothes, and is too thin. That must be it, Ron. Never mind that I've already unwrapped his present. "I doubt it, Ron." Harry said.
Hermione cleared her throat. "So, this is a very good broom, then?" She asked, staring intently at Harry, who nodded slightly, then cast a small glance at Ron, prompting Hermione to nod in response.
"Hermione!" Ron said. "It's the best broom you can buy." He waved her off dismissively. "Can I have a ride, Harry?"
It was at that point that the deities intervened in the lives of Harry and Hermione, in the form of a squashed-faced, bow-legged cat with a bottlebrush tail, as said cat leapt onto Ron's bed. Scabbers the rat scrabbled out of Ron's pocket, making a break for the door and freedom from the cat.
"That bloody animal!" Ron shouted, tearing through the door and down the stairs.
"Two things, Harry." Hermione said, in a business-like tone. "One, I think Black might have sent you that broom, hoping for another accident. You should get it checked out. Two, I think you should keep it out of the dorm. I saw the way his eyes lit up..."
Harry nodded. "Agreed."
"You want me to be the villain?" She asked quickly, peering through the door, listening for the return of the walking stomach. "I can go and report it to McGonagall, 'behind your back', so she can confiscate it, and keep it under lock and key until game time."
"Would you?" Harry asked. "Are you sure, Hermione? I mean... he'll be a complete arsehole."
"And with any luck, he won't speak to me for several weeks." She grinned. "What a great Christmas present that would be."
"Yeah." Harry replied, nodding wearily. "If you're sure, Hermione."
"...rotten bloody animal!" Ron's voiced echoed as he came up the stairs, his trembling rat in hand. He saw Hermione still standing there. "From now on, keep that bloody cat out of my dorm! Scabbers is very stressed, and you need to keep that... creature under control! Scabbers was here first, and he's more important than that stupid cat!"
Hermione raised an eyebrow, looking at Ron as though he'd just dropped out of Crookshanks' bottom. "Fine." She spat, scooping up the cat and stalking out of the dorm.
After a two-hour Christmas dinner, in which Harry was convinced he'd put on at least twelve kilos, he stood up and made his way back to the common room. He put the Firebolt on the table, pulling out his broom servicing kit. Being a brand new broom, though, there was nothing that Harry could do to it, since it was already in top condition.
McGonagall stalked into the common room, followed by Hermione, who managed to look meek and worried as she sat down, picking up a book and pretending to read. She didn't want to miss this show for all the gold in Gringotts.
"This it, Potter?" She asked, hefting the Firebolt from the coffee table.
For a brief moment, Harry had the urge to say, 'Er, no, Professor. The broom you want is upstairs on my bed. This is a completely different Firebolt.' He fought with, and restrained, the urge. "Yes, Professor."
"And there was no note?" She asked.
"No, ma'am."
Making sure Ron was glaring at Hermione, McGonagall winked at Harry. "I shall have to confiscate this, Potter."
"W-What?" Harry asked, putting on a very convincing performance. "Why?"
"It will need to be checked for jinxes and curses. I'm not a broom expert, but I'll arrange for Professor Flitwick and Madam Hooch to strip it down, and run a full check. Of course, neither of them have ever done this before, so it may take a while, and there might be a few faults with it after they're done..."
Ron's reaction was priceless, considering it wasn't his broom. "'Strip it down'?" He repeated. "Strip it down! You can't!"
McGonagall glared at Ron, making him quail. "You seem to be under the impression that I have to take orders from you, Weasley. You may have a detention for your petulant display. Report to Mr. Filch tomorrow morning at 8am." She tucked the broom under her arm and stalked out of the common room, Crookshanks following obediently behind.
Ron span on his heel. "Who the hell do you think you are?" He hissed menacingly.
"Excuse me?" Hermione said, looking up over her book.
"No, I don't think I will." Ron spat. "How dare you go running to McGonagall?"
Raising an eyebrow, Hermione looked up at Ron defiantly. "Because I thought, and Professor McGonagall agreed with me, that the broom was sent to Harry by Sirius Black!" And with a huff, she climbed the stairs to the girls' dormitory.
Ron let out a strangled yell before he stalked out of the portrait hole, presumably going to shout at the mousy little first year he'd seen at Christmas dinner.
Later than evening, when Harry and Hermione were tucked up into bed, she smiled at him. "Minerva sent a note with Crookshanks. They performed a full series of scans, and the broom's clean."
"They can tell that quickly?" Harry asked.
"Yeah." Hermione semi-shrugged; it was difficult to do when lying on your boyfriend's chest. "There's a spell called Specialis Revelio, which-"
"Yeah, I know the one. I didn't know that works on broomsticks, though." Harry asked.
"It does. It displays a complete list of all spells and charms on an enchanted item. Even possibly hidden spells. The broom came up clean. McGonagall said she'll keep it until a few days before the match, so you have a few days to practice."
"Cool." Harry said, snuggling a little closer. "I don't particularly fancy flying round in the middle of a blizzard, anyway. I'm just glad Ollie's not here right now. He'd be driving us all nuts about this."
Hermione pressed a kiss against his nipple, before flicking it with her tongue. "I'm glad you agreed to have it checked out."
"I'm glad you told me what you were planning." He retorted, breathing in slightly as her tongue got into the right rhythm. "I'd have been pissed if you actually had gone behind my back."
"I wouldn't do that to you, Harry." Hermione said tenderly, breaking away from her ministrations for a few moments. "But, I was worried about that broom."
"Hermione, you're definitely the smart one in our relationship, but I'm far from stupid. I don't fancy another death-defying fall from a broomstick." He sighed, and pressed a kiss onto the top of her head. "And best of all, we've got our anti-Dementor lessons coming up within the fortnight. Remus and Severus are gonna teach us how to fight."
"No... best of all, I've still got you." Hermione whispered, moving her hand down to a special part of his body.
"You'll always have me." Harry moaned as she took hold of him with that grip he loved so much...
Harry looked over at Ron. "So, Ron... you made the assumption that Hermione had gone behind my back to grass up the broomstick to Professor McGonagall. You never thought to ask if she had my permission, did you? No, you just leapt to a conclusion, and started ranting." Harry looked at the whole crowd. "Like the vast majority of the Wizarding world. You get the absolute barest scrap of information, and leap to conclusions. The best part of this saga is just how easy it was to trick you all... because we didn't have to do anything."
"The Wizarding world suffers from the sheeple syndrome; you follow the voice that bleats the loudest. Hopefully, with a corruption-free Ministry, and a series of reforms, Magical Britain will improve, and become a better place for all of us." Hermione said reasonably.
"With you in charge?" A snide voice asked from the middle of the audience.
Harry clicked his fingers and pointed in the general area of the speaker. "There! You see? We made a simple statement, that man leapt to conclusions, and suddenly, the whole of Magical Britain will think we're trying to take over. You all leap to conclusions." His gaze locked in on the bottle-blonde of Rita Skeeter. "And you, Skeeter, are one of the main causes of this. You peddle lies, bullshit and slander, just to sell newspapers and books. You don't bother to do the right and honourable thing and check your facts, like any half-decent reporter. You spy, sneak, get it wrong, and suddenly... I'll be the new Dark Lord."
"The people have a right to know, Potter!" Skeeter said snidely.
"The people have a right to the truth, Skeeter!" Harry replied, equally as snidely. "But then again, you probably don't understand that word." He shrugged. "No matter, no matter. As fun as it would be to stop now, the saga must continue."
Hermione cleared her throat, taking a sip of her water. "Just after the students returned in the New Year, myself and Harry began our anti-Dementor lessons, with Professors Lupin and Snape. A Defence Master, and a Dark Arts and Defence Master. Between the two of them, there's probably not a defensive spell or technique they don't know. We met up in the History of Magic classroom..."
Flashback: History of Magic classroom, Sixth Floor, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Thursday, 6th January, 1994 - 20:01
Hermione and Harry entered the History of Magic room under Harry's invisibility cloak, quickly pulling it off and stuffing it into Harry's pocket.
"Ah, I remember that cloak." Remus said fondly, as he watched it disappear into Harry's pocket. "James would often disappear under that cloak. Especially in his seventh year. And when he came back... well, the rumours about a werewolf's sense of smell are not exaggerated."
Snape cleared his throat from the shadows. "As fun as it is reminiscing, Moony, we really should get on with this lesson. I have a sneaking suspicion these sessions will not be as unnoticed as we may wish."
Lupin nodded. "Okay. Defence against Dementors. There is only a single spell that will work against a Dementor, called the Patronus charm. This is a post NEWT-level spell, but I believe the two of you will have both the power and control necessary to cast it."
"Does it require a high magical ability to cast, sir? I mean, I know Harry's very powerful, far more than I am."
Lupin looked at Snape, as both men degenerated into sniggers. Hermione huffed, putting her fists on her hips as she glared at them. "When you've quite finished..." She said dangerously.
"Sorry, Hermione." Snape said, barely managing to get his chuckles under control. "The reason that's funny is that you, at a mere fourteen years old, are already at least equal to our level of power, and you still have several more years of magical development, yet."
"Oh..." Hermione muttered.
"In care you're wondering, Harry, you're a little further up the power scale, and you have almost another year on top of Hermione's. You're going to be very powerful when your time comes." Lupin shook his head, focussing on the task at hand. "Patronus charms. Basically, a manifestation of positive emotions and thoughts. Although it sounds like food to a Dementor, it's actually poison, because it's unpalatable. It's the only thing they're afraid of. They'll run from a powerful enough Patronus."
Harry nodded. "Okay. What does a powerful Patronus look like? According to the book, they take the shape of animals."
"Indeed." Snape confirmed. "Should have known you'd have read up on the spell."
The two teens gave Snape a look that suggested he shared brain cells with a Flobberworm. "Right... you've read up on it. Of course you have. So, in order to produce a Patronus, you need to focus on a happy thought. A truly happy, powerful memory." He slowly raised an eyebrow. "I assume that you've been working on creating those."
Harry nodded. "That wouldn't be an inaccurate assumption, sir." He replied, deadpan. "Can we see your Patroni?"
Remus shrugged, flicking his wand as he intoned, "Expecto Patronum!" A large wolf bounded out of his wand, looking a little indistinct in the relatively bright light of the classroom. The wolf sniffed for a few moments, before realising that it's prey wasn't in the room, and faded from sight.
With a casual flick, Snape summoned his. A small werewolf erupted, sniffing Moony for a moment, before prowling around.
"A werewolf, Severus?" Lupin asked, amused. "Not quite what I'd picture from you."
Snape just shrugged. "Coming face to face with a werewolf was probably the most frightening thing I've ever seen, Remus. If I have a choice of having one of them on my side, even as an ethereal guardian protector, I'm having it."
The werewolf faded, vanishing back into the mist.
"You've faced a werewolf, sir?" Harry asked. "When?"
"Er... actually, me." Remus said sheepishly. "During our fifth year, just after our OWL exams, Sirius told Snape to go and look in the Shrieking Shack on the full moon. That's where I used to go when I transformed. Back then, the Wolfsbane potion didn't exist, so I was a fully-fledged monster."
"When I came across Moony, I damn near shit myself in terror." Snape admitted, without a trace of shame. "Your dad came and pulled me out of the way, at great personal risk to himself, before transforming into his stag form, and beating Moony back. Sirius was there, in his dog form, helping to subdue him. I ran, heading back to the edge of the school. James came upon me a few moments later, and he apologised. I pledged a life-debt to him, right there and then."
"Wait... Black told you to go and play with a werewolf?" Hermione asked incredulously. "That's almost an attempt at killing you!"
Remus sighed. "In Sirius' defence, which is not something I particularly want to do, he was joking. As soon as Severus turned up, Sirius beat me back, and then went and apologised."
"After a rather enjoyable fistfight, which ended up with Black spending three days in the Hospital Wing," Snape said with a grin, "I accepted his apology. At that point, I became the fifth Marauder. Unfortunately, not everyone is capable of becoming an Animagus, so I never got assigned one of the 'traditional' Marauder names."
"You, sir?" Harry asked, his face a mask of shock. "You... but, Professor McGonagall said that you and my Dad didn't get on with each other."
"And we didn't, at first." Snape said amiably. "I don't deny it; I didn't like James. He was... well, a bit of a prick, to be honest. He mellowed out, though. After the prank war of fifth year, we joined forces."
"I still remember the bubble-bomb incident." Lupin chuckled. "Man, it took two days for James to counteract that one."
Snape saw the confusion on the children's faces. "I charmed a dungbomb to attach itself to James' nose, then cast a bubblehead charm on him, trapping the stench inside." He sighed happily. "That was truly exceptional work on my part."
"Hang on, though..." Harry said, "if you were friends with my folks, how did you end up joining the Death Eaters?"
Snape slumped onto one of the desks. "In a rather ironic twist... because of your Mum, Harry."
"Eh?"
"Lily Evans was a beautiful, brilliant witch, unmatched by any of her peers, and that included the other Marauders. Her talents were limitless, her star bright. Her ability with Charms was exceptional. She was a Charms Mistress... in all but name. The Ministry of Magic refused to grant her a mastery, since she was Muggleborn. They believed, and still do to this day, that Muggleborns shouldn't be granted masteries. Only those of 'worthy blood' are granted the title. Since I'm a half-blood, like yourself, I was able to gain my Potions mastery."
Remus sighed. "I remember it well. Lily was devastated. She'd developed a whole new series of animation charms, far more efficient and powerful than anything currently on the books. And she wasn't allowed to register them. She was told that she could apprentice herself to a suitable master, and have him publish them as his work. They even suggested a 'suitable' master for her... Augustus LeStrange. She refused."
"At the time, I was furious. I believed that Voldemort and his Death Eaters offered a new way of doing things. A world where bigotry, intolerance and racism wouldn't exist. A world of merit and accomplishment. I had the Dark Mark for three months when I realised what the truth was."
"That's when you went to Dumbledore." Hermione concluded. "And he protected you." She cocked her head slightly. "Does that explain why he's been standing just behind me and to my right for the last nine minutes?"
Harry smiled at her. "No. I think he's testing our detection skills. And it's actually nine and a half. Good evening, Headmaster."
With a chuckle, Dumbledore faded into view. "My apologies, Harry, Hermione. I was hoping to witness your Patronus lessons." He nodded to Harry, in the formal duelling style used to acknowledge a point. "And to test your detection skills. Very well done."
"Thank you, sir." Harry and Hermione replied in unison.
"I, too, remember Lily's... unhappiness with the Ministry. It was I that sponsored her Mastery application in the first place. I was... displeased with the Department of Magical Education, and I certainly made them aware of that fact. Unfortunately, they blocked every attempt, stating that I, as a Master of Transfiguration and Alchemy, was not qualified to judge a Charms mistress. I took Filius along, but they refused his pleas, because of his parentage." He shook his head. "I only wish there was more I could have done."
"You tried, sir." Harry said firmly. "From what I've seen of the Wizarding world, it seems rife with corruption. The people with the money want to make sure they hang on to their power, and they'll step all over the 'little people' to do it. Even you, sir, as powerful and respected as you are, can't hope to fight the system."
Hermione took Harry's hand, squeezing tenderly. "One day, Harry..." She said softly. "One day."
Harry cleared his throat, squeezing Hermione's hand firmly, before letting go, and pulling his wand. "So... Patronus charms."
"Myself and Hermione quickly picked up on the Patronus spell, managing to create a thin mist on our very first attempt. At Professor Snape's prompting, we began kissing while holding up our wands, and we produced a very thick mist.
"By the end of that first lesson, we were well on the way to mastering the charm. It only took us three or four weeks before we managed to get it down. I gained Prongs, while Hermione picked up her Playful Patronus Otter, which Remus imaginatively called... Potter."
In the mirror, Remus shrugged. "Hey, it seemed funny to me and Severus."
"Yes..." Harry drawled. "The most interesting meeting about that year, which nobody knows about, was the day that Sirius Black broke into Gryffindor tower. What people 'know' is that Ron woke up and saw him. What actually happened was this..."
Flashback: Third Year Boys' Dormitory, Gryffindor Tower, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Saturday, 12th February, 1994
Harry was enjoying snuggling in his bed with Hermione. It didn't matter how often he did this; it was warm and comfortable. Harry's definition of 'home' involved snuggling with Hermione, and her definition was certainly a match to his.
He was beginning to drift off, when the door to the dormitory creaked open. Instantly, his eyes widened, as his wand flew to his hand. Hermione was also instantly awake, pulling her wand. Both of them kept themselves armed at all times, with the rumours of Sirius Black out to kill Harry.
Hermione held up her invisibility cloak, making a circling motion with her finger. Harry nodded, then pointed to the near-wall side of the bed. She pulled the cloak on and slipped out of the side. Harry waited a moment for her to get into position, before he slipped out of the curtains.
It only took a second to locate the intruder; a tall man, clad in black robes stood over Weasley's bed. Both Harry and Hermione could smell the filth that covered the robes, and could almost feel the small vermin that infested him. They waited for a few moments, wondering why a rabid killer was standing in the middle of his crime scene. Harry raised a finger and made a shooting motion. In perfect synchronisation, the teens raised their wands, one visible, the other invisible, and stunned the figure. He slumped backwards, landing quietly on the floor.
Hermione pulled off the cloak, kneeling down and turning the figure over. "Sirius Black." She looked up at Harry. "Just how stupid is he to walk into a school that knows he's coming?"
Shaking he head, Harry looked at Ron's bed. "That's not the question I want to ask. Why did he spend so long at Ron's bed? He never sleeps with his curtains closed, more's the pity, so a single glance would tell him that it wasn't me."
"Also valid." Hermione admitted. "Then again, the whole situation seems a bit fishy to me. Let's take him to Dumbledore. Maybe get Lupin there, too. He knew Black while he was at school. Maybe Professor Snape. He'll be able to dose him with a little Veritaserum."
Hermione draped her cloak over Sirius, while Harry grabbed his. "Come on, then." He muttered. "Let's go and make some trouble." Levitating Sirius, the tow headed out of the door, leaving four Gryffindors, completely unaware that anything had happened.
Avoiding Filch and Mrs. Norris on the stairs (and they'd had years of practice at said endeavour), the two had an uneventful trip down to the Headmaster's office. It seemed that Dumbledore never slept, since he was sitting at his desk. His only concession to the hour was a lack of hat, and a lit pipe on his desk.
"Ah, good evening." Dumbledore said, watching two of his favourite students calmly, but oddly carefully, make their way into his office. "And what can I do for you two at this late hour?"
Hermione pulled the invisibility cloak off the floating Sirius Black. "We found this in our dorm room, sir."
Dumbledore nodded, his eyes locked on the figure. "I shall pretend that Harry found Mr. Black in his dorm, Miss Granger, for obvious reasons."
"Of course, sir."
"I appreciate you bringing him here." Dumbledore said with a frown. "I will confess to having a few questions for Mr. Black." He looked at Harry and Hermione. "Might I suggest that the two of you head back to bed? Such a thing is surely not for your ears." He gave them a 'significant look'.
"Of course you may suggest it, Headmaster." Harry said, neither him nor Hermione moving a muscle.
"Excellent." Dumbledore said. "Now that the formalities are out of the way, I shall ask one of the House Elves to wake Professors Lupin, McGonagall and Snape. Perhaps we shall uncover the truth of the situation."
In short order, the three teachers had arrived. Remus was clad in a pair of sweat pants and a plain t-shirt, with an expression of infuriated anger on his face. His wand was in hand as he stared at his former friend. "Oh, we shall have words..." He hissed.
McGonagall was in her nightclothes, with a tartan dressing gown firmly tied shut. Her concession to the lateness was that her hair was out of it's normally tight bun. She, too, carried her wand, and a look of anger.
Completing the group was Severus Snape, clad in his normal black robes. Harry looked him over, spotting a flash of white. "Er, sir?" Harry asked.
"Yes?"
"Er... you're flying low, sir."
After zipping up, they all turned to Dumbledore. "Severus, would you be good enough to add three drops of Veritaserum to Mr. Black's mouth? Remus, would you put him in that chair?"
Remus hauled Black to his feet, near-throwing him into the hard wooden chair, before flicking his wand, sending a stream of thick, sturdy ropes at his former friend. Snape, leaned forward, gently pushing down on Black's chin, and letting three drops of Veritaserum fall onto his tongue.
"We'll need to wait a few moments for it to take effect." Snape said, stepping backwards, and resting on the corner of Dumbledore's desk.
Dumbledore clicked his fingers sharply, making a circling motion. Harry and Hermione picked up on the cue, moving behind the bound prisoner, so they wouldn't be seen, but could still hear everything. "And now... we shall get our answers."
Sirius began stirring slowly, the Veritaserum making him lethargic.
"What is your name?" Dumbledore's voice demanded sharply.
"Sirius Orion Black."
"What is your date of birth?"
"March 21st, 1960."
"Why did you betray James and Lily Potter?"
"I didn't."
"How could that be?"
"I was not the Secret-Keeper for Godric's Hollow."
"Then who was?"
"Peter Pettigrew."
"And you killed him."
Sirius didn't answer; it was not a direct question.
"Why did the Potters make everyone believe that you were the Secret-Keeper, if it was in fact Peter?"
"It was a piece of misdirection; since I was also going into hiding, it was believed that Voldemort's forces would come after me, rather than Peter."
"Ah..." Dumbledore nodded. "What happened with Peter Pettigrew on November 1st, 1981?"
"I found Peter in Birmingham, his home town. When I went to confront him, he already had his wand drawn, behind his back. He shouted loudly 'How could you? How could you betray James and Lily?' Before I could draw my wand, he'd sent a Bombarda hex at the street, detonating the gas main. With a manic grin, he cut off his finger and transformed into Wormtail, escaping into the sewers."
Remus nodded slowly. "Why didn't you tell anyone this?"
"I was stunned by the first Auror on the scene." Sirius droned. "When I woke up, I was in Azkaban. The guards told me that my wand was snapped, and that Crouch had ordered a life-sentence."
"Why did you break out of Azkaban?" Dumbledore asked, looking intently at Harry over Sirius' head.
"He's here. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for."
"Who do you want to kill?"
"Pettigrew. He's here. He's the pet of the Weasley boy."
Harry's eyes widened, as he mouthed 'Scabbers?' to Dumbledore. The old man nodded slowly, clearly wondering how the hell they'd all missed a hiding Dark wizard. "How do you know that he's here?"
"When Fudge last came to visit the prison, he gave me his copy of the Daily Prophet. The article on the front page was about the Weasleys winning the Grand Prize draw. There was a picture, with Wormtail sitting on the boy's shoulder."
"Do you still have that article?" Dumbledore asked.
"It's in my pocket."
Remus flicked his wand, sending an Accio at Sirius. A battered piece of newspaper flew through the air. Remus quickly looked at the photograph, snarling slightly. "It's possible..." He looked up at Dumbledore. "The rat in the picture appears to be missing a toe. If Peter cut off his finger..."
Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Sirius, what are you intentions towards Harry Potter?"
"He's my godson. I want to protect him, and getting rid of the rat would certainly do so."
Harry made a quick decision, and stepped round Sirius' chair, stopping in front of the bound man. "What are you planning to do?"
"Find the rat and kill him."
Thinking back over the activities of the last few months, Harry asked another question. "Did you arrange to send the Firebolt broom to me for Christmas?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I owe you 13 years of birthday and Christmas presents. It seemed like a good start, after your Nimbus was destroyed by the Whomping Willow."
Hermione stepped forward. "Sir, why didn't Black get a trial?"
Dumbledore looked old. "Millicent Bagnold, the Minister at the time, decided that there was no need for a trial. I tried... Merlin knows, I tried to get a trial. I, too, wanted to know the truth of the matter. At the time, however, I believed that Sirius could be guilty of his crimes. I wanted to know why he'd done what he'd done. Unfortunately, the guards at Azkaban were instructed to never let anyone visit him."
"Couldn't you have overridden that, sir?" Hermione asked.
"Again, Miss Granger, I tried. I went through all the channels available, constantly bringing it up in the Wizengamot. Each and every time, I was rebuffed. I brought it up in open session, I raised it on the schedule, I even tried submitting an international request. None of it was allowed to pass. People were just too focussed on the temporary defeat of Voldemort to bother with someone like Sirius." He looked at the bound man. "For that, Sirius, I am truly sorry."
"So... where do we go from here?" Snape asked slowly.
"Find the rat, get the truth." Sirius said.
"And how do we do that?" Hermione asked Sirius.
"I need to get hold of the map from Filch." Sirius said. "Because Wormtail was one of the creators, it will always track him, even in his Animagus form."
"The map!" Remus said, smacking his forehead. "Of course... Albus, we need to get Filch up-"
"Er..." Harry interrupted, reaching into his pocket. "You mean this?" In his hands was a battered piece of parchment.
"I'm not going to ask how you got that, Harry." Remus said, taking the map, and placing it on Dumbledore's desk.
"Wait a moment." Snape said, jabbing his wand onto the parchment. "I, Professor Severus Snape, master of this school, command you to yield the information you conceal."
Harry watched the parchment as writing began to appear. Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business. Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git. Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor. Mr. Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball. (1)
Snape looked up at Lupin, a grin on his face. "You never cleared the anti-Snape insults from the program, then?"
Lupin looked a little abashed. "Er... not until the second version, Severus, no."
Snape just shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Remus." He tapped his wand on the parchment twice, clearing the insults, before intoning, "We solemnly swear that we are up to no good."
The map quickly began to fill in, displaying all the people at Hogwarts. Snape quickly turned the map round, searching in on Gryffindor tower. He spotted Ron Weasley, Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas and Neville Longbottom, but there was no Peter Pettigrew.
"He must have run as soon as he spotted us levitating Sirius away." Harry said. "Professor Lupin, is there anyway to highlight him?"
Remus tapped his wand onto the map. "Mr. Moony requests location of Mr. Wormtail." It took a moment, before the map began flashing. "He's on the third floor."
"The passage to Honeydukes!" Harry said quickly. "The one-eyed witch passage!" He turned to Dumbledore, "Professor, he-"
Dumbledore had pulled what appeared to be a stone tablet from his desk drawer, and was tapping out a sequence with his wand. "I have now sealed all seven passages to Hogsmeade." He said brusquely, tapping out another sequence. "And have locked the wards. Nothing can physically pass in or out of the school grounds."
They watched as on the map, the dot marked 'Peter Pettigrew' dithered outside of the statue for a few moments, before turning, and running along the corridor. After a moment, the dot blinked and disappeared.
"Damn..." Lupin muttered. "Didn't get the disillusionment problem sorted until the second version."
"So, Peter will be somewhere on the grounds." Harry concluded. "How will we track him if he goes into the Forest? As a rat, he's too small to locate easily."
"As a rat, he'll be eaten in the Forest." McGonagall pointed out, speaking for the first time. "And unfortunately, by the time we get to the third floor, his scent will have dissipated too much for me to track him." She sighed at Remus. "It's a shame we can't use that nose of yours, Remus."
Snape cleared his throat. "I may have an alternative."
"Oh?" Dumbledore looked up.
"Well... Black's Animagus form is a dog, which we all know has superior nasal capabilities compared to a human. Why don't we simply allow him to search the grounds while we monitor the school."
Dumbledore nodded slowly. "That is a good plan, Severus. We shall have to make certain the Dementors do not locate him."
Harry turned to Sirius. "How did you escape from Azkaban?"
During the chat and map hunt, Sirius had been sitting quietly, waiting for the next question. "Dementors can't actually see people, only sense their emotions. Since Padfoot's emotions are more primal than my own, they believed that I was like everyone else. When they came to feed me, I slipped out, and managed to squeeze through the bars. I swam back to the mainland, and headed to the Forbidden Forest, where I've been staying. Apart from coming to watch the Quidditch games."
Dumbledore again nodded. "So, the Dementors are unable to locate... Padfoot, I believe you called your Animagus form? Would you be willing to search the grounds as Padfoot for Pettigrew?"
"Yes."
"And when you find him, bring him to me, without killing him."
There was a pause, as Sirius warred with his baser emotions. "Yes." He said sulkily.
"Good." Dumbledore said. "I will arrange for one of the house elves to leave food, clothing and medical supplies for you near the old tool shed, at the edge of the Forest daily. If you need anything, the elf will be able to provide it for you."
"Thank you." Sirius said.
"Severus, would you administer the Veritaserum counter-agent, please."
After the three drops of black liquid were poured onto Sirius' tongue, he began to blink rapidly, as he realised that he wasn't where he'd been. He saw Lupin, McGonagall, Snape, Dumbledore and Harry stood staring at him. "Er... hello?"
"Hello... Padfoot." Harry said slowly.
"James... no... Harry! Sweet Merlin..."
"I know." Lupin said. "Looks just like James in third year, doesn't he?"
"Moony? Oh, Moony, I'm so sorry!"
Lupin flicked his wand, cancelling the ropes, before he wrapped Sirius in a tight hug. "It's good to see you, Padfoot. Even better to think you aren't a traitor."
Sirius pulled back, looking at Harry. "It's good to see you, Harry."
Harry held out his hand. "You too." When Sirius took the hand, Harry pulled him into a brief hug. Sirius squeezed tightly, letting a tear drop out of his eye.
When they pulled apart, McGonagall rapped Sirius on the back of his head. "Foolish boy!" she hissed. "Strategy was never your thing, was it?" With a squeak, McGonagall pulled him into a hug, before pulling back, wrinkling her nose. "You need a bath, Black. Your odour is less than pleasant."
Sirius looked down at himself. "You try spending a decade in Azkaban, with only limited water, and see what it does to your hygiene."
Snape stepped forward. "Mutt."
"Bat." Sirius said, holding out his hand and grinning warmly. "Damn, Severus, it's good to see you, too." After shaking hands, the two men stepped back.
"So, I'm going hunting." Sirius said slowly.
"Not straight away." Dumbledore said. "First, you shall bathe, enjoy a hot meal, a good night's sleep and some fresh clothing. In the morning, I will arrange to take my newly acquired pet dog for a walk on the grounds. Then, we shall start searching for Pettigrew. Also, I would like for you to arrange some time on Sundays to spend with Harry. It has become a weekly appointment with staff members for Harry to hear tales and anecdotes about his parents. I'm certain you could contribute some... entertaining tales."
Sirius grinned. "Oh, I could think of a few..."
Harry took another sip of water. "So, we knew Pettigrew was in the castle, Sirius was innocent of the crimes he'd been accused of and we sent him out to hunt for Wormtail. A couple of times, Pettigrew snuck back into the castle, trying to get hold of a wand, presumably so the little shit could either try and apparate or make a Portkey, or even make a small hole in the wards to escape from.
"Ron was... convinced, that the encounter with Sirius Black had happened differently, that he'd woken up and scared him off. When Professor McGonagall came to investigate, she asked questions about who'd left passwords around. Neville got a bollocking, as well as a Hogsmeade ban, but that ban was only for one visit. Ron believed that Scabbers had been eaten by Crookshanks, and began to ostracise Hermione bitterly. I pretty much ignored his rant, because I knew the truth. Now that we knew Scabbers was Pettigrew, Crooks' actions made a lot more sense. He was after Pettigrew, too."
"Naturally," Hermione took up the tale, "we didn't want to allow Wormtail to get away. We both knew that Pettigrew, while a coward, had far too much intelligence about us to be allowed to escape. We kept a firm eye on the Marauders' Map, hoping to spot him if he returned to the castle.
"But, that wasn't the only thing myself and Hermione had to worry about, although it was certainly quite... quite important. We also had to deal with Malfoy and Buckbeak, as well as a twelve-class course load, not to mention our advance training.
"In mid-May, Pettigrew managed to sneak back into the castle, making it as far as the Gryffindor common room before Crookshanks scared the little bastard off. We later found out that it was to steal Ron's wand, since that was the most compatible wand he'd had, and in his weakened state, he needed all the help he could get."
Ron stood up, gesticulating wildly with his hands. A sigh on his lips, Harry flicked his wand, cancelling the silencing charm. "Right, don't do that again, Potter!" Ron snapped. "How dare you hex me?"
"You have a question, Weasley?" Harry asked in a bored tone.
"Yeah, I do. I know this is all lies, because you didn't speak to Hermione for nearly a month after Crookshanks tried to eat Scabbers."
Above Harry and Hermione's heads, the message flashed yet again. Harry cleared his throat. "Perhaps not that you saw, Weasley, but that doesn't mean it didn't happen. Both Hermione and myself communicated in several meaningful ways while we were bunking together, not to mention that we were in classes that you weren't, thanks to our time-turning."
"Things came to a head at the end of May. We'd just completed our end of year exams, Harry taking all twelve, while I took eleven, since I thought Divination was... well, shite, to be honest." Hermione admitted softly.
"Hey, I enjoyed Divination." Harry added with a grin. "It was a laugh. And it was always funny watching Parvati and Lavender drooling over Trelawney whenever she opened her mouth, as though she'd reveal the secrets of the universe." He chuckled for a moment, before turning serious. "What's not commonly known is that Sybil Trelawney is actually a prophet, but not a seer. She's qualified to teach the basics of Divination, such as reading palms and tea leaves, but she's not actually capable of doing it herself. She gave a prophecy, stating that Wormtail would escape and set off to the Dark Lord."
"Ever since the end of our first year, we knew that genuine prophecy was real, and that there are two kinds of prophecy. One, like Trelawney's, states that something will happen. It's unavoidable. She's not making a prediction, she's stating future fact. The other kind of prophecy states that something may happen, and that allows people some wiggle room." Hermione lectured politely. "Harry immediately shared that prophecy with me, and we set off to Dumbledore. He called in Remus, Severus and Minerva, and we explained everything."
Harry sighed. "Later that afternoon, we got a letter from Hagrid, stating that Buckbeak had lost his appeal, and was going to be executed at sunset. We went down to Hagrid's cabin to console him, and found Scabbers cowering in a milk jug. We tried to bring him back to the castle, when a huge black dog pounced on Ron, and dragged him underneath the Whomping Willow, breaking his leg.
"Remus came into the cabin, 'confronting' Sirius, and forcing Wormtail to change back to Pettigrew. Most of the 'confrontation' was staged, since we had people around we didn't want to know about it. When Severus came in, he was playing the role of the baddie, threatening Sirius, Remus and us. He was hamming up his role as a true Death Eater.
"As we were leading Sirius and Pettigrew out, Remus began to transform, thanks to the full moon. Sirius held him off while we ran. After an encounter with the Dementors, I woke up in the hospital wing, overhearing Fudge say that Sirius had been captured, and Snape was due for a medal.
"Professor Dumbledore sent the others away, and told us that we needed more time, pointing out that we could use our time-turners to go back, change things. Before we could go, however, Severus came into the hospital wing..."
Flashback: Hospital Wing, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Friday, 25th May, 1994 - 23:53
Snape quickly glanced around, making sure to see that he was quite alone, before he sat on Harry's bed. "I have little time, Harry, Hermione, so I must speak quickly. Earlier this evening, I received a most enlightening visit from the two of you. A visit you have yet to make. I know that you're about to turn time. Immediately seek me out. I shall be in Remus' office. Explain the situation to the two of us. Tell our past selves about the incident at the Shack."
"Sir?" Hermione asked softly.
"No time, Hermione." Snape said brusquely. "This has already happened for me. I know that Sirius has now escaped. You must follow this plan; travel back in time four hours, not three, as the Headmaster suggested. Use your invisibility cloak to head to Remus' office. Tell my past self and Remus that we must head to the Shrieking Shack, Remus at 21:04, and myself at 21:19. Explain that Pettigrew is there, and that he will escape. Moony's transformation will give him the slip he needs."
"There's no way to stop it?" Harry asked sadly.
"It's already happened, Harry." Snape said, not unkindly. "After explaining this to both of us, you must head to Hagrid's hut. When your past selves have sneaked out of the side door, untie Buckbeak and lead him into the forest. Then make your way over to the Whomping Willow. When Moony transforms, and Wormtail escapes, head for the beach on the eastern side of the lake. You'll need to use your Patroni to get rid of the Dementors. Then head back here as quickly as possible."
"Wait..." Hermione said. "This is moving too fast."
"Again, time, Hermione." Snape said. "Explain what has happened tonight to my past self, go to Hagrid's, rescue Buckbeak, head to the Willow, then fly on Buckbeak up to Filius' office. Sirius will be able to escape." He looked intently. "Have you got it?"
Harry nodded. "Yes, sir. It's a good plan."
Snape grinned. "It should be... you two came up with it. Now, four turns, and off you go. Be back here at midnight." He stood, and headed for the door, where Dumbledore was waiting.
"Well, Severus?"
"They're on their way, Albus." Snape replied softly. "They'll go back to approximately eight o'clock, and come and warn the younger me and Remus, who, by the way, has already taken his Wolfsbane potion. They'll go to Hagrid's, only to flee when the Ministry executioner arrives. On their way back to school, the Weasley brat will be attacked by Black, who can smell Pettigrew."
"Ah, yes. The canine nose."
"Yes. He drags the boy under the Willow to the Shack, where Remus turns up, miraculously, who just happened to be looking at the Marauders' Map in his office. Since we have Trelawney's prophecy, we know that Pettigrew will escape. I'll be able to maintain my cover with the Death Eaters, since I'm displaying my obvious hatred towards 'light' wizards. Wormtail will escape, Remus transforms, and the Dementors attack. The time-travelling Harry and Hermione-"
"Drove them all away." Harry's proud voice came from behind the two men. They span round, seeing a slightly more battered and bruised Harry stood there, his hand clutched tightly in Hermione's. "Mission accomplished, Professor. They're both gone."
"Excellent." Snape said. "Now, I must go and cause a scene with Fudge, in order to distract the bumbling arsehole from arranging an immediate search. You two need some chocolate, and some sleep. In that order."
Snape scurried away, while Dumbledore opened the door to the hospital wing. "Madam Pomfrey will take care of you. You've done a fine job this evening."
"Thank you, sir." Hermione said. "But, I'm knackered."
"Off you go. I'm sure Severus will be providing some entertainment for you to enjoy before you sleep." Dumbledore winked at the pair, before closing the door and flicking his wand at it.
Inside the ward, Harry took off his shoes, wincing as he smelt sweaty socks. He looked over at Hermione, who, on her own bed, mirrored his actions. "I really need a shower." He muttered.
"Me, too. Running around for nearly eight hours in the middle of summer will do that to you." She replied, then looked up at him with a grin. "I really need one. When we were flying, and I had my arms round you, I came so hard... definitely need clean underwear."
Harry grinned at her, blushing slightly.
"Still, kip and shower in the morning." She winked at him. "I do hope you'll be joining me."
"I'd be honoured, miss." Harry replied grandly. He cocked his head as he heard several angry voices, and one man shouting.
"Potter!"
"We helped Sirius Black to escape, and saved an innocent hippogriff from execution." Harry concluded. "Not bad for four hours work." He looked over at Percy, who was scribbling notes like mad. "I will, however, make several observations, Minion Weatherby; first, Sirius Black never received a trial, and as such, was not a criminal. Second, Lucius Malfoy paid off the panel for Buckbeak's hearing, so that doesn't count either."
"We'd done good work." Hermione said. "We found out from our exam results that we were, again, the best in our year. Both of us were able to keep up with the strain of a full course load, not to mention our extra training. The two of us decided that we'd continue with our current schedule.
"Remus decided that he'd leave Hogwarts; it seemed that a certain Malfoy had found out about his Lycanthropy, and blabbed it to the whole school. Everyone believed that it was Snape who grassed him up, but we knew the truth. Before Remus left, though, he told us about a set of enchanted mirrors that the Marauders used to use during their detentions." Hermione gestured to the communications mirror, where Remus and Tonks were listening patiently.
"Remus told us how to create them, and we did, later that summer, including one for him, and one for Sirius. Instead of carrying around an oversized mirror, we incorporated them into watches; smaller and far more convenient." She held up her arm, showing her battered watch. Tapping it, the face flipped up, showing a small mirror. "We now had a secure way to communicate with Sirius and Remus, not to mention each other during the holidays."
"These watches were so useful." Harry added. "We could Portkey to safety with them, and could communicate with the other people in our little... group. After a rough year, things were looking up. We had a full summer ahead of us, plenty of time to learn new things.
"But... neither of us knew what was coming. A year of trials and tribulations that would make our first three years look like nursery school. A year of combat, of betrayal, of arrogance and death and resurrection."
Hermione sighed, looking at the crowd. "I think this is a good time to take a short break. We've been talking for three hours, and I need to go and fluff my Garfield (2). Excuse us." The two disappeared off the stage, letting the crowd talk amongst themselves for a few moments.
The events of the 1994-1995 school year were among some of the most discussed events of the century, and none of them wanted to miss what would turn out to be a thrilling tale. The fact that there was more to the story... only served to entice them further.
(1) These are the insults from the Marauders' Map in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.
(2) This was actually a skit on the American version of "Whose Line Is It Anyway?" You can probably work out what the subtle meaning actually it. (If not... there's not a lot of hope for you, so I shall tell you. It means to go for a short bathroom break – a number 1, not a number 2)