Disclaimer/ Author's Note: I do believe that I owe you old chaps an update... TA DA!Again, this is a lot like the book . I'm sorry, I will eventually get round to writing my own material again soon. I don't know when my next update will be, ever since I finished college for the summer my time has gone all wibbly wobbly.
My Beta (Sam) had left me for a while, she's gone on holiday to what I can only presume is a muddy field (I think she's gone camping anyway) in which case, she might as well have stayed on Canvey Island. Also, I'm sorry if I rattle on about Hedgehogs in the future, I'm trying to convince my mum to let me get one next year -_- not working.

I'd like to thank Sam for giving this a quick proof-read before she hastily departed and I'd also like to thank Narisse who has read through this for me and corrected my appalling grammar and spelling. She also added/ changed content to the story, so if there's anything truly amazing in here it's her you have to thank xD

Meeting Padfoot

'Oi!' John jogged to catch up with Harry, Ron and Hermione, who were just walking past Dervish and Banges. 'Sherlock asked if you guys could wait up.'

'Where is he?' Ron looked around for him with a slightly bemused expression. 'He's not going to jump out of nowhere and attack us, is he?'

'He's over there.' John pointed at the figure strolling past Honeydukes, a bag slung over his shoulder. 'I ran ahead to catch up, but he's more intent on going at his own pace.'

'I thought you two would be with Mary and Molly.' Hermione stated.

'We want to meet Padfoot.' Sherlock said, stopping short in front of the group.

'Padfoot?' Harry stared, astonished, at Sherlock. 'How do you –?'

'John told me that you talk in your sleep. Padfoot… a dog… dogs have padded feet… Sirius… put two and two together, Harry, it's not rocket science.' Sherlock's eyes twinkled mischievously as he shook his head in amusement and scorn. Sherlock continued walking down the road. 'Come on then.' He called over his shoulder. 'Can't keep Uncle Pads waiting; he's bursting to see you, Harry.'

After sharing half confused, half exasperated looks, Harry, Ron and Hermione followed Sherlock and John down the road towards the Stile.

They were met by the wild countryside as they walked out of Hogsmeade. They followed the winding path towards the foot of the mountains, which cast a huge shadow over the village of Hogsmeade. As they approached the Stile, a small, black figure came into focus. The black, shaggy dog rested his front paws on the topmost bar, his tail wagging frantically. He also had newspapers clamped in his mouth.

'Hello, Sirius.' Harry greeted the dog with a pat on the head and a scratch behind the ear. The dog caught sight of Sherlock and John, and began to growl with his hackles raised. 'No! Sirius, they're okay! They're friends.' Harry soothed the dog, which cast Sherlock and John a passing look. Apparently trusting Harry's word, the dog turned away from them and began to trot across the ground and up the rocky foot of the mountain. Sherlock, John, Harry, Ron and Hermione followed the dog high up the mountain, it wasn't long before they were out of breath and the muscles in their arms and legs began to ache.

They finally came to rest in a small, cool, dimly lit cave. With six people and a hippogriff in such a small space, a claustrophobic feeling hung over them. Each of the teenagers bowed to the grey hippogriff, who bowed back and permitted Hermione and John to approach him and stroke his feathers.

'I did wonder where he got off to… Buckbeak, isn't it?' John voiced as he stroked the half giant eagle, half horse. Sherlock nodded. Then turned his attention to the dog, which was now the man he recognised to be Sirius Black.

The ragged clothes he wore didn't do much to help his complexion. He was skinny, he's eyes were gaunt and his ghostly face was framed by dark matted, filthy hair.

'Chicken!' Sirius's voice was hoarse from lack of use. He threw the Daily Prophets onto the floor beside him. Harry opened his bag and gave Sirius the chicken and bread along with a flask of Pumpkin Juice that he had retrieved from the depths of his bag.

'I picked up a few things for you,' Sherlock said, opening the bag that he had brought with him. He withdrew three boxes from the bag; one had a piece of strawberry cheesecake, the second had six chocolate éclairs within it and the third contained an assortment of sandwiches, Sherlock also took three bottles of Butterbeer, a Honeydukes chocolate bar and bottle full of orange juice. 'Better than nothing,' Sherlock shrugged, acknowledging the flabbergasted appearance upon Sirius's face.

'Thanks, so... what are your names?' Sirius smiled gratefully at the teens and indicated to Sherlock and John before he sat down on the floor and began eating the chicken. Sherlock didn't answer, but studied Sirius, the cave, the hippogriff and everything around him. John cast a quick, exasperated look at Sherlock before answering, 'I'm John Watson, and my frien—colleague is Sherlock Holmes. We became friends with these three,' he gestured to Harry, Ron and Hermione, 'after Sherlock... well figured out that you were innocent and Harry was in contact with you... he does that kind of thing.' John finished somewhat awkwardly. Sirius looked with new surprise and interest at the dark-haired Ravenclaw in the cave with them, but he simply nodded and turned his attention back to the group at large. 'I've been living off of rats mostly. Can't steal too much food from Hogsmeade; I'd draw attention to myself.'

'What're you doing here, Sirius?' Harry frowned slightly.

'Fulfilling my duty as godfather. Don't worry about me; I'm pretending to be a lovable stray.' Sirius gnawed on the chicken bone hungrily before casting it away. He caught sight of Harry's expression. 'I want to be on the spot. Your last letter… well lets just say things are getting fishier. I've been stealing the paper every time someone throws one out, and by the looks of things, I'm not the only one who's getting worried.'

'What if they catch you?' Harry stared at Sirius. 'What if you're seen?'

Feeling awkward, Sherlock picked up one of the yellowing newspapers and read the main article; "Mystery Illness of Bartemius Crouch". Intrigued by the headline, Sherlock continued to read the article; sitting on the ground opposite Sirius.

'You three and Dumbledore are the only ones around here who know I'm an animagus.' Sirius shrugged. 'Well, you five, I guess.'

Sherlock's eyes continued to scan through the article. 'Dear me… "Hasn't been seen in public since November… house appears deserted… St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies decline comment… Ministry refuses to confirm rumours of critical illness…"'

'They make it sound like he's dying.' Harry said slowly, acknowledging the quotations that Sherlock had read out. 'But he can't be that ill if he managed to get up here…'

'Wait… what?' Sherlock looked up from the newspaper to stare at Harry; he wasn't told about this.

'My brother's Crouch's personal assistant.' Ron informed them. 'He says Crouch is suffering from overwork.'

'Mind you, he did look ill, last time I saw him up close.' Harry thought aloud. 'The night my name came out of the Goblet…'

'Getting his comeuppance for sacking Winky, isn't he?' Hermione's voice was cold. 'I bet he wishes he hadn't done it now – bet he feels the difference now that she's not there to look after him.'

'Hermione's obsessed with house-elves.' Ron mumbled to Sirius.

'Obsessed is an understatement.' Sherlock didn't bother to quieten his voice, he knew Hermione would hear it one way or another.

'Crouch sacked his house-elf?' Sirius asked with interest.

'Yeah.' John answered.

'At the Quidditch World Cup.' Harry finished. With help from Ron and Hermione, (and the occasional unhelpful comment from Sherlock; John didn't bother telling him to shut up, he knew he would just be wasting his breath) Harry told Sirius about the incident with the Dark Mark and Winky, the house-elf, at the Quidditch World Cup. By the time they had finished explaining what had happened, Sirius had rose to his feet and started pacing around the small cave.

'Let me get this straight.' Sirius furrowed his brow. 'You first saw the elf in the Top Box. She was saving Crouch a seat, right?'

'Right.' Harry, Ron and Hermione agreed.

'But Crouch didn't turn up for the match?'

'No. I think he said he'd been too busy.' Harry replied.

'Harry, did you check your pockets for your wand after you'd left the Top Box?'

'Erm…' Harry paused for a moment to think. 'No.' said Harry slowly. 'I didn't need to use it before we got in the forest. And then I put my hand in my pocket, and all that was in there were my Omnioculars. Are you saying that whoever conjured the Mark stole my wand in the Top Box?'

Sirius opened his mouth to respond, but Sherlock answered first.

'Most likely. Think about it. You're sitting in the Top Box, everyone around you is engrossed in the Quidditch match and the person sitting in front of you has a wand protruding out of his pocket. If you're going to commit a crime, why use your own wand? Why not use someone else's? Technically, you're still planting the evidence of the crime on the owner of that wand, as long as you're not caught with the wand. All you have to do is reach out and grab it –' Sherlock pretended to take something out of the air. 'No one's going to notice, everyone is to busy watching the Quidditch match to see someone taking a wand out of someone else's pocket.' A vacant expression came over Sherlock's face, followed by silent staring from everyone else in the cave.

'He does that.' John said again, clearing his throat loudly. 'Just leave him, he'll be extremely annoyed if you interrupt his thinking.'

'Winky didn't steal that wand!' Hermione shrieked, jumping to the conclusion that Sherlock suspected Winky.

'The elf wasn't the only one in that box.' Sirius said. 'Who else was sitting behind you?'

'Loads of people.' Harry responded. 'Some Bulgarian ministers… Cornelius Fudge… the Malfoys…'

'The Malfoys!' Ron interjected loudly. Buckbeak tossed his head in an irritable way. 'I bet it was Lucius Malfoy.'

'Anyone else?' Sirius asked.

'No one.' Said Harry.

'Yes, there was, there was Ludo Bagman.' Hermione corrected him.

'Oh yeah…'

'I don't know anything about Bagman, except that he used to be Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps.' Said Sirius thoughtfully. 'What's he like?'

'He's OK.' Harry shrugged. 'He keeps offering to help me with the Triwizard Tournament.'

'Does he now? I wonder why he'd do that?'

'Says he's taken a liking to me.'

'Hmm…'

'We saw him in the forest just before the Dark Mark appeared.' Hermione notified Sirius, she then turned to Harry and Ron. 'Remember?'

'Yeah, but he didn't stay in the forest, did he?' Ron contradicted. 'The moment we told him about the riot, he went off to the campsite.'

'How d'you know?' Hermione argued back. 'How d'you know where he Disapparated to?'

'Come off it!' Ron laughed in disbelief. 'Are you saying you reckon Ludo Bagman conjured the Dark Mark?'

'It's more likely he did it than Winky.' Hermione pouted dismissively.

'Told you.' Ron said, turning his gaze back to Sirius. 'Told you she's obsessed with house –' Sirius held up his hand to silence Ron.

'When the Dark Mark had been conjured,' Sirius gave each of them a meaningful look. 'And the elf had been discovered holding Harry's wand, what did Crouch do?'

'Went to look in the bushes.' Harry replied. 'But there wasn't anyone else there.'

'Of course… of course he'd want to pin it on anyone but his own elf… and then he sacked her?'

'Yes.' Hermione snapped angrily. 'He sacked her, just because she hadn't stayed in her tent and let herself get trampled.'

'Hermione, will you give it a rest with the elf.' Ron expressed though gritted teeth.

'She's got the measure of Crouch better than you have, Ron.' Sirius replied, shaking his head. 'If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals… all these absences of Barty Crouch's…'

'Yes, it is rather suspicious, isn't it?' Sherlock articulated from the ground, picking up the next yellowing newspaper, he held it in his lap and, rather than reading the paper, turned his attention to the conversation. 'And the way he behaved before his illness… definitely not in the right state of mind, is he?'

Sirius nodded at Sherlock in agreement. 'He goes to the trouble of making sure his house-elf saves him a seat at the Quidditch World Cup, but doesn't bother to turn up and watch. He works very hard to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament, and then stops coming to that too… it's not like Crouch. If he's ever taken a day off work because of illness, I'll eat Buckbeak.'

'D'you know Crouch, then?' Harry asked.

Sirius's face darkened and a scowl played across his face. He clenched his fists and began to quiver with anger.

'Barty Crouch was the man who gave the order for Sirius to be sent to Azkaban.' Sherlock spoke from the floor, he glanced up at Sirius. 'Without trial.'

'What?' Hermione gasped.

'You're kidding!' exclaimed Harry.

'That's not fair!' John yelled.

'No he's not kidding.' Sirius smiled grimly at Sherlock. 'Crouch used to be Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Didn't you know?' Sirius turned his attention to John, Harry, Ron and Hermione; they all shook their heads. 'I trust you knew.' Sirius nodded at Sherlock.

Sherlock turned to John, Harry, Ron and Hermione. 'The magical community adored Crouch. He was powerful and his leadership skills were something to be admired.'

'He was never a Voldemort supporter.' Sirius cut in, seeing Harry's anxious expression. 'No, Barty was always very outspoken against the Dark side. But then a lot of people who were against the Dark side… well, you wouldn't understand… you're too young.' Sherlock gave an arrogant snort.

'That's what my dad said at the World Cup.' Huffed Ron, folding his arms tightly over his chest looking disgruntled. 'Try us, why don't you?'

'If you don't we could always get Sherlock to "deduct" it, anyway.' John joked. 'And we won't stop him when he gets carried away.'

'You mean, you won't stop him when he gets carried away.' Hermione laughed. 'We don't know how to stop him.'

'Nor do I.' John confessed.

Sirius grinned. 'That's very tempting.' He cast Sherlock a searching look. 'But I think I'll pass… All right, I'll try you…' He paced around in the small cave for a while. 'Imagine that Voldemort's powerful now. You don't know who his supporters are, you don't know who's working for him; you know that he can control people and make them do terrible things without being able to stop themselves. You're scared for yourself, your family –'

'They can take Mycroft, maybe they'll take his cake away as torture.' Sherlock grumbled. John gave him a "you don't mean that" look.

'- And your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing… the Ministry of Magic is in disarray, they don't know what they're doing, they're trying to keep everything hidden from the Muggles –'

'Nothing new there, then.' Sherlock chuckled lightly.

'- But meanwhile, Muggles are dying too… terror everywhere… panic… confusion, that's how it used to be… well, times like that bring out the best in some people, and the worst in others. Crouch's principles might've been good in the beginning – I wouldn't know. He rose quickly through the Ministry, and started ordering very harsh measures against Voldemort's supporters. The Aurors were given new powers – powers to kill rather than capture, for instance. And I wasn't the only one handed to the dementors without trial. Crouch fought violence with violence, and authorised the use of Unforgivable Curses against suspects. I would say he became as ruthless and cruel as many on the Dark side. He had his supporters, mind you – plenty of people thought that he was going about things the right way, and there were a lot of witches and wizards clamouring for him to take over as Minister for Magic. When Voldemort disappeared, it looked like only a matter of time until Crouch got top job. But then something unfortunate happened…' Sirius smiled grimly again.

'What happened?' John asked when Sirius didn't elaborate.

'Crouch's son was caught.' Sherlock said simply. 'They brought him in with three other of Death Eaters. Trying to find Voldemort and bring him back to power.'

'Crouch's son was caught?' Hermione breathed.

'Yep.' Sirius rejoined as he sat on the ground and picked up the loaf of bread. 'Nasty little shock for old Barty, I'd imagine. Should have spent a bit more time at home with his family, shouldn't he? Ought to have left the office early once in a while… got to know his son.' Sirius tore the loaf of bread in half and hungrily ripped off large chunks with his teeth.

'Was his son a Death Eater?' Harry posed.

'No idea.' Sirius swallowed the mouthful of bread and continued. 'I was in Azkaban myself when he was brought in. This is mostly stuff I've found out since I got out. The boy was definitely caught in the company of people I'd bet my life were Death Eaters– but he might've been in the wrong place at the wrong time, just like that elf.'

'It's possible,' Sherlock thought aloud. 'But very unlikely… Crouch's son; not the elf.' He added, seeing another "Elf Rights" talk from Hermione emerging.

'Did Crouch try and get his son off?' Hermione queried in a low voice. Sirius gave a harsh laugh.

'Crouch let his son off? I thought you had the measure of him, Hermione? Anything that threatened to tarnish his reputation had to go; he had dedicated his whole life to becoming Minister for Magic. You saw him dismiss a devoted house-elf because she associated him with the Dark Mark again – doesn't that tell you what he's like? Crouch's fatherly affection stretched just far enough to give his son a trial and, by all accounts, it wasn't much more than an excuse for Crouch to show how much he hated the boy… then he sent him straight to Azkaban.'

'He gave his own son to the Dementors?' Asked Harry quietly.

'That's horrible.' John whispered.

'That's right.' Sirius nodded gravely. 'I saw the Dementors bringing him in, watched them through the bars in my cell door. He can't have been more than nineteen. They took him into a cell near mine. He was screaming for his mother by nightfall. He went quiet after a few days, though… they all went quiet in the end… except when they shrieked in their sleep…' Sirius started at the opposite wall for a while, a ghostly expression planted on his face.

'So he's still in Azkaban?' Harry tried to draw Sirius out of his memories, wishing he hadn't seen his Godfather looking so vulnerable.

'No.' Sirius sighed. 'No, he's not in there anymore. He died about a year after he was brought in.'

'He died?' Ron stared at Sirius in shock.

'He wasn't the only one.' Sirius's tone had become sour. 'Most go mad in there, and plenty stop eating in the end. They lose the will to live. You could always tell when a death was coming, because the Dementors could sense it, they got excited. That boy looked pretty sickly when he arrived. Crouch being an important Ministry member, he and his wife were allowed a deathbed visit. That was the last time I saw Barty Crouch, half carrying his wife past my cell. She died herself, apparently, shortly afterwards. Grief. Wasted away just like the boy. Crouch never came for his son's body. The Dementors buried him outside the fortress, I watched them do it. So old Crouch lost it all, just when he thought he had it made. One moment a hero, poised to become Minister for Magic… next, his son dead, his wife dead, the family name dishonoured, and, so I've heard since I escaped, a big drop in popularity. Once the boy had died, people started feeling a bit more sympathetic towards him, and started asking how a nice young lad from a good family had gone so badly astray. The conclusion was that his father never cared much for him. So Cornelius Fudge got the top job, and Crouch was shunted sideways into the Department of International Magical Co-operation.' During the silence that followed, Sirius drained the flask of Pumpkin Juice. Sherlock looked around at his fellow peers; John was avoiding everyone's gaze by fiddling with the lace of his trainers, Hermione stared at Sirius; her face pale and tears welling in her eyes, Harry sat on the floor beside Sherlock in deep thought; that's a first, and Ron pretended to look around the cave in mild curiosity. It was clear that no one was particularly comfortable with the topic.

'Moody says Crouch is obsessed with catching Dark wizards.' Harry said quietly, looking up at Sirius.

'Yeah, I heard it's become a bit of a mania with him.' Sirius nodded. 'If you ask me, he still thinks he can bring back the old popularity by catching one more Death Eater.'

'And he sneaked up here to search Snape's office!' Ron informed Sirius with a triumphant tone in his voice.

'Yes.' Sirius said thoughtfully. 'That doesn't make sense at all.'

'Yeah, it does!' Ron countered excitedly. John saw Sherlock open his mouth to speak; catching the Ravenclaw's eye, John shook his head to silence the other boy. Sherlock closed his mouth and dropped his gaze to the floor with a disappointed expression.

'Listen,' Sirius began, shaking his head at Ron. 'If Crouch wants to investigate Snape, why hasn't he been coming to judge the Tournament? It would be an ideal excuse to make regular visits to Hogwarts and keep an eye on him.'

'So, you think Snape could be up to something?' Harry asked.

'Look, I don't care what you say, Dumbledore trusts Snape –' Hermione started in an aggravated tone.

'Oh, come off it, Hermione.' Ron argued impatiently. 'I know Dumbledore's brilliant and everything, but that doesn't mean a really clever Dark wizard couldn't fool him –'

'Ron, Snape's a school teacher!' John added, supporting Hermione. 'Dumbledore wouldn't hire someone who is going to spend every day around students if they're a potential threat.'

'Oh! You get to add your input!' Sherlock shot at John.

'There's a time and a place, Sherlock! Now's really not it!'

Ron and Hermione had continued their argument over Sherlock and John's.

'Why did Snape save Harry's life in the first year, then?' said Hermione piercingly. 'Why didn't he just let him die?'

'I dunno – maybe he thought Dumbledore would kick him out –' Ron retorted.

Sirius gave the four arguing teens a perplexed look; unsure of who was yelling what at the other.

'What do you think, Sirius?' Harry yelled over the others. Ron, Hermione, Sherlock and John quietened down to listen to Sirius's reply.

'I think Ron, Hermione and John have a point.' Said Sirius. 'I'm have no idea what you were on about.' He gave Sherlock a slightly puzzled stare as he said it, Sherlock shook his head and threw John a disgruntled glance. 'Ever since I found out Snape was teaching here, I've wondered why Dumbledore hired him. Snape's always been fascinated in the Dark Arts, he was famous for it at school. Slimy, oily, greasy-haired kid, he was. Snape knew more curses when he arrived at school than half the kids in seventh year and he was part of a gang of Slytherins who nearly all turned out to be Death Eaters. Rosier and Wilkes – they were both killed by Aurors the year before Voldemort fell.' Sirius held up two fingers and sat in thought for a moment before he held up more fingers, listing more names. 'The Lestranges – they're a married couple – they're in Azkaban. Avery – from what I've heard, he wormed his way out of trouble by saying he'd been acting under the Imperius curse – he's still at large. But as far as I know, Snape was never even accused of being a Death Eater – not that that means much. Plenty of them were never caught. And Snape's certainly clever and cunning enough to keep himself out of trouble.'

'Snape knows Karkaroff pretty well.' Ron pointed out. 'But he wants to keep that quiet.'

'Yeah, you should've seen Snape's face when Karkaroff turned up in Potions yesterday.' Harry added.

'Karkaroff wanted to speak to Snape.' Sherlock said, seeing Sirius's mystified expression. 'He said that Snape had been avoiding him, so he stood behind Snape's desk so Snape couldn't slip away at the end of the lesson.'

'You two mentioned something about Karkaroff showing Snape a mark on his arm.' John reminded them, looking at Harry and Sherlock.

'We couldn't quite see what it was though.' Harry frowned.

'He showed Snape something on his arm?' Sirius looked at each of their faces in bemusement. 'Well, I've no idea what that's about… but if Karkaroff's genuinely worried, and he's going to Snape for answers… then there's still the fact that Dumbledore trusts Snape, and I know Dumbledore trusts where a lot of other people wouldn't, but I can't see him letting Snape teach at Hogwarts if he ever worked for Voldemort.'

'Why are Crouch and Moody so keen to get into Snape's office, then?' Ron argued stubbornly.

'I heard that Moody's paranoid about everything and anything these days.' John said quietly. 'He probably searched every single teacher's office.'

'He takes his Defence Against the Dark Arts seriously, Moody.' Sirius added. 'I'm not sure that he trusts anyone at all, and after the things he's seen, it's not surprising. I'll say this for Moody, though; he never killed if he could help it. Always brought people in alive where possible. He was tough but never descended to the level of the Death Eater. Crouch though… he's a different matter… is he really ill? If he is, why did he make the effort to drag himself up to Snape's office? And if he's not… what's he up to? What was he doing at the World Cup that was so important he didn't turn up in the Top Box? What's he been doing while he should've been judging the Tournament?'

Sirius fell silent, staring at the cave wall again whilst receiving four bewildered looks; Sherlock simply sat in a disgruntled silence. Buckbeak, who had been eating the chicken bones that Sirius had tossed away, was searching for more bones on the ground; his talons scrapping the ground were the only sound that could be heard.

'If Percy is Crouch's assistant, could we send him a letter?' John suggested. 'Just to ask if he's actually seen Crouch lately. Surely he's receiving instructions from him.'

'We can try.' Ron gave a doubtful shrug. 'We better not make it sound like we think Crouch is up to anything dodgy, though. Percy loves Crouch.'

'Love being the world's biggest understatement.' Sherlock remarked. Hermione threw Sherlock a disapproving look. 'Hermione, we've known each other for four months now. I would've thought that you, of all people, would've learnt that I say it how it is.'

'And sometimes people don't want to hear it.' Hermione snorted reproachfully.

'No, I'm sure people would rather be hurt with the truth rather than flattered with lies.'

'That's not always the case Sher –'

'Will you two pack it in?' Ron chastised them.

'What about Bertha Jorkins?' Sirius brought the youths back to their surroundings. 'Have the Ministry got any leads on her?'

'Bagman told me they hadn't.' Harry confided in the group.

'Bagman's excuse is that she's awfully forgetful.' Sherlock motioned towards the newspaper that he had thrown to one side earlier. John cast the newspaper an interested glance, picked it up and ruffled through the pages.

'I see Fudge is finally involved.' John pointed at the article. 'They should've started looking sooner.'

'Forgetful?' Sirius gave the tabloid a suspicious glare. 'I knew her. She went to school with me, trust me, she was anything but forgetful.'

'She was a bit of a gossip-girl then?' Sherlock enquired.

Sirius scowled faintly. 'Didn't know when to shut up. Got her into a lot of trouble… you lot had better get back up to the school.' Sirius glimpsed at Sherlock's watch. 'It is half past three already.'

They each rose to their feet and stroked Buckbeak's feathers before turning to say goodbye to Sirius.

'Right, I don't want any of you, including you two…' Sirius turned his gaze onto Sherlock and John. 'To sneak out of the school grounds to see me, all right? Just send me notes, I still want to hear if there is anything odd going on… I'll be able to breathe freely when this tournament is over. I'll walk you to the edge of the village.'

Harry led the way out of the cave, followed by Ron, Hermione and John. Sherlock, however, remained where he stood.

'I can tell by your expression,' Sherlock began. 'That was not all of what you wanted to say.'

'Just… look after him, okay.' Sirius replied quietly. 'He's all I have left.'

Sherlock remained expressionless. 'Neither was that. You want to warn us about Death Eaters in Hogwarts. You didn't mention it because you're worried that we'll act illogically and get ourselves in trouble.' Sirius merely stared at Sherlock. 'You have nothing to worry about, Sirius. If anything happens, you have my word that I'll turn to Dumbledore, Moody, or Greg Lestrade.' Sirius nodded; accepting Sherlock spoken contract.

'Are you two coming?' John approached the cave again.

'Right behind you.' Sirius beamed. He then transfigured into a black, bear-like dog and followed Sherlock and John to the bottom of the mountain where Harry, Ron and Hermione stood waiting.