"There is never enough time to do everything, but there is always enough time to do the most important thing."
-Brian Tracy
9
After Time Runs Out
As Harry sat there in the Hog's Head, he checked his watch to see that an hour and a half had past. Of course, he didn't have to be back in Spinner's End for another hour and a half. But he got the feeling Snape wouldn't be back until very early in the morning, so he had time to do what he pleased. After tonight, he knew he would be stuck at Spinner's End, therefore he had better make the best of it.
Still covered by his Invisibility Cloak, Harry left the pub. He walked until he got to the main street of Hogsmeade. Tall streetlights with a large flame atop illuminated the street.
A warm gust of wind came at Harry as he walked, making a large piece of paper crash into his invisible chest. Hoping no one saw paper land into nothing, he grabbed it and pulled it under his cloak. He stopped to look at the poster.
There was a rather large picture of a man, holding a card with a number on it. The man had scraggly, long black hair; his face was thin, haggard, and pale. But his eyes, though sunken, still had a shine to them. Above the picture were the words in bold, black letters.
Sirius Black, Escaped Convict from Azkaban
Harry looked back at the picture with hatred, staring into the man's dark eyes. Black was the one who had put him in this situation – he was now hiding to save his life, and he detested it. But if Black wanted to come after him for making Voldemort vanish, then he would be ready.
Harry grabbed the top of the poster, his fingertips touching, and ripped the paper in half. The rip went right through Black, who had been laughing in the picture. He dropped it to the floor, stepping on it as he continued forward.
Without realizing, he had walked down the road of Hogsmeade towards the entrance, still thinking about how much Black had ruined his life. He stopped and looked around. He saw the Three Broomsticks and hoped it was still open. He could use a warm Butterbeer at the moment. Upon looking in through the window, he saw a man dressed in a dark blue cloak reading the Evening Prophet as he sat at one of the tables. Madam Rosmerta, Harry saw, was sitting behind the counter as she cleaned it lazily.
He wanted to go inside, but with only two people in there, they would definitely notice the door open and close of its own accord. And if he wanted a Butterbeer he would have to ask. But should he risk it? Would she tell Dumbledore he had been there? Would Snape find out?
Against his better judgment, Harry decided to go in. He was already there, and besides, he had already risked getting to the Hog's Head to listen to Lupin and Snape, and it had turned out perfectly fine. What could possibly go wrong in wanting a Butterbeer? He grabbed the handle and swung the door open, walking inside.
The man looked up from his newspaper, eyes wide in curiosity and fear, probably thinking it was Black. Madam Rosmerta stood up from her seat behind the counter, her eyes darting around nervously.
Quickly, Harry took off his Invisibility Cloak and held it in his arms. He felt so much better not being under the incredibly warm cloak. He realized that there was sweat on his forehead and on the back of his neck. His hair was probably sticking up in places, but he didn't care.
"Bloody hell, mate! Thought it was Black! You could've taken your cloak off outside, you know," the man blurted exasperatedly. He then pulled the newspaper up, so his face was hidden from view.
Harry walked to the counter. "Sorry if I scared you. I didn't mean to," he apologized.
"Don't worry about it, Harry," comforted Madam Rosmerta. "People here are more concerned about the Dementors. Butterbeer?"
Harry nodded as he sat on one of the stools. He placed his cloak on the stool beside him. "Why are they worrying about Dementors?" He put some coins on the table.
"Didn't you see one of the posters outside?" she asked. She turned and filled a mug with Butterbeer before handing it to Harry and taking the coins in return.
"I saw one for Sirius Black," Harry replied, and then took a long sip from the mug. It soothed his throat and seemed to take away part of his worries about Black. He took another, shorter sip and then looked up.
Madam Rosmerta was further down the counter, getting a poster that hung up on the wall. She brought it over to Harry, who scrutinized it closely.
--BY ORDER OF--
THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC
All employees, residents, and customers should
be aware that due to Sirius Black's escape
from Azkaban, Dementors will commence their patrolling
of the streets of Hogsmeade on the 15th of August.
Following Black's detainment, the Dementors will
be withdrawn. Have a lovely summer.
"Dementors from Azkaban roaming the streets? Does the Ministry really think that's necessary?" Harry asked as he laid the poster down besides his mug of butterbeer. "I've never been near one, but they sound horrible."
"They're worse then horrible, but the Ministry wants them here to protect everyone from Black. I certainly don't want them here. I can't imagine anyone who would. All my customers will be gone," Madam Rosmerta stated as she looked around the room. She turned back to Harry with a half smile. "You might be my only customer, Mr. Potter."
Harry smiled back. "If I can get here, I'll come."
p"No, no. You work on your studies. That's most important. And considering Black is after you, you most certainly shouldn't come here. I want you to stay safe." She suddenly gave him a curious look and speculated, "Harry, shouldn't you be somewhere out of harm's way? Black could be near Hogsmeade right now."
"I'm staying somewhere safe. Don't worry," he muttered with a small smile. "I just needed a break from being inside all day and night."
Madam Rosmerta nodded understandingly. "Well, if you ever need a place to stay, you're always welcome here, Harry. I'll do my best to make it as safe as possible."
"Thank you," answered Harry cheerfully. He would love to stay at the Three Broomsticks and have butterbeer all the time. But, unfortunately, he didn't decide where he stayed. "But you'd have to talk to Dumbledore. He's the one who arranged where I'm staying," he added with distaste.
"I'm guessing you don't like where it is you're staying."
"Not at all. I'd tell you where, but…just in case," he muttered as he swiveled on his stool, searching around the room. The man with the newspaper had left.
"I don't need to know," Madam Rosmerta said. Harry turned back to the counter and drank from his mug. "But it was Dumbledore who put you there, so I'm sure he did it with only the best intentions. He wants you to be protected, Harry."
"I know, but—"
The door to the Three Broomsticks opened and closed. Harry turned to see a very large man standing there, sweating slightly from the heat. He saw Harry and a look of surprise came over his face.
Harry leapt from his stool, happy to see his friend. He hadn't seen anyone he was close to in weeks. "Hagrid!"
"Harry! It's good ter see yeh!" Hagrid stomped over, but then stopped halfway. "Wait a minute. Why aren' yeh at – yer hidin' place?" Harry knew he was being careful not to give anything away. Dumbledore must have told him.
"Well, if you know where Dumbledore put me, you'll know why I hate it. I hate him and he hates me. It's horrible," interjected Harry.
"Stop moanin' and groanin'. Dumbledore put yeh there 'cause he knew yeh'd be safe," Hagrid asserted. He stopped for a moment to think. "How long have yeh been here, Harry? 'Cause however long yeh've been here is long enough."
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Hagrid continued, "Harry, as wonderful as it is teh see yeh, I want yeh ter go back righ' now. Yer not safe here, so put yer cloak on and run along back."
"But, Hagrid."
"No. Go back," Hagrid said firmly. "Yeh have ter be safe." He walked past Harry to sit down on one of the stools, which creaked slightly from his weight.
Madam Rosmerta asked, "Four pints of mulled mead, Hagrid?" He nodded as she turned to Harry, "Here. Take a butterbeer to go. It's on the house." She placed a full mug next to the empty one.
Harry snatched his Invisibility Cloak and the mug. "Thanks," he answered with a smile. He turned to Hagrid, "See you in September."
"Stay safe, Harry. I'll send yeh a letter."
"Bye."
With the mug in his hand, Harry covered himself and walked away from the two adults. He exited and walked a couple paces, not that they could see him anyway. He checked his watch, and saw that he had fifteen minutes until his three hours were over. But he wasn't planning on going back to Spinner's End now.
Harry smiled to himself, happy he wasn't at Snape's house. He looked up and saw the Hogwarts castle – his true home. With nothing else to do, Harry began to walk back towards the grounds, drinking, somewhat messily, from his mug of Butterbeer as he did. When he finished, he was at the end of Hogsmeade; Harry dropped the mug into a bin.
Seeing as there would be no lighting between the end of Hogsmeade and the Hogwarts castle, Harry took his Hand of Glory out of his pocket, holding it in front of him to see. About twenty minutes later, he reached the uninhabited, dim, and gloomy-looking Hogwarts grounds. Harry strode to the Black Lake, unable to see Hagrid's cabin but the Womping Willow was in sight.
The dark, murky water was moving ever so slightly from the wind, and a reflection from the crescent moon was shining off the surface. Harry sat down near the edge, still holding his Hand of Glory under his cloak. Sitting down, he realized how much he was sweating from the combined heat of being outside in the summer, even though it was night, and of being underneath the Invisibility Cloak.
Harry turned to look at the castle. All the lights, except for a few, were out. Thinking it safe for just a couple of minutes, Harry took off the cloak, laying it on the ground beside him.
With the soft, warm breezes against his skin, he felt a great deal better. He shifted a little to reach the lake and dipped his hands into the chilly water. Cupping his hands, he placed whatever water he could get onto the back of his neck and forehead. After a few moments, he wiped, with the front of his shirt, the drips that ran down his face.
Harry simply sat there, watching the soft-rippling water in complete silence. The only sounds he could hear was the soft gusts of wind, the ruffling of the trees' leaves, and the occasional animal in the Forbidden Forest.
But when Harry heard someone running, the soft pounding of feet against the earth, he stood and threw his cloak over him with impeccable speed. He was now as alert as ever. He turned in the direction of the sound and saw in the distance, a man running towards the Womping Willow.
He squinted, trying to make out who it was. The man did something to the Womping Willow that made its branches freeze. Harry stood there and then gasped aloud. It was Sirius Black.
Snape said Black had told him how to get past the Womping Willow back when he was in school. No one else would go past that wild tree unless they were desperate and needed a hide out. It had to be him.
As Harry crept along to the Womping Willow, he realized that he could alert the Ministry this very moment and tell them Black was hiding past that tree if he went to the Owlry. He knew they would be there in a matter of minutes and take him back to Azkaban.
But Harry would much rather catch Black himself. He wanted the satisfaction of knowing that it had been him. He wanted to see Black's reaction when he saw it was he instead of some Ministry official.
But he also wanted to see Black's face. True, he had seen it on the poster, but he wanted to see it up close. He wanted to see Black for who he really was.
Harry stood a couple of feet from the Womping Willow. Its branches were waving threateningly, ready to strike. He took a couple steps, hoping to see what it was Black had done.
Instead Harry got hit in the stomach so powerfully that he was thrown back; his Hand of Glory flew out of his hand. He landed hard on his back, unable to breathe. All the air had been knocked out of him. He felt something under his back, and grabbed it. It was a plain but long stick.
He grabbed his Hand of Glory, about to toss the stick when he remembered what Snape had said, "Black told me that if I prodded the knot on the Womping Willow, I would be able to see where it was you went every month."
All he had to do was prod the knot.
Moving slowly, Hand of Glory in one hand, stick in the other, Harry went toward the Womping Willow. He looked at the trunk for a part jutting out. When he found it, he pressed the stick carefully to the bump. The branches stopped moving, and Harry was able to see a space between the roots of the tree. He threw the stick back to where he found it.
Pushing himself through, he held his Hand of Glory, making sure also that his Invisibility Cloak stayed on. Harry found himself in a cramped dirt tunnel with small roots lining the circular walls. He trod hastily through the tunnel, which eventually rose and curved.
Ten minutes later, Harry saw that he was at the end of the dark tunnel. He pulled himself up through a hole, and found himself in an old, dust-filled room. The dust stung the back of his throat as he breathed. Looking around, he saw furniture, except whatever was there was battered to bits. There were rips in every piece of fabric. There were a couple of windows, but Harry couldn't see out of them because they were either so grimy, covered with thick curtains that looked beyond repair, or nailed over with wood panels.
The floor also had a thick layer of dust. Harry saw discernable footprints, leading out of the room. Slowly and quietly, he followed the dusty prints. They lead into a hallway and then up the stairs. The pale wallpaper was peeling on the first floor, as well as on the landing, which is where he stopped.
Across from Harry was a door held ajar. Coming from the room was soft, yellow light, and he saw footprints leading in. He heard sounds coming from the room. Harry stowed his Hand of Glory away and instead took out his wand. He didn't want to be without it.
Taking a deep breath, Harry walked toward the door and kicked it open.
A/N: So, are you wondering why Harry has stayed past his three hours and not messed up the whole universe? Well, because no one knew he had left or witnessed his leaving, he was able to not go back at the same time because no one knew. I hope that made sense. Did you like the chapter?
I would also like to say thank you for all your encouraging and helpful comments, whether ecstatic about the story or critical of the writing. I love your comments either way – they help me very much and I love reading them! Thanks again!
Preview of Chapter 10—Black As Night:
