Yes, They're Seriously Back!

By: marauderette-47

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its characters. Am I JK Rowling? No? Then I don't own it:)

A/N: Here's the next chapter! I hope you guys like it! It was fun to write:) Things will probably be getting slowly lighter as the story progresses - sorry to make you guys sad! But I hope you like this anyway:) And sorry it's so short! I tried to add as much to it as I could, but I really wanted to cut it off at a cliffy! Sorry! Enjoy!


Chapter Four: Firewhiskey

"Professor, please -" Remus began again, but Dumbledore cut him off. Again.

"Remus," Dumbledore said softly. "I think that you're upset over our loss of Sirius. Think rationally, my friend. Do you truly believe that he is back from the dead?"

"Yes!" Remus panted. "Professor, I saw him! We had a drink together-"

"Then perhaps it was just a drunken hallucination," Dumbledore said thoughtfully.

"No, no, no!" Remus shouted, frustrated. "Professor, he was at Grimmauld Place with me!"

"Grimmauld Place, you say?" Dumbledore asked sadly. Remus nodded. "Then Remus," Dumbledore continued. "Perhaps it was just being in that house. It held so many emotions and memories, that it ignited a mirage of someone whom you cared about that is now dead. Remus, there is no spell that can bring the dead back from the grave. This is what I would do if I were you: I would go home. Home. And do something productive. Listen to some music. Read a book. Get your mind off things. If Sirius is still, er, there after all of that, then come see Madame Pomphrey. She'll give you something to help-"

"No Albus," Remus said. "Sirius is alive. I don't need anything."

"If he is alive," Dumbledore began. "Then where is he?"

"I told you!" Remus huffed. "We were coming up here to speak with you, but Padfoot saw Ron and chased after him in his dog form. He wanted to see Harry."

"Ah, that is another point," Dumbledore said calmly. "Harry is rather…delicate, at the moment. He's just been given a lot of information and no time to deal with it. It would be a great help to me, Remus, if you did not mention 'Sirius' to Harry whatsoever. Not unless I give you the 'okay' that he is back. The last thing we need is for poor Harry to get his heart broken again."

"I'm not giving up on this, Professor." Remus warned sternly. "Sirius is back."

"Remus," Dumbledore sighed again. "You need to accept Sirius's death. Just like you had to accept the death of James and Lily."

"No," Remus smirked sourly, shaking his head. "No, I still haven't accepted that, Sir. Maybe you don't remember James like I do, but that boy did not appreciate being told what to do or when to do it. I still wake up sometimes hoping that he found some crazy way to come back to life. I don't think he was ready to die, Dumbledore, and I think that the same applied to Sirius. But I can see that we're getting nowhere. I'll grab my old oaf of a friend and get out of here. Thank you for your time, Sir."

As Remus left Dumbledore's office and began to stalk through Hogwarts looking for Sirius, he began to wonder if maybe he really was going mental. But no, he'd seen Sirius…hadn't he?


"I think we missed our stop," Harry said quietly. He, James, and Lily were lying on beds on the top floor of the Knight Bus. They'd decided that after everything that had happened, they all needed some sleep. They hadn't known what they were going to do next, but they weren't going to be separated.

"There's no need to go to Petunia's now, dear." Lily assured her son in that quiet, soothing voice of hers. "I don't, however, know where we're going. James?"

James had been very quiet over the last hour. He'd been crying silently, not that he let his wife and son see that bit. He was devastated over everything that had happened – his old friend had betrayed his whole family, his best friend had just so recently died, and his son had had to grow up without a family that loved him.

"We could go to Potter Manor," James said in a hoarse voice.

"Has school let out yet, darling?" Lily asked Harry, throwing a concerned glance towards James.

"Nearly," Harry said slowly. "But I don't mind missing the feast. I don't feel much like eating anyways. And I'll write my friends to let them know where it is I am."

"Alright," Lily sighed. "Do you think the House Elves are still there, James?"

"They should be," James shrugged indifferently. "We never freed them. They should be up keeping it, as well. It should be fit for human habitation."

A pang of pain stabbed Harry in the chest as he heard his father's words. They'd sounded so similar to Sirius's not long ago at all…

"Making this place fit for human habitation…"

"What's Potter Manor?" Harry asked, trying to get his mind off of his godfather.

Lily smiled. "It was your father's house growing up. I've only been there a few times, but it was huge! You'll have your own room, your own bathroom, Merlin, maybe even your own kitchen! After Mr. and Mrs. Potter passed away, James inherited the place, and instructed its House Elves to keep it in good condition in case he ever wanted to move back there. It's quite a nice place."

And quite different from the cupboard under the stairs, Harry thought, smiling inwardly. If someone had told him when he was, say, ten that all of this would be happening to him, he'd have asked you if you were mental. But this was truly happening, and Harry couldn't have been happier.

Unless, perhaps, Sirius was part of the picture.

Harry's thoughts kept trailing back to Sirius. And, in a strange way, having his parents back made it a little worse in some ways. Sirius Black's best friends, whom he would have died for and missed like crazy – were alive again, and Sirius couldn't even see them. And Harry still believed that the whole thing was truly all his fault.

"Everything I love dies…" Harry mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Alright, what's wrong?" Lily snapped at her son.

"What?" Harry asked, wrinkling his eyebrows in confusion.

"James always does that when he's upset – you know, rubs the back of his neck. So what's wrong?" Lily asked, her tone softening a bit. She went to the bed at which her son was seated, and put her arm around him. Harry let his head fall on his mother's shoulders, and inhaled her lilac scent. The scent was vaguely familiar, and triggered a long forgotten memory, a memory that gave Harry comfort and love – two things he hadn't felt in such a long time.

"It's Sirius," Harry whispered. He didn't want his father to hear him – he knew that if James cared about Sirius half as much as Harry guessed Sirius had cared about James, then James was probably curled in a ball on his bed crying at the moment. And Harry didn't want to make his father's pain any worse. Though he had technically just met him, Harry loved his father, and didn't want to pain him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lily asked softly. "Or are you more like James? Do you just want to grieve in silence?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted reluctantly. "I wish I could just take it back. Make it like it never happened. It's just not fair! All he wanted was to see the both of you again, and he can't! You're back, and he can't! And it's my entire fault!" Harry had never been so open with his emotions before, but he held nothing back now. It was mostly because he found it quite easy to admit things to his mother. He'd never known what a mother was really supposed to be like. His Aunt Petunia had never really treated him with love, and Mrs. Weasley always smothered him, and never treated him like she did her own sons. It was a strange and extraordinary experience to know what his mother was really like.

"Harry," James said suddenly, sitting up and coming to sit by his wife and son. Harry and Lily politely ignored James's red-rimmed eyes and puffy nose. "You listen to me now. Sirius's death was absolutely and completely not your fault. At all. Padfoot was always the rash one. Never thought things through before he just jumped into them. If he went to the Ministry to protect you when he wasn't supposed to even leave Headquarters, then that proves one thing; he loved you. And he would've died for you. He died to make sure that you lived. And he wouldn't want you to live in regret."

James sighed, and rubbed the back of his neck just like Harry had a few minutes before. "I'm going to go downstairs and tell Ernie where to drop us off at. I'll be back later."

James got up from the bed, and took the steps that led to the first floor of the bus slowly, and Lily sighed sadly. "He's hurting." She murmured.

"He does a good job of hiding it." Harry noted.

"Are you like him, in that way?" Lily wondered.

Harry shrugged. "People usually can't tell if I'm upset unless they know me really well."

"Like James, then." Lily confirmed. "He missed you Harry, I can tell. And he's beating himself up over Sirius, I can tell that, too. This is all so messed up!"

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "It is."

Meanwhile, James was sitting on the first floor of the Knight Bus, on a bed in the very back. After speaking with Ernie, he quickly made the realization that himself and his family were the only ones on the bus. So he didn't feel bad at all about conjuring up a small flask of Firewhiskey and drinking his troubles away.

"I don't drink that much," James mumbled to himself as he took another sip. And it was true; in fact, James hardly ever drank. Just when he was really torn up about something. He remembered one time, himself and Sirius had gotten buzzed at the Three Broomsticks after Lily had hexed him for asking her out for the thousandth time.

"You'd be surprised, Prongs," Sirius had laughed after his second shot of Firewhiskey. "Firewhiskey does wonders when the 'females' are exceptionally difficult to deal with and, in moderation, it can really zone you out."

"When do you ever do anything in moderation?" James had chortled.

"Touché," Sirius had muttered, ordering another shot and winking at Madame Rosmerta as she handed him the drink.

"I'm sorry Harry," James mumbled to himself, taking another drink. "I always only wanted the best for you."

Suddenly, the Knight Bus came to a stop, and let another man on…


Sirius was grumbling to himself as he walked down Magnolia Crescent. Of course, it was just his luck that Harry wasn't home. He walked about a mile before he remembered that he was a Wizard, and he used his wand to summon the Knight Bus. He didn't really need to take it, but it would be funny to see the expression on peoples' faces if the 'supposedly dead' Sirius Black hopped on board.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard," the teenage conductor said as he got off the enormous bus. "My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor for this evening." He dropped the 'formal' act almost as soon as he was done reading his prompt card, and looked up at Sirius.

"Where you headed?" he asked.

"Number 12, Grimmauld Place." Sirius said with disdain; oh, how he hated his home.

"And what's your name?" Stan asked.

"I'm known by many names." Sirius sighed dramatically, clutching his heart. "Padfoot, Snuffles…but you, Stan Shunpike, can call me Sirius Black!"

"But- but your dead! And a murderer! You're not getting' on this bus, you're not!" Stan said, going paler than Sirius had ever seen anyone go before.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I say Sirius Black?" Sirius mused amusedly. "I meant Remus Lupin."

"Oh, phew!" Stan said, wiping sweat off his brow. "Choo had me worried there, Remmy! Well, hop aboard!"

Sirius smirked and got on the Knight Bus. He noted that there weren't many people on, just some drunk passed out in the back. Rolling his eyes, Sirius went up the stairs to the top floor of the Knight Bus – when he and James used to ride it, they'd always loved going to the very tippy-top just to be funny and spontaneous.

"Besides," James had told him once. "I don't fancy being on the first floor and able to smell Ernie's breath, do you?"

As Sirius neared the top of the steps, he heard a woman and a boy crying. If there was one thing Sirius wasn't good it, it was consoling people, and he didn't want to be caught in the middle of that. So he silently crept back down to the first floor, and sat in a seat not far from the wizard who was passed out. Sirius wasn't sure that the wizard was unconscious, as he had a hood up over his head, but he was snoring so Sirius just sort of guessed that he was.

"Lucky bloke," he mumbled, noticing the small flask of what was obviously Firewhiskey in the wizard's hand. "Wish I had some of that – but Moony'd probably kill me – stupid werewolf."

The man behind Sirius suddenly snapped his head up, and Sirius wanted to whack himself in the head - he should have been quieter! The drunk probably heard the whole 'werewolf' thing, and was going to report Remus, or Sirius could try his hand at a Memory Charm, even though he'd probably screw it up and kill someone-

"Ignore me," Sirius whispered to the man who was now looking at him strangely. "I...er, I'm mental. I don't know what I'm saying...oh look! A Nargle!"

"What?" the man croaked. "Whasanargle?"

"Nothing, nothing..." Sirius muttered. "Forget it."

"Kay."

"Wait-" the man said, rubbing his eyes and dropping his flask. Sirius was agitated – he was so stupid! He had to be more careful! Now this idiot was going to be all suspicious –

"Yeah?" Sirius asked nonchalantly.

"Y-You said 'Moony'…" the man croaked, a loud and long yawn breaking off the rest of his sentence.

"And?" Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Hang on," the man mumbled. "Lemme do a-a-a Sobering Charm."

"I got it," Sirius said, retrieving his wand and rolling his eyes. This guy reminded him of James – James hardly ever drank, but when he did it was bad, and Sirius was the best at Sobering Charms.

When the man felt slightly better, he looked up at Sirius again, but his 'Thank you' died in his throat. All he found himself able to say was, "Padfoot?"


SO CLOSE! OHMYGOSH! CLIFFHANGER! Lol, I hope you liked it! If you read it, please review! They really and truly inspire me:) Thank you!

-marauderette-47