The Keeper of the Keys and the Keeper of the Secret

"What happened after you and Dumbledore established what had occurred and he performed the blood bonding charm on me?" Harry asked while scouting the ground floor. Besides the kitchen, pantry and dining room, there was one extra room – probably a study – and a guest bathroom. And, of course, the living room, the windows of which faced out to the front yard.

"Dumbledore apparated back to Hogwarts and sent Hagrid for you," Severus responded, sitting down on the wide windowsill of a bay window. "I was to stay with you just until he arrived to make sure you were safe."

Harry opened the door under the stairs. For a moment, he felt transported back to the Dursleys. The room looked familiar. But then again, that would probably be true for all storerooms underneath a stairway. "Why didn't he take me back himself?"

"Because he didn't want the Ministry to become aware of his meddling. No one could know that I had been there either, if my cover was to remain intact. So Dumbledore trotted out the same lie he told Hagrid when he got back to Hogwarts: That he had just received an urgent floo call from Bathilda Bagshot, informing him that there had been an attack on the Potter's house, that the Fidelius had been broken and that she could hear you crying inside. Supposedly, she was too scared to check out for herself what had happened, fearing there might still be Death Eaters in the house."

"So the ministry wizards never even saw me..."

Severus nodded and watched his godson as he closed the door to the storeroom again and looked into the guest bathroom. He wondered what the boy was looking for. This house was just an empty shell. Nothing of what had made it a home remained. It was rather oppressive.

"No. The whole point of this was to keep you out of their hands," confirmed Severus. "Dumbledore didn't want anybody to see you while the traces of sacrificial magic on your body were still so fresh, so he had to hide you at least for the next 24 hours. If this protection was to be your weapon, he wanted it to remain a secret. By telling Hagrid to move you to a safe place, he could claim truthfully that he had no clue about your current whereabouts. He also wanted to prevent you from ending up in Black's custody at all costs."

"Because he believed Sirius to be the traitor and wanted Petunia to take me in so that the Bond of Blood could take hold..." concluded Harry, who was now entering the living room. It was bright and spacious. A huge fireplace had probably been used for Floo-travel and Floo-calls. On its left and right, shelves were mounted into the wall. He could well imagine that they had once been full of books, photo frames and other decorative odds and ends.

"Everything pointed to Sirius being the culprit. Dumbledore had been suspicions of him even before the attack. But Black was also your official guardian, and since Dumbledore had no proof, he feared that the Ministry might accept his guardianship over you. So Dumbledore made sure that old Bathilda supported his version of events, apparated back to Hogwarts and told Hagrid to collect you."

And until he got there, his most hated teacher had been standing guard over his crib... Had he picked Harry up and tried to soothe him? Not by any stretch of the imagination could Harry picture it. How long could it have taken Dumbledore to apparate back to Hogwarts, find Hagrid, explain what had happened and for Hagrid to come here?

"How did Hagrid even get here?" Harry asked, suddenly stumbling over the next mystery concerning the night. "He can't apparate, is far too big to get into any ordinary fire place and too heavy to ride a broom or a Thestral."

"Flying there by conventional means would have taken far too long considering that there was a baby to rescue," Severus replied. "Even Hagrid would have questioned that – he didn't know that someone was watching over you. No, Fawkes brought him here. Phoenixes have magic of their own – their flight is similar to Apparition, and they can carry huge weights. Fawkes often served as means of transport for Hagrid."

Ah – that finally explained how Hagrid had reached Harry and the Dursleys on that island when he had brought the Hogwarts letter. When Harry had asked him, he had indeed claimed to have flown there.

"Fawkes was to carry both of you to a place Hagrid thought safe to hide while Dumbledore made arrangements for you to live with relatives of your mother," Severus elaborated. "Dumbledore just told him to bring you to Little Whinging the next night."

"Do you know where Hagrid took me in the meanwhile?"

"From what Hagrid told us later, to his childhood home. It's also in the Southwest, I think, someplace near the Welsh border."

Harry remembered Hagrid mentioning that he had grown up with the wizard who was his dad, after his giant mother had left her family. The house in which they had lived must have been impressive. To accommodate a giant kid, Hagrid's dad must have placed a substantial number of enlargement charms on it. Unlike all the other wizarding homes Harry had seen – like Grimmauld Place No. 12 and the Burrow – his family's house looked downright ordinary.

"Knowing Hagrid, he put you in a basket with snakes for company, fed you Thestral milk and gave you some rock-cakes to chew on," Severus mused, folding his arms in front of his chest. "He kept telling everybody what a great time you both had. Minerva, who'd been hanging abound in Privet Drive in her cat-form all day before you and Hagrid arrived the following night, said he almost wept when he had to leave you on the Durleys' doorstep."

"Minerva?" asked Harry, who had wandered into the dining room, surprised. It had a nice view across the garden and the fields behind. Right next to it was the kitchen – the only room that was still furnished. It was strange to imagine that his mother had stood at this old stove cooking, or that she had washed the dishes in the sink beneath the window. "What was she doing there?"

"Hagrid had briefly returned to Hogwarts while you were sleeping and asked her for supplies he needed to take care of a toddler. She was one of the first people to hear that your parents had been attacked and that you were the only survivor and would remain in Hagrid's care until the next day, when he was supposed to hand you over to Dumbledore in Little Whinging. Apparently, with all the excitement, she forgot to ask for the exact time of the meeting, which is why she apparated there right after breakfast, after having read the entire story about You-know-who's demise in the Daily Prophet's morning edition. Thus, she had ample time to find out that Petunia and her husband were the most horrible of people."

Well, that couldn't have taken her more than half an hour, Harry thought. Had Petunia ever been to Godric's Hollow? If so, she must have been envious. The house was bigger than that of the Dursleys, and from what he could see, it had a far bigger garden, too. A back door from the kitchen led to it. Harry opened it and stepped outside onto the meadow that had been reclaimed by the wilderness. It might have been a tutored lawn surrounded by flowerbeds a long time ago, flowerbeds that his mother had probably carefully tended to. If she had loved gardening at all. Harry didn't know.

His godfather followed him as he headed further into the garden, pushing through bushes that had overgrown everything. The trees were huge, too. He saw the remains of two strong cords dangling from a sturdy branch. Had his parents attached a baby swing for him here?

They reached the far back of the walled yard, where another gate led onto the lane behind. "Let's go," Harry suggested. "I've seen what I wanted to see."

"Which was what, exactly?"

Harry shrugged. "Just the visuals to sort out what I've seen in memories and heard from other people. It somehow makes it more – palpable. And it's good to have seen in what state the house really is. I need to decide what to do with it."

Severus couldn't imagine that Harry would want to live here. Like Spinner's End for him, this place must be connected with too many negative memories for Harry.

Harry looked over the garden, his expression wistful. "I keep thinking that there should be kids running around in this garden, that there should be a swing and a treehouse to play in. My parents had wanted this to be a happy place, and I don't want the house to remain a memorial. The statue on the church square is bad enough. Maybe I should have it repaired and sell it."

It would be a nice place for a family to live. He surely would have liked to grow up here. Harry let the gate fall shut behind him and turned right on the lane, heading away from the village. He briefly wondered if it was wise to leave the kitchen door open, but then remembered that the front door was damaged, too, and that Muggles wouldn't set foot into the house anyway.

"I wish Sirius hadn't so readily agreed with Dumbledore's decision to give me to the Dursleys..." Harry said, as they resumed walking. "I really would have preferred growing up at Grimmauld Place with him, all protections aside."

"Sirius?" asked Severus, falling in pace beside him. "When did Black ever have the chance to agree or not agree with Dumbledore's plans for you? He was already in Azkaban when you were put on Petunia's doorstep." It had solved the problem regarding Black's guardianship rather nicely. With him out of the picture, there was no one else who could have taken Harry in. Beside himself, of course. But neither he nor Dumbledore had wanted the truth about his godparenthood revealed. And what in Merlin's Name would he have been expected to do with a baby, especially one he could barely abide looking at?

"No, I mean before that," said Harry, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jacket. The house hadn't been warm, but at least they had been out of the wind. "Hagrid met him here when he picked me up. Didn't you know?"

"No," Severus said, puzzled. "I left as soon as Fawkes and Hagrid arrived. But why did Black come here at all?"

"He said that he had gotten a bad feeling when he checked on Pettigrew that evening and didn't find him home. I know from Remus that Peter had claimed to be sick a few days before the attack. So he really should have been home that night."

"He probably had only feigned illness to be left out of order business at the time," Severus suspected. "He must have known that the Dark Lord was about to strike."

"In any case, Sirius got panicky when he found him gone. Since his hiding place had been evacuated without any sign of a fight, he suspected that he was the traitor and immediately rushed to Godric's Hollow. Hagrid said Sirius wanted to take me into his custody, but Hagrid had refused, saying Dumbledore had already made other plans for me. He soon relented and even gave Hagrid his flying motorbike to take me someplace safe."

"He had travelled to Godric's Hollow via motorbike?" Severus asked, frowning. "If he was panicky, why didn't he apparate? Flying would have taken far too long."

"Hm, I don't know where Peter lived, but maybe it wasn't too far away? Or he did apparate and used a shrinking charm on his bike to take it along in his pocket? He did enlarge it at some point anyway, so it would match Hagrid's size. Sirius said he wouldn't need it anymore, which Hagrid found a bit weird. He said that Sirius was utterly devastated by my parents' death."

Harry paused, thinking back to the conversation he had had with his godfather about that night. Some things made much more sense now, but not everything. "I still don't understand why nobody ever tried to find out what really had happened. Sirius betraying my parents... after all I learned about him, nobody should have believed it. Why did no one ever bother to talk to him, not even Dumbledore?"

"Because to us, Sirius Black betraying his friends didn't seem so out of character as you paint it to be," Severus said, not at all happy that he should be the one who had to point it out to the boy. He had hated Sirius with a vengeance – he still did, to be honest. But Black had obviously meant a lot to Harry, if only because there had been no one else who had ever reached out to him and made him feel wanted.

And indeed – the slight aggression and the reproach in Harry's voice was poorly hidden when he promptly asked: "Why would you say that? I know you hated him, but Dumbledore didn't, and neither did Remus..."

Severus sighed. "Potter – if you insist on continuing asking me such questions, I insist on finding a place to sit down in some comfort: Dry, warm and private. And I need a drink." He made a turn, heading back towards the village.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked, confused.

As if it wasn't obvious. "Finding a pub," Severus replied, grumbling.

Harry was dubious about finding one that was open on Christmas day. And even more dubious about the privacy they would have there, should they find one. But he refrained from pointing out the obvious, knowing how much his teacher despised it, and just followed along.

"Now, about Sirius..." Severus picked up the question Harry had asked. "You know what happened in the Shrieking Shack when I was in my fourth year, don't you?"

"Yes." Sirius had lured him into the Shrieking Shack in a night of a full moon, where Lupin was hiding during his transformation. His father had rushed after him when he found out, narrowly saving him from death. Sirius had played it down when Harry had asked him about it, saying that it had been meant to be just a stupid prank, an opportunity to frighten the Slytherin he hated so much. But Harry, who had stood face to face with Remus in his werewolf form in his third year, had not bought it. Remus in his werewolf form was not just a little scary. He was deadly. Severus would have stood no chance again him.

"Sirius tried to get you killed," he said softly.

Severus threw him a surprised glance. He hadn't expected the boy to judge his deceased godfather so bluntly. To admit that the man he held in such high esteem had almost committed murder... No one else had ever acknowledged the bare facts. Not even Dumbledore. Everybody had always behaved as if Severus was exaggerating, blowing the incident up, while in truth, he had been shaking with fear, reliving the moment the werewolf had appeared at the end of the tunnel in his dreams for a couple of months.

"I wasn't the only one who was put in danger by Black that night", he said, feeling oddly placated by Harry's open admission of Black's guilt.

"What do you mean?"

"Think, Harry. If Lupin had killed me, it would have exposed him as a werewolf, and not even Dumbledore's protecting hand could have kept him out of Azkaban. Not to talk about the guilt Lupin would have felt for killing a fellow student. Black betrayed him whom he called a friend that night, using him as a tool to get rid of someone he despised. When your father came to the rescue, he didn't do it for me. He saved Lupin from becoming a killer and from being exposed. In the light of that incident – why should your father, Lupin or Dumbledore have found it hard to believe that Sirius could betray a friend? He had done so before. I believe Lupin never got over that. His relationship with both – your father and Black – was different after that. He was more aloof, distanced himself from them. The only one he was still really close with was your mother."

Harry suddenly remembered what Remus had once said about his mother: That Lily had been there for him at a time no one else had. "Yes, that's understandable..." Harry muttered, wondering if this had been the blow that had broken the Marauder's friendship and had led to mutual distrust later on. "But Dumbledore at least should have spoken to Sirius to get his version of events after he'd been taken to Azkaban."

"I suppose he would have done that, if not for the mass killing of those Muggles. All facts were clearly speaking of Black's guilt: Everybody was sure that he had been the Secret Keeper – your father himself had turned Dumbledore's offer down and insisted that it would be Black. Several Muggles had witnessed the murder of Peter, who called Black a traitor. And most importantly: Black never claimed to be innocent, made no effort to defend himself. All of that was proof enough to send him to Azkaban without trial. The only reason he didn't receive a Dementor's kiss was the fact that he was thought to have lost his sanity."

The were back in the village now, and Harry could see the church square down the road ahead. Severus pointed to a house on the left side the street. "There! Dew Drop Inn. If that isn't an invitation..."

"But it looks closed..." Harry dared to point out, but still followed behind. He was right, of course. The pub was dark and clearly not open. Severus pulled out his wand. "All the better. We wanted privacy." A wordless 'Alohomora' was enough; the lock snapped open.

Minerva McGonagall in Privet Drive

According to Canon, she sat there in cat-form since at least 8:30 Tuesday morning (Nov. 1), until Dumbledore appeared midnight the same day.

And yet she said to him: "The owls are nothing to the rumours that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

Who is everyone? We know for sure that she knew from Hagrid that Dumbledore would be in Privet Drive at some point that day, but she didn't know when and why. Who else but Hagrid could she have spoken to? She must have received Patronus messages. But then – if she wanted to speak to Dumbledore so urgently, why not send him a Patronus herself? Why not wait for him in Hogwarts, where he surely would have popped up, in between going back and forth between Godric's Hollow, the Ministry and the Order?

How could she and Dumbledore have spent a day away from Hogwarts all day in the first place? By logic, Minerva can't have been a deputy Headmistress at that point, because surely Dumbledore would have informed her personally in that case, especially if he was to be absent the entire day. Samhain seems to be a public holiday in Scotland, so maybe there were no classes to teach. Maybe she did sent a Patronus to Dumbledore (he must have gotten quite a few...) but maybe he was too busy to answer her. Or, being a mere teacher, she didn't dare to pester the Headmaster and Member of the Wizengamot for information.

No matter what the answer is – one has to admire her endurance, spending 15 hours in cat-form sitting on a wall just to have the rumours confirmed.