Families and Familiars
The Time Between
A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.
/Telepathy/
[[Parseltongue]]
**Private thoughts**
(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)
August 2, 1991 Azkaban
In the normal course of events, owls did not grace Azkaban and its environs. As such, a snowy owl should really have garnered some level of attention, but the dementors could not see, and did not perceive animals, and the small handful of wizard guards had long ago become negligent and careless in the performance of their duties. After all, the prisoners were deprived of wands and in the near-constant presence of dementors. What could they possibly do?
So it was that Hedwig reached the window to Sirius Black's cell uncontested. She landed with a deliberately noisy scrabble, and the scruffy, rail-thin, miserable-looking black dog hiding under the thin, rickety cot scrambled out of hiding, its form twisting and changing to that of an equally ill-kempt man as it moved.
For a long moment Sirius stared at the owl in confused incomprehension, unable to quite reconcile what he was seeing. It wasn't until the owl clacked its beak impatiently that he rallied, giving his head a shake and approaching the bird. It held one leg out, though Sirius could not help but notice it carried another missive. He blinked in shock when he spotted the name on the second letter.
Someone was writing both himself and Remus? For the first time in a decade, something like hope rose in Sirius' chest, and he quickly took the letter meant for him. He was surprised when the bird did not immediately depart, given it had another letter to deliver. He set aside that curiosity in favor of the letter. To his surprise, a small pouch fell out of the parchment when he unrolled it. He caught it quickly, then read the few short lines.
"Harry." He whispered, staring at the parchment in something like awe. "Harry wrote ... " He glanced at the owl. "He knows." Sirius almost broke down crying in relief that someone knew, and believed, he was innocent. He carefully set the letter on the cot, and opened the pouch.
It took every ounce of his exceedingly shaky control to *not* laugh like a demented hyena when the Black Family signet ring rolled into his palm. Merlin bless the goblins. And Merlin bless Harry. If this was any indication, he was a right proper Marauder. He took a breath and slid the ring on, then grinned in triumph when it glowed gold and sized itself to his finger. Thanks be to everything that 'betraying' one's family was, at least by the magic that governed the rings, not opinions and beliefs, or getting Sorted into a different House than everyone else.
The ring wasn't much, not here, at least not until the right person noticed he was wearing it, but it was something. Sirius sat down on the bed and looked at the scrap of parchment. Harry was right. Writing was a bad idea. He glanced up at Hedwig, and gave her a grin. "Trust the pup to have a familiar at all, nevermind this young." He said. "Tell him I'm all right, and that I love him, and to be careful. And watch out for him, would you?"
Hedwig bobbed her head emphatically, then swooped into the sky. /Harry, I've delivered the ring to Sirius. He's wearing it. He says he's all right, and he loves you, and be careful./ She relayed.
/Hedwig? You're there, and I can hear you still? Wow./
Hedwig snickered mentally. /Which part of being with each other no matter where we go did you not quite understand, again?/
/So I'm still figuring this out, sue me./ Harry snarked back.
/I think not. Incidentally, I don't think Remus left the island, or if he did, he came back at some point. He feels a lot closer than the day's flight it'd be just to reach France./
/Well, that's good news./
Sirius watched Hedwig disappear into the distance and shifted back to dog form. He needed to think, to plan. The knowledge of his innocence had kept him sane, but dreams of revenge had kept him warm at night. Neither were happy things, so the dementors could not feed on them.
Unfortunately, his plans for revenge had been ill-formed and nebulous, given the apparent impossibility of him getting out of here. Now, though ... now was the time to get down to business and really think things out. Because he was going to get out of here, and when he did ... well, right now it was a tossup as to who he'd go after first, and just how badly he'd screw with them. And the best part was, they'd never see it coming. After all, everyone knew it was suicide to cross a Black, and hadn't everyone been watching him, waiting for him to prove that blood tells? so he would indulge them ... just not in the way they expected.
HPHPHP
Somewhere in Wales
Remus Lupin's life had been quietly miserable these last ten years. He'd all but left the magical world entirely, mostly because no one would employ a werewolf. Of course, the fact that his pack had been shattered beyond repair with two dead, one a traitor, and one wrongly jailed, really didn't help. Unfortunately, life in the muggle world hadn't been much better than in the magical. He still had to take two or three days off around the full moon, which most employers frowned on, so Remus had been reduced to whatever temporary work he could find in order to survive.
More than once, he'd been tempted to end the misery, but every time, the knowledge that James' son was out there somewhere stopped him. Harry would not stay hidden forever. He would attend Hogwarts. He would need help, if only to adjust to the magical world. Remus, being far from stupid, had long since come to the conclusion that Harry had been placed with Lily's sister. Unfortunately, that knowledge did not allow him to find Harry, as he had not the foggiest notion of where Petunia might be living, and Dumbledore was adamant that everyone stay away, so finding out from that source was just not happening. If anyone else knew, they either weren't about to tell a werewolf or could not pass on the information due to a spell or oath.
Recently, he'd begun making plans. Harry would be at King's Cross September first, and Remus fully intended to be there to meet him. Fortune smiled on him in that the full moon was on the twenty-fifth of August, which meant that while he'd still be a bit low on energy, the aches, pains, and deep exhaustion that followed his transformations would be over. He'd still look like he'd got run over by a lorry of course, but there was nothing he could do about that. Even more fortunately, he'd managed over the last year to put enough money by to get to King's Cross, since he'd not be in any shape to apparate that sort of distance. Partway there, yes. The whole way, no.
He'd just gotten back to his tiny shack (only the heavily reinforced basement was anything other than barely adequate), when a white owl swooped down at him, parchment tied to its leg. Despite being thoroughly startled, given it had been well over a year since he'd heard from anyone in the wizarding world, he held out an arm for the owl to land on.
"Hello there. Just a moment and I'll get you some water and get that letter, all right?" He told the owl.
He unlocked his front door and walked in. There cramped main room had just barely enough room for a single chair and some bookcases, crammed with old, worn and battered books from both the muggle and wizard world. He settled the owl on the back of the chair and then headed into the kitchen to get a dish of water, and came back out.
"Here you are, then. Let's see who's writing me, shall we?" Remus gently removed the parchment from the owl's leg and opened it.
He rapidly became grateful he was standing right by the chair as he sank into it, tears springing to his eyes. "Harry." His voice throbbed with relief and joy. "I don't ... how ... " He looked at Hedwig. "A familiar? That's incredible." He looked down at the short letter again. "James and Lily said? Now he's got me curious. Of course I'll meet him! I'd been planning on intercepting him at King's Cross anyway. I should have known that James and Lily's son would have managed something like this. There's so much I need to tell him."
Hedwig crackled in amusement, which had Remus looking at her for a moment. "Of course, if 'James and Lily said', it's entirely possible he knows some or all of it already." To which Hedwig bobbed her head enthusiastically. "So much the better. I'll be more than happy to meet him, but we'd best do it somewhere relatively safe. And probably as close to wherever he lives as we can, so his absence doesn't get noticed."
Hedwig passed along Remus' comments. /I like this one, Harry. He's quite clever./
/Glad you approve/ Harry told her, deeply amused. /I'll have to think of somewhere to meet him. Probably the local library. I'll have to send you back with directions once you've had a rest and visited Amelia Bones./
Hedwig crackled again, briefly preened Remus' hair, and took her leave.
Remus started packing.
August 4, 1991 Amelia Bones' residence
Amelia always scanned the mail just after breakfast. Nothing malicious reached her, between the wards around her property and her house-elf's protective diligence. There was the paper to be read, more to observe patterns in what was reported and considered news than to find things out, as in her position she generally knew things before the paper did. There was also usually at least one missive from the office, an overnight report of whatever trouble had occurred. At least once a week she got a letter from her younger brother, the only other member of her family to escape death at Voldemort's hands, and her niece (despite the fact she saw them in person at least once a month). There was also, inevitably, missives from various members of the Wizengamot seeking her opinion and or support on various bills and laws being put to vote.
She was wholly unprepared for the contents of one of the letters.
Madam Bones
For the last ten years I have grown up unaware of the magical world. Imagine my surprise a few days ago when Rubeus Hagrid arrived with my school letter and informed me of my parentage ... and my fame. I found myself curious indeed, and arranged a return visit to Gringotts the next day.
To say I was stunned and deeply disturbed by what I found is to vastly understate the case. I have been assured by neutral parties that you are a witch well known for her fairness of mind and devotion to justice. I would ask you to review and investigate the information I bring you with an open mind.
Shortly before their untimely deaths, my parents left some vital information in the Potter Vault. Their will, a magically-binding document, and a memory. It is the memory and one of the notarized document and the memory that I feel I must bring to your attention. In the memory, my parents told me briefly about Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. They also mentioned that they feared something underhanded was going on, and had thus left proofs behind, just in case they were right. In the memory and the document both, they averred that Peter Pettigrew was their Secret Keeper, not Sirius Black, and that if they were right about underhanded dealings, Sirius Black would either be dead, Kissed (whatever that means) or incarcerated in Azkaban. I was able to confirm with the neutral parties that recommended I contact you privately that Sirius Black is indeed in jail.
I am unaware of the hows and whys of his incarceration, but I beg you to investigate. I will be more than willing to allow you to view both memory and document in the course of your investigation, but I must insist they remain in my possession until such time as it becomes necessary to part with them.
Yours respectfully
Harry Potter
Amelia stared at the letter in dumbfounded disbelief. Harry Potter writing her was shock enough. Harry Potter writing her about this ... it was enough to give a witch palpitations. She read and reread the letter several times before setting it down and contemplating what she'd read.
Sirius Black's capture had been surrounded by enormous amounts of rumor, speculation and gossip. There had been no doubt as to his guilt. After all, everyone knew he was James' best friend. Who else would James have trusted with his Secret? But if this memory and document were legitimate ... well, it was worth looking at, in any case. Surely the trial transcript would reassure the boy? Yes, that would do. And if by chance something did appear to be amiss with the trial and/or arrest proceedings, then Sirius would be owed a proper hearing. Even someone like him deserved a fair trial. She got out parchment and quill and jotted down a quick response.
Mr. Potter
Firstly, welcome back to the Wizarding world. Regarding the matter you wrote to me about, I confess myself intrigued and concerned. I will be looking into the matter within the next day or two, and will let you know what I discover from my end. I would indeed be most interested in seeing the memory and document in question. Would it be possible to arrange a meeting, say next week? We would then be able to exchange information, mine for yours.
Yours respectfully
Madam Bones
The moment she finished the letter, a snowy owl flew in through the window and gave her a pointed look, holding out its leg and clattering its beak imperatively. Amelia looked at it for a moment. "Potter's owl, I take it." Well used to the vagaries of post owls, she lost no time in tying the letter to the owls leg, and watched it depart.
HPHPHP
Ministry for Magic, later that day
Amelia Bones stared at the magical filing cabinet in front of her in abject horror. She'd told her office crew she'd be in Records looking at old cases (which was, thankfully, the honest truth). She really hadn't expected what she'd found. Or, rather, not found. There was not one scrap of documentation regarding Sirius Black's case. Not an arrest record, not a trial transcript, nothing. Not in the general records nor in the controlled-access files. Nor were any of the belongings Sirius Black had to have had on him at the time he was arrested anywhere to be found in the Auror lockup. Suddenly, that 'underhanded dealings' worry of the Potters' did not seem so farfetched. Amelia left the Records room and headed back to her office. She would have to question people, quietly and carefully, to see what, exactly, had happened.
Wales
Hedwig dropped off another short letter with directions to the library close to Privet drive. Remus told her to tell Harry he'd see him in two day's time.
August 6, 1991, Little Whinging, Surrey
Harry had to fight the urge to pace as he waited in the library. He and Hedwig had been here since about an hour before the library opened, since Harry was entirely too anxious to sleep. He was about to meet one of his parents' best friends.
/Here he comes/ Hedwig told him. Harry immediately moved to a spot where he could see the door. A few seconds later he spotted a man in old, worn but well-cared for clothes walking through the door. He stopped rather abruptly for a second before he seemed to recover and close the distance. Up close, Harry could see that Remus looked a good bit older than he had to be, if he was of an age with Harry's parents. Remus's face was lined and there was more than a touch of silver at his temples.
For Remus, the first glimpse of Harry hit him like a punch to the solar plexus. From a slight distance, Harry looked so much like an eleven-year-old James it hurt. He stopped for a moment, trying to catch his breath, and then closed the distance. "Hello there, Harry." He said. "You look so much like your father it's incredible."
Harry smiled a bit. "Hello, Remus."
They stood there rather awkwardly for a minute before Remus somewhat hesitantly tried to hug Harry. Harry stiffened for a second instinctively, entirely unused to being touched without malice, then sort of melted into it. That seemed to break the ice, and after a minute the two of them tucked themselves into a corner and talked for hours.
August 11, 1991 Little Whinging, Surrey
This time, Harry waited for Amelia Bones in the small meeting room on one side of the library.
/Here she comes/ Warned Hedwig again.
Amelia Bones had been expecting, given Harry's family's wealth and standing, a well-turned out young man, even if he had only recently been made aware of the wizarding world, the Potters were well off enough to have provided quite well for Harry in the event of their deaths. Unlike many witches and wizards, Amelia was fairly at home in the muggle world. She had made a point of it, early in her career, so as to call less attention to herself on those inevitable occasions when a wizarding matter spilled into the muggle world.
Harry was dressed surprisingly simply, and in clothes that looked suspiciously, painfully new. He was also far too thin for a boy his age, and had the sort of world-weary, wary look in his eyes she generally associated with people who'd seen the ravages of the war with Voldemort up close and personal. It was not a look she expected to see in the eyes of a young man raised away from such things. It was a look that had her Auror's instincts raising an alert. It really didn't help that she'd spent the last week discovering things that disturbed her deeply.
"Mr. Potter. A pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise, Madam." Harry said.
They sat down at the table and started talking.
August 12, 1991, Privet Drive
Harry still couldn't believe it. Sirius hadn't had a trial. He apparently hadn't even been questioned. He'd just been shoved into Azkaban and forgotten. Amelia had looked and sounded deeply disturbed by the whole thing. She'd not looked at either the document or the memory, but had told him to keep them safe, as she'd need to view them and register them as evidence when they moved to get Sirius out of Azkaban.
The when and how of that particular trick, Harry had left to Amelia. She, after all, knew the Ministry and the people she'd be dealing with, and he did not. So Amelia had set the date for dealing with Sirius as September first. Certain key people would be entirely too busy to stick their noses into things, which was good, as those same people were complicit in the obstruction of justice and the suppression and/or destruction of every evidence of the entire affair save Sirius himself.
August 3-30, 1991, Privet Drive
Harry spent the time between letters and meetings with his nose buried in his schoolbooks. Thankfully, the Dursleys seemed to be settling for ignoring his existence. He wasn't even being forced to do chores, much to his relief. Remus proved to be an invaluable resource, as he recommended several supplementary books to Harry that made a lot of things a good bit clearer and easier to understand. Their meetings (every few days after the first one) were filled with tales about James, and Lily, and Sirius. Harry soaked it all up like a dry sponge, reveling in finally learning things about the parents he'd always wondered about.
August 15, 1991, Hogwarts
Minerva McGonagall was not, normally, a woman given to emotional excesses, but the closer the new school year got, the more anxious she became. She had never been easy about Harry's placement, had never been happy with it, and had remonstrated with the Headmaster more than once. She'd even tried to go back to watch after the poor boy, only to discover she couldn't find the place, despite having been there and seen it with her own eyes. She could only hope that Harry was all right. And if he wasn't, the Headmaster would be getting a taste of her ire, and whether he liked it or not, something would be done, or her name wasn't Minerva McGonagall.
And as for Severus, if that man didn't treat the boy right, there'd be hell to pay. Severus had been all but unlivable during the teacher meetings over the summer, completely unreasonable about anything and everything to do with Harry and taking it out on everyone in blasting range. He'd always been dour, vicious-tongued and all-around unpleasant, but this was ridiculous. She had half a mind to take a paddle to the man's posterior in hopes it would improve his disposition, despite knowing that such an indignity was precisely the wrong thing to do with an already prickly Severus.
August 31, 1991 Privet Drive
/Tomorrow's the day, Hedwig./
/Indeed it is. Are you looking forward to it?/ Hedwig asked, with the air of someone who knows the (blatantly obvious) answer and is asking merely to humor you.
Harry gave an amused snort. /More than a little bit. It was nice of Remus to offer to take me to King's Cross. Better than having to deal with the Dursleys, for sure./
/Definitely. I shall be quite glad to leave this place. Those people are beyond rude./
/Not going to argue with you on that one./ Harry said.
/Do you have everything packed?/ Hedwig wanted to know.
/Yep. I even double-checked. We're ready./
Hedwig, who'd been sitting on his knee, enjoying his gentle scratching of the back of her head, turned her head and gave his fingers a gentle, loving nip. /Have you decided what to do about the Dursleys?/
/For now, I'm just cutting off their payments. That's revenge enough, considering they'll have ten months of restricted means to look forward to. The rest ... I'll deal with that when things are a bit more settled and sure. I want Sirius free and safe before I really start rattling cages/
/That's probably wise./ Hedwig agreed. /It's getting late. You'd best get to bed, you're going to need your rest./
/Yes mum/ Harry thought, trying hard not to laugh. Hedwig gave him a dirty look before she settled herself on the owl stand next to his bed.