Hello wonderful readers! I now present to you! The tenth chapter! WOOOHOOOO! YAY! Lol please enjoy!
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James felt horrible, about her cousin Harry but what could she do? Nothing, so that's what she did nothing, it's not like he visited her when she was hurt by the hippogriff. So she spent her days writing to Charlie or hanging out with the twins. James also noticed something off about Fred; he seemed very protective and was always sneaking glances at her. She would think he had a crush on her if she didn't know him. Why would he like her anyway? Plus Alicia liked Fred and said girl had told James to back off her Twin. James had then told Alicia to shove it and that she was only friends with the Twins. This had caused tension in the team but James and Alicia still held their ground, James had done nothing wrong. Also James has taken to wearing the Black family necklace more often to piss off Malfoy who had been showing off his Malfoy ring he had gotten for his last birthday. She was on her way with Harry, Ron, and Hermione to Defense Against the Dark Arts, Snape had backed off James completely and she had McGonagall to thank for that.
"If Snape's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts again, I'm skiving off," said Ron as they headed toward Lupin's classroom after lunch.
"You bet I'm with you on that one mate." James said with a grimace.
"Check who's in there, Hermione."
Hermione peered around the classroom door.
"It's okay!"
Professor Lupin was back at work. It certainly looked as though he had been ill. His old robes were hanging more loosely on him and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes; nevertheless, he smiled at the class as they took their seats, and they burst at once into an explosion of complaints about Snape's behavior while Lupin had been ill.
"It's not fair, he was only filling in, why should he give us homework?"
"It's not fair that he kept taking points off me!"
"We don't know anything about werewolves —"
"— two rolls of parchment!"
"Did you tell Professor Snape we haven't covered them yet?" Lupin asked, frowning slightly.
The babble broke out again.
"Yes but the bloody bastard wouldn't listen!"
"Yes, but he said we were really behind —"
"— he wouldn't listen —"
"— two rolls of parchment!"
Professor Lupin smiled at the look of indignation on every face.
"Don't worry. I'll speak to Professor Snape. You don't have to do the essay."
"Oh no," said Hermione, looking very disappointed. "I've already finished it!"
"I didn't even know we had it, it's okay Hermione." James said patting Hermione's head who glared at her slightly.
They had a very enjoyable lesson. Professor Lupin had brought along a glass box containing a Hinkypunk, a little one-legged creature who looked as though he were made of wisps of smoke, rather frail and harmless looking.
"Lures travelers into bogs," said Professor Lupin as they took notes. "You notice the lantern dangling from his hand? Hops ahead — people follow the light — then —"
The Hinkypunk made a horrible squelching noise against the glass.
When the bell rang, everyone gathered up their things and headed for the door, James among them, but —
"Wait a moment, Harry, James," Lupin called. "I'd like a word."
James doubled back and watched Professor Lupin covering the Hinkypunk's box with a cloth.
"I heard about the match," said Lupin looking at Harry, James wondered what the hell she was doing there then, turning back to his desk and starting to pile books into his briefcase, "and I'm sorry about your broomstick. Is there any chance of fixing it?"
"No," said Harry. "The tree smashed it to bits."
Lupin sighed.
"They planted the Whomping Willow the same year that I arrived at Hogwarts. People used to play a game, trying to get near enough to touch the trunk. In the end, a boy called Davey Gudgeon nearly lost an eye, and we were forbidden to go near it. No broomstick would have a chance."
"Did you hear about the Dementors too?" said Harry with difficulty.
Lupin looked at him quickly. James wanted to just leave but she knew Lupin would notice.
"Yes, I did. I don't think any of us have seen Professor Dumbledore that angry. They have been growing restless for some time… furious at his refusal to let them inside the grounds… I suppose they were the reason you fell?"
"Yes," said Harry. He hesitated, and then the question he had to ask burst from him before he could stop himself. "Why? Why do they affect me like that? Am I just —?"
"It has nothing to do with weakness," said Professor Lupin sharply. "The Dementors affect you worse than the others because there are horrors in your past that the others don't have. Yours more than anything James, I have to say, how did you handle it? "
A ray of wintry sunlight fell across the classroom, illuminating Lupin's gray hairs and the lines on his young face. James mind flashed to her father, she hadn't told anyone afraid for him. It was selfish thought, but she couldn't hope but believe he was innocent.
"Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them. Even Muggles feel their presence, though they can't see them. Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself — soul-less and evil. You'll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. And the worst that happened to you, Harry, is enough to make anyone fall off their broom. You have nothing to feel ashamed of."
"When they get near me —" Harry stared at Lupin's desk, his throat tight. "I can hear Voldemort murdering my mum."
"I hear my mom being tortured, I see it too. I only through it off because of the twins, they were screaming nearby." James said with a frown and looking outside.
Lupin made a sudden motion with his arm as though to grip their shoulders, but thought better of it. There was a moment's silence, then —
"Why did they have to come to the match?" said Harry bitterly.
"A feast," James said with a grimace.
"They're getting hungry," said Lupin coolly nodding at James, shutting his briefcase with a snap. "Dumbledore won't let them into the school, so their supply of human prey has dried up… I don't think they could resist the large crowd around the Quidditch field. All that excitement… emotions running high… it was their idea of a feast."
"Azkaban must be terrible," James muttered. Lupin nodded grimly.
"The fortress is set on a tiny island, way out to sea, but they don't need walls and water to keep the prisoners in, not when they're all trapped inside their own heads, incapable of a single cheery thought. Most of them go mad within weeks."
"But Sirius Black escaped from them," Harry said slowly. "He got away…"
Lupin's briefcase slipped from the desk; he had to stoop quickly to catch it.
"Yes," he said, straightening up, "Black must have found a way to fight them. I wouldn't have believed it possible… Dementors are supposed to drain a wizard of his powers if he is left with them too long…"
"You made that Dementor on the train back off," said Harry suddenly.
"There are — certain defenses one can use," said Lupin. "But there was only one Dementor on the train. The more there are, the more difficult it becomes to resist."
"What defenses?" said Harry at once. "Can you teach me?"
"I don't pretend to be an expert at fighting Dementors, Harry — quite the contrary…"
"But if the Dementors come to another Quidditch match, I need to be able to fight them —"
Lupin looked into Harry's determined face, hesitated, then said, "Well… all right. I'll try and help. But it'll have to wait until next term, I'm afraid. I have a lot to do before the holidays. I chose a very inconvenient time to fall ill."
What with the promise of anti-Dementor lessons from Lupin, the thought that she might never have to hear and see her mother's torture again, and the fact that Ravenclaw flattened Hufflepuff in their Quidditch match at the end of November, James mood took a definite upturn. Gryffindor were not out of the running after all, although they could not afford to lose another match. Wood became repossessed of his manic energy, and worked his team as hard as ever in the chilly haze of rain that persisted into December. James saw no hint of a Dementor within the grounds. Dumbledore's anger seemed to be keeping them at their stations at the entrances.
Two weeks before the end of the term, the sky lightened suddenly to a dazzling, opaline white and the muddy grounds were revealed one morning covered in glittering frost. Inside the castle, there was a buzz of Christmas in the air. Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, had already decorated his classroom with shimmering lights that turned out to be real, fluttering fairies. The students were all happily discussing their plans for the holidays. Both Ron and Hermione had decided to remain at Hogwarts, and though Ron said it was because he couldn't stand two weeks with Percy, and Hermione insisted she needed to use the library, James wasn't fooled; they were doing it to keep them company, and she was very grateful.
To everyone's delight except James's and Harry's, there was to be another Hogsmeade trip on the very last weekend of the term.
"We can do all our Christmas shopping there!" said Hermione. "Mum and Dad would really love those Toothflossing Stringmints from Honeydukes!"
Resigned to the fact that they would be the only third years staying behind again, James borrowed a copy of Pranks of the centuries from the twins, and decided to spend the day reading up on the different pranks. She had some planning to do, she wanted to prank someone.
On the Saturday morning of the Hogsmeade trip, Harry and James bid good-bye to Ron and Hermione, who were wrapped in cloaks and scarves, then turned up the marble staircase alone, and headed back toward Gryffindor Tower. Snow had started to fall outside the windows, and the castle was very still and quiet.
"Psst — James! Harry!"
They turned, halfway along the third-floor corridor, to see Fred and George peering out at them from behind a statue of a humpbacked, one-eyed witch.
"What are you doing?" asked James curiously, with a tilt of her head and Fred petted her head. "How come you're not going to Hogsmeade?"
"We've come to give you a bit of festive cheer before we go," said Fred, with a mysterious wink. "Come in here…"
He nodded toward an empty classroom to the left of the one-eyed statue. They followed Fred and George inside. George closed the door quietly and then turned, beaming, to look at them.
"Early Christmas present for you, James, Harry," he said.
Fred pulled something from inside his cloak with a flourish and laid it on one of the desks. It was a large, square, very worn piece of parchment with nothing written on it. James, suspecting one of Fred and George's jokes, raised an eyebrow at it.
"What's that supposed to be?" James asked, her curiosity getting better over her.
"This, James, is the secret of our success," said George, patting the parchment fondly.
"It's a wrench, giving it to you two," said Fred, "but we decided last night, your need's greater than ours."
"Anyway, we know it by heart," said George. "We bequeath it to you both. We don't really need it anymore."
"And what do I need with a bit of old parchment?" said Harry. James looked at Harry with mocking wide eyes, she knew the twins wouldn't make something like this up.
"A bit of old parchment!" said Fred, closing his eyes with a grimace as though Harry had mortally offended him. "Explain, George."
"Well… when we were in our first year, Harry — young, carefree, and innocent —"
Harry snorted. He doubted whether Fred and George had ever been innocent.
"Suuurrrreeee…" James stressed out and Fred bopped her on the head with the parchment.
" — well, more innocent than we are now — we got into a spot of bother with Filch."
"We let off a Dungbomb in the corridor and it upset him for some reason —"
"So he hauled us off to his office and started threatening us with the usual —"
"— detention —"
"— disembowelment —"
"— and we couldn't help noticing a drawer in one of his filing cabinets marked Confiscated and Highly Dangerous."
"Don't tell me —" said James, starting to grin.
"Well, what would you've done?" said Fred. "George caused a diversion by dropping another Dungbomb, I whipped the drawer open, and grabbed — this."
"It's not as bad as it sounds, you know," said George. "We don't reckon Filch ever found out how to work it. He probably suspected what it was, though, or he wouldn't have confiscated it."
"And you know how to work it?"
"Oh yes," said Fred, smirking. "This little beauty's taught us more than all the teachers in this school."
"You're winding me up," said Harry, looking at the ragged old bit of parchment.
"Oh, are we?" said George.
He took out his wand, touched the parchment lightly, and said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
And at once, thin ink lines began to spread like a spider's web from the point that George's wand had touched. They joined each other, they crisscrossed, they fanned into every corner of the parchment; then words began to blossom across the top, great, curly green words, that proclaimed:
Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs
Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present
THE MARAUDER'S MAP
It was a map showing every detail of the Hogwarts castle and grounds. But the truly remarkable things were the tiny ink dots moving around it, each labeled with a name in minuscule writing. The name padfoot and moony had her stomach clenched, her dreams from second year coming into focus.
Astounded, James bent over it. A labeled dot in the top left corner showed that Professor Dumbledore was pacing his study; the caretaker's cat, Mrs. Norris, was prowling the second floor; and Peeves the Poltergeist was currently bouncing around the trophy room. And as James's eyes travelled up and down the familiar corridors, she noticed something else.
This map showed a set of passages she had never entered. And many of them seemed to lead —
"Right into Hogsmeade," said Fred, tracing one of them with his finger.
"There are seven in all. Now, Filch knows about these four" — he pointed them out — "but we're sure we're the only ones who know about these. Don't bother with the one behind the mirror on the fourth floor. We used it until last winter, but it's caved in — completely blocked. And we don't reckon anyone's ever used this one, because the Whomping Willow's planted right over the entrance. But this one here, this one leads right into the cellar of Honeydukes. We've used it loads of times. And as you might've noticed, the entrance is right outside this room, through that one-eyed old crone's hump."
"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," sighed George, patting the heading of the map. "We owe them so much."
"Noble men, working tirelessly to help a new generation of lawbreakers," said Fred solemnly.
"Right," said George briskly. "Don't forget to wipe it after you've used it —"
"— or anyone can read it," Fred said warningly.
"Just tap it again and say, 'Mischief managed!' And it'll go blank."
"So, young James, Harry," said Fred, in an uncanny impersonation of Percy, "mind you both behave yourselves."
"See you both in Honeydukes," said George, winking.
They left the room, both smirking in a satisfied sort of way.
James stood there, gazing at the miraculous map. She watched the tiny ink Mrs. Norris turn left and pause to sniff at something on the floor. If Filch really didn't know… she wouldn't have to pass the Dementors at all…
But even as she stood there, flooded with excitement, something James had once heard Mr. Weasley say came floating out of his memory.
Never trust anything that can think for itself, if you can't see where it keeps its brain. This map was one of those dangerous magical objects Mr. Weasley had been warning against… Aids for Magical Mischief Makers… but then, James reasoned, she only wanted to use it to get into Hogsmeade, it wasn't as though she wanted to steal anything or attack anyone… and Fred and George had been using it for years without anything horrible happening…
Harry traced the secret passage to Honeydukes with his finger. James and Harry locked eyes before smirking.
Then, quite suddenly, as though following orders, she rolled up the map, stuffed it inside her robes, and hurried to the door of the classroom. She opened it a couple of inches. There was no one outside. Very carefully, she edged out of the room and behind the statue of the one-eyed witch.
What did she have to do? She pulled out the map again and saw to her astonishment, that a new ink figure had appeared upon it, labeled 'James Black'. This figure was standing exactly where the real James was standing, about halfway down the third-floor corridor 'Harry Potter' was standing right next to her too. Harry watched carefully. His little Ink self appeared to be tapping the witch with his minute wand. Harry quickly took out his real wand and tapped the statue. Nothing happened. He looked back at the map. The tiniest speech bubble had appeared next to his figure. The word inside said, 'Dissendium.'
"Dissendium!" Harry whispered, tapping the stone witch again.
At once, the statue's hump opened wide enough to admit a fairly thin person. James glanced quickly up and down the corridor, then tucked the map away again, hoisted herself into the hole headfirst, and pushed herself forward.
She slid a considerable way down what felt like a stone slide, then landed on cold, damp earth. She stood up, looking around. It was pitch dark. She held up her wand, muttered, "Lumos!" and saw that she was in a very narrow, low, earthy passageway. She raised the map, tapped it with the tip of her wand, and muttered, "Mischief managed!" The map went blank at once. She folded it carefully, tucked it inside her robes, then, heart beating fast, both excited and apprehensive, she set off Harry right behind her.
The passage twisted and turned, more like the burrow of a giant rabbit than anything else. Harry hurried along it, stumbling now and then on the uneven floor, holding his wand out in front of him.
It took ages, but James had the thought of Honeydukes to sustain her. After what felt like an hour, the passage began to rise. Panting, Harry sped up, right in front of James.
Ten minutes later, they came to the foot of some worn stone steps, which rose out of sight above them. Careful not to make any noise, Harry and James began to climb. A hundred steps, two hundred steps, they lost count as they climbed, watching their feet… then, without warning, Harry's head hit something hard and James couldn't stop a giggle or two.
It seemed to be a trapdoor. Harry stood there, massaging the top of his head, listening. James couldn't hear any sounds above them. Very slowly, Harry pushed the trapdoor open and they peered over the edge.
They were in a cellar, which was full of wooden crates and boxes. James climbed out of the trapdoor after Harry and replaced it — it blended so perfectly with the dusty floor that it was impossible to tell it was there. Harry crept slowly toward the wooden staircase that led upstairs. Now he could definitely hear voices, not to mention the tinkle of a bell and the opening and shutting of a door. James quickly cast a transfiguration on herself so that now she was a curly haired blond with blue eyes. Harry taking the hint changed himself as well, he just couldn't get rid of the scar so he kept his hair long.
Wondering what she ought to do, she suddenly heard a door open much closer at hand; somebody was about to come downstairs.
"And get another box of Jelly Slugs, dear, they've nearly cleaned us out —" said a woman's voice.
A pair of feet was coming down the staircase. They leapt behind an enormous crate and waited for the footsteps to pass. James heard the man shifting boxes against the opposite wall. They might not get another chance —
Quickly and silently, They dodged out from their hiding place and climbed the stairs; looking back, James saw an enormous backside and shiny bald head, buried in a box. Harry reached the door at the top of the stairs, slipped through it James right behind him, and found there selves behind the counter of Honeydukes — they ducked, crept sideways, and then straightened up.
Honeydukes was so crowded with Hogwarts students that no one looked twice at them
James edged among them, looking around, and suppressed a laugh as she imagined the look that would spread over Dudley's piggy face if he could see where James was now.
There were shelves upon shelves of the most succulent-looking sweets imaginable. Creamy chunks of nougat, shimmering pink squares of coconut ice, fat, honey-colored toffees; hundreds of different kinds of chocolate in neat rows; there was a large barrel of Every Flavor Beans, and another of Fizzing Whizbees, the levitating sherbet balls that Ron had mentioned; along yet another wall were 'Special Effects' — sweets: Droobles Best Blowing Gum (which filled a room with bluebell-colored bubbles that refused to pop for days), the strange, splintery Toothflossing Stringmints, tiny black Pepper Imps ('breathe fire for your friends!'), Ice Mice ('hear your teeth chatter and squeak!'), peppermint creams shaped like toads ('hop realistically in the stomach!'), fragile sugar-spun quills, and exploding bonbons.
James squeezed herself through a crowd of sixth years and saw a sign hanging in the farthest corner of the shop (UNUSUAL TASTES). Ron and Hermione were standing underneath it, examining a tray of blood-flavored lollipops. They sneaked up behind them.
"Ugh, no, Harry won't want one of those, they're for vampires, I expect, James might like it though, you never know…" Hermione was saying in a joking manner.
"How about these?" said Ron, shoving a jar of Cockroach Clusters under Hermione's nose.
"Definitely not," said Harry and James in a perfect impression of the Weasley Twins smirks included.
Ron nearly dropped the jar.
"Who are you two?" Ron asked rudely and Harry and James smirked widely.
"Don't recognize us mate?" They said in unison again and Harry flashed them his scar.
"Harry! James!" Hermione squealed."What are you doing here? How — how did you —?"
"Wow!" said Ron, looking very impressed, "you've learned to Apparate!"
James snorted and slung a hand over Harry's shoulder who was smirking.
"'Course we haven't," said Harry. He dropped his voice so that none of the sixth years could hear him and told them all about the Marauder's Map.
"How come Fred and George never gave it tome!" said Ron, outraged. "I'm their brother!"
"But Harry isn't going to keep it!" said Hermione, as though the idea were ludicrous. "He's going to hand it in to Professor McGonagall, aren't you, Harry?"
James snorted, she was the one with the map, why did they keep saying Harry wasn't going to keep it.
"No, I'm not!" said Harry winking at James who giggled.
"Are you mad?" said Ron, goggling at Hermione. "Hand in something that good?"
"If I hand it in, I'll have to say where I got it! Filch would know Fred and George had nicked it!"
"But what about Sirius Black?" Hermione hissed. "He could be using one of the passages on that map to get into the castle! The teachers have got to know!"
"He can't be getting in through a passage," said Harry quickly. "There are seven secret tunnels on the map, right? Fred and George reckon Filch already knows about four of them. And of the other three — one of them's caved in, so no one can get through it. One of them's got the Whomping Willow planted over the entrance, so you can't get out of it. And the one we just came through — well — it's really hard to see the entrance to it down in the cellar — so unless he knew it was there —"
Harry hesitated. What if Black did know the passage was there? Ron, however, cleared his throat significantly, and pointed to a notice pasted on the inside of the sweetshop door.
BY ORDER OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC
Customers are reminded that until further notice, Dementors will be patrolling the streets of Hogsmeade every night after sundown. This measure has been put in place for the safety of Hogsmeade residents and will be lifted upon the recapture of Sirius Black. It is therefore advisable that you complete your shopping well before nightfall.
Happy Christmas!
"See?" said Ron quietly. "I'd like to see Black try and break into Honeydukes with Dementors swarming all over the village. Anyway, Hermione, the Honeydukes owners would hear a break-in, wouldn't they? They live over the shop!"
"Yes, but — but —" Heroine seemed to be struggling to find another problem. "Look, Harry still shouldn't be coming into Hogsmeade. He hasn't got a signed form! If anyone finds out, he'll be in so much trouble! And it's not nightfall yet — what if Sirius Black turns up today? Now?"
"He'd have a job spotting Harry in this," said Ron, nodding through the mullioned windows at the thick, swirling snow. "Come on, Hermione, it's Christmas. They deserve a break."
Hermione bit her lip, looking extremely worried.
"Are you going to report us?" James asked her, grinning.
"Oh — of course not — but honestly, James —"
"Seen the Fizzing Whizbees, Harry, James?" said Ron, grabbing them and leading them over to their barrel. "And the Jelly Slugs? And the Acid Pops? Fred gave me one of those when I was seven — it burnt a hole right through my tongue. I remember Mum walloping him with her broomstick." Ron stared broodingly into the Acid Pop box. "Reckon Fred'd take a bite of Cockroach Cluster if I told him they were peanuts?"
When Ron and Hermione had paid for all their sweets, James had gotten a lot of chocolate too; the four of them left Honeydukes for the blizzard outside.
Hogsmeade looked like a Christmas card; the little thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow; there were holly wreaths on the doors and strings of enchanted candles hanging in the trees.
James shivered; unlike the other two, she and Harry didn't have their cloaks. They headed up the street, heads bowed against the wind, Ron and Hermione shouting through their scarves.
"That's the post office —"
"Zonko's is up there —"
"We could go up to the Shrieking Shack —"
"Tell you what," said Ron, his teeth chattering, "shall we go for a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks?"
James was more than willing; the wind was fierce and her hands were freezing, so they crossed the road, and in a few minutes were entering the tiny inn.
It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm, and smoky. A curvy sort of woman with a pretty face was serving a bunch of rowdy warlocks up at the bar.
"That's Madam Rosmerta," said Ron. "I'll get the drinks, shall I?" he added, going slightly red.
James, Harry, and Hermione made their way to the back of the room, where there was a small, vacant table between the window and a handsome Christmas tree, which stood next to the fireplace. Ron came back five minutes later, carrying four foaming tankards of hot butterbeer.
"Happy Christmas!" he said happily, raising his tankard.
James drank deeply. It was the most delicious thing she'd ever tasted and seemed to heat every bit of her from the inside. She quickly ate a piece of chocolate as well.
A sudden breeze ruffled her hair. The door of the Three Broomsticks had opened again. James looked over the rim of her tankard and choked. If anyone could tell she and Harry had transfigured hair and eyes it would be them.
Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had just entered the pub with a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with a portly man in a lime-green bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak — Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.
In an instant, Ron and Hermione had both placed hands on the top of Harry's and James's heads and forced them off their stool and under the table. Dripping with butterbeer and crouching out of sight, James clutched her empty tankard and watched the teachers' and Fudge's feet move toward the bar, pause, then turn and walk right toward them.
Somewhere above them, Hermione whispered, "Mobiliarbus!"
The Christmas tree beside their table rose a few inches off the ground, drifted sideways, and landed with a soft thump right in front of their table, hiding them from view.
Staring through the dense lower branches, James saw four sets of chair legs move back from the table right beside theirs, then heard the grunts and sighs of the teachers and minister as they sat down.
Next she saw another pair of feet, wearing sparkly turquoise high heels, and heard a woman's voice.
"A small gillywater —"
"Mine," said Professor McGonagall's voice.
"Four pints of mulled mead —"
"Ta, Rosmerta," said Hagrid.
"A cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella —"
"Mmm!" said Professor Flitwick, smacking his lips. James had to admit it sounded good and promptly slapped herself for even thinking about that at a time like this.
"So you'll be the red currant rum, Minister."
"Thank you, Rosmerta, m'dear," said Fudge's voice. "Lovely to see you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won't you? Come and join us…"
"Well, thank you very much, Minister."
James watched the glittering heels march away and back again. Her heart was pounding uncomfortably in her throat. Why hadn't it occurred to her that this was the last weekend of term for the teachers too? And how long were they going to sit there? They needed time to sneak back into Honeydukes if they wanted to return to school tonight… Hermione's leg gave a nervous twitch next to Harry.
"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?" came Madam Rosmerta's voice.
James saw the lower part of Fudge's thick body twist in his chair as though he were checking for eavesdroppers. Then he said in a quiet voice, "What else, m'dear, but Sirius Black? I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Halloween?"
"I did hear a rumor," admitted Madam Rosmerta.
"Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?" said Professor McGonagall exasperatedly.
"Do you think Black's still in the area, Minister?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.
"I'm sure of it," said Fudge shortly.
"You know that the Dementors have searched the whole village twice?" said Madam Rosmerta, a slight edge to her voice. "Scared all my customers away… It's very bad for business, Minister."
"Rosmerta, dear, I don't like them any more than you do," said Fudge uncomfortably. "Necessary precaution… unfortunate, but there you are… I've just met some of them. They're in a fury against Dumbledore — he won't let them inside the castle grounds."
"I should think not," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?"
"Hear, hear!" squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick, whose feet were dangling a foot from the ground.
"All the same," demurred Fudge, "they are here to protect you all from something much worse…We all know what Black's capable of…"
"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," said Madam Rosmerta thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought…I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead. I still think you've had too much mead, he came here with his daughter once, too, never saw a prouder father."
"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," said Fudge gruffly. "The worst he did isn't widely known."
"The worst?" said Madam Rosmerta, her voice alive with curiosity. "Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?"
"I certainly do," said Fudge.
"I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?"
"You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," murmured Professor McGonagall. "Do you remember who his best friend was who his brother-in-law was?"
"Naturally," said Madam Rosmerta, with a small laugh. "Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here — ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!"
James head spun and her heart sped up.
"Precisely," said Professor McGonagall. "Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course — exceptionally bright, in fact — but I don't think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers —"
"I dunno," chuckled Hagrid. "Fred and George Weasley could give 'em a run fer their money. James is takin aftar 'er father in his pranking way."
"You'd have thought Black and Potter were twins!" chimed in Professor Flitwick. "Inseparable!"
"Of course they were," said Fudge. "Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends, I mean the man was married to Potter's wife's sister. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily and vice versa. Then they named him godfather to Harry. Potter was named godfather of James for obvious reasons."
"Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.
"Worse even than that, m'dear…" Fudge dropped his voice and proceeded in a sort of low rumble. "Not many people are aware that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm."
"How does that work?" said Madam Rosmerta, breathless with interest. Professor Flitwick cleared his throat. James insides had frozen and she wasn't breathing.
"An immensely complex spell," he said squeakily, "involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find — unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. As long as the Secret-Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Lily and James were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nose pressed against their sitting room window!"
"So Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.
"Naturally," said Professor McGonagall. "James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself with Violet and James… and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters' Secret-Keeper himself."
"He suspected Black?" gasped Madam Rosmerta.
"He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements," said Professor McGonagall darkly. "Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who."
"But James Potter insisted on using Black?"
"Of course he did," said Fudge heavily. "And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed —"
"Black betrayed them?" breathed Madam Rosmerta. James heart skipped a beat and James felt like she couldn't breath, oh wait she wasn't breathing.
"He did indeed. Black was tired of his double-agent role, he was ready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and he seems to have planned this for the moment of the Potters' death, Violet and James wasn't even in his mind then were they? But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Harry Potter. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed. His master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colors as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it —"
"Filthy, stinkin' turncoat!" Hagrid said, so loudly that half the bar went quiet. James felt hot tears run down her face, how could he? She would rather die than betray Harry, was this trait from her mother then?
"Shh!" said Professor McGonagall.
"I met him!" growled Hagrid. "I musta bin one of teh last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me what rescued Harry from Lily an' James's house after they was killed! Jus' got him outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across his forehead, an' his parents dead… an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' motorbike he used ter ride with lil James. Never occurred ter me what he was doin' there. I didn' know he'd bin Lily an' James's Secret-Keeper. Thought he'd jus' heard the news o' You-Know-Who's attack an' come ter see what he could do. White an' shakin', he was. An' yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN' TRAITOR!" Hagrid roared. James flinched and she made no move to look at Harry.
"Hagrid, please!" said Professor McGonagall. "Keep your voice down!"
"How was I ter know he wasn' upset abou' Lily an' James? It was You-Know-Who he cared abou'! An' then he says, 'Give Harry ter me, Hagrid, I'm his godfather, I'll look after him —' Ha! But I'd had me orders from Dumbledore, an' I told Black no, Dumbledore said Harry was ter go ter his aunt an' uncle's. Black argued, but in the end he gave in. Told me ter take his motorbike ter get Harry there. 'I won't need it anymore,' he says. Also gave me James, poor wittle thang she was. I shoulda known there was somethin' fishy goin' on then. He loved that motorbike and James, what was he givin' her and it ter me for? Why wouldn' he need it anymore? Fact was, it was too easy ter trace and James would be in the way. Dumbledore knew he'd bin the Potters' Secret-Keeper. Black knew he was goin' ter have ter run fer it that night, knew it was a matter o' hours before the Ministry was after him. But what if I'd given Harry to him, eh? I bet he'd've pitched him off the bike halfway out ter sea. His bes' friends' son! But when a wizard goes over ter the Dark Side, there's nothin' and no one that matters to em anymore…"
A long silence followed Hagrid's story. Then Madam Rosmerta said with some satisfaction, "But he didn't manage to disappear, did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!"
"Alas, if only we had," said Fudge bitterly. "It was not we who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew —another of the Potters' friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper, he went after Black himself."
"Pettigrew… that fat little boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?" said Madam Rosmerta.
"Hero — worshipped Black and Potter, kissed the ground Violet Evan's walked on," said Professor McGonagall. "Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rather sharp with him. You can imagine how I — how I regret that now…" She sounded as though she had a sudden head cold.
"There, now, Minerva," said Fudge kindly, "Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eyewitnesses — Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later — told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing, 'Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?' And then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens…"
Professor McGonagall blew her nose and said thickly, "Stupid boy… foolish boy… he was always hopeless at dueling… should have left it to the Ministry…"
"I tell yeh, if I'd got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn't've messed around with wands — I'd 've ripped him limb — from — limb," Hagrid growled.
"You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid," said Fudge sharply. "Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after Black murdered all those people. I — I will never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street, so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggles screaming. And Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him… a heap of bloodstained robes and a few — a few fragments —a finger."
Fudge's voice stopped abruptly. There was the sound of five noses being blown.
"Well, there you have it, Rosmerta," said Fudge thickly. "Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Black's been in Azkaban ever since. Harry and James living with Lily and Violet's sister and her husband and son."
Madam Rosmerta let out a long sigh.
"Is it true he's mad, Minister?"
"I wish I could say that he was," said Fudge slowly. "I certainly believe his master's defeat unhinged him for a while. It was even worse when we told him about Violet and James. The murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man — cruel… pointless. Yet I met Black on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark; there's no sense in them… but I was shocked at how normal Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought he was merely bored — asked if I'd finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the Dementors seemed to be having on him — and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know. Dementors outside his door day and night."
"But what do you think he's broken out to do?" said Madam Rosmerta. "Good gracious, Minister, he isn't trying to rejoin You-Know-Who, is he?"
"I daresay that is his — er — eventual plan, James is his main target it seems, misses his daughter," said Fudge evasively. "But we hope to catch Black long before that. I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing… but give him back his most devoted servant, and I shudder to think how quickly he'll rise again…"
There was a small chink of glass on wood. Someone had set down their glass. James felt her heart skip another beat, why was her father like this?
"You know, Cornelius, if you're dining with the headmaster, we'd better head back up to the castle," said Professor McGonagall.
One by one, the pairs of feet in front of James took the weight of their owners once more; hems of cloaks swung into sight, and Madam Rosmerta's glittering heels disappeared behind the bar. The door of the Three Broomsticks opened again, there was another flurry of snow, and the teachers had disappeared.
"Harry? James?"
Ron's and Hermione's faces appeared under the table. They were both staring at them, lost for words. James looked at Harry to his face, a haunted look in his eye's and James she just cried.
"Get away from me…" Harry whispered his eyes hardening as he gazed at James.
"H…Harry-" James tried to say something but Harry wouldn't have it.
"Get. Away. From. Me." Harry bit out viciously and James felt her heart break before she broke into sobs and she dashed out of the three broomsticks and down Honeyduke's cellar. Her mind racing and her heart throbbing painfully, why did Harry do this? Why to her? James sobbed all the way to Gryffindor tower before seeing Fred and George on the couch the two caught her as she came by and held her in a hug as she sobbed. She would tell them later when she would refuse to go down for dinner what she heard and she wouldn't be rejected by the twins who would glare at Harry whenever they saw him.
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So whatcha think? Good, bad, horrible, awe inspiring? Too much? Well review!
KrisxCross out!~~