Chapter Nineteen

Charade of a Decade

There are really patterns. It was a revelation, of a kind. Dreams and sand and stories. Deserts and cities and time.

Sandman in Fables and Reflections

Harry spoke to Ron about the Firebolt when he returned from the holidays on their way to Hagrid's hut. Normally Harry wouldn't accompany him, but he was beginning to forget what the sky look liked after being locked in so long.

"I'm glad you're not on the Quidditch team." Ron said.

"Don't worry, I don't think that's going to change, I'm too busy trying to keep afloat with my studies. Besides, if I ever get it back you'll be welcome to give it a fly once and a while."

"That would be nice, being in the Common Room is a pain lately. Hermione has been in an awful mood because she has so much homework. And do you remember that cat she bought over the summer? She won't even keep an eye on the thing. I keep finding it climbing up our stairs, it has its eye on Scabbers. He's in bad health and now I have to watch out that he isn't eaten." Ron vexed.

"Why don't you take him with you when you aren't around. He sleeps most of the time anyway, and you don't have to worry about finding a pile of fur on your bed one day." Harry reasoned.

Ron nodded. "You know I just might do that. Pity we can't find a solution for Buckbeak."

They had arrived and Ron knocked on the door and stepped inside.

Hagrid was seated at a large table, and he was blowing his nose on a tablecloth. He looked surprised by Harry's presence, but didn't say anything. Instead, he served them a cup of tea, explaining how Mr. Malfoy had managed to use his position on the Board of Governors in order to demand the hippogriff's execution in three days. Ron tried to comfort him, but Harry felt uncomfortable in the room, the man was weeping over an animal. Harry wasn't moved, things die all the time. Surely a grown man like Hagrid should know that. Harry wondered how Tom Riddle managed to convince people that someone as... soft as Hagrid could open the Chamber of Secrets. He resisted the urge to go ask the diary himself. Exasperated over the fuss, he searched his mind for a solution, remembering the pouch in his trunk.

"I have some sleeping powder. If you want I can put some over Buckbeak. I may not be able to save him, but at least he won't know what's happening. He'll be sound asleep, dreaming of wide skies and all that." Harry tried to keep the annoyance from his voice.

Hagrid looked up from the table, his voice gruffy. "You'd do that? That'd be somethin'." He honked his nose loudly and thanked Harry.

Unfortunately, the hippogriff situation did not end there as Draco became intolerable the next few days. Harry found himself resisting the urge to strangle him. Really, he hadn't had the urge to kill anyone in a long time, but Draco managed to awake his dormant visions of blood. The last class before the hippogriff's execution was Herbolgy in which Draco did a parody of a weeping Hagrid over some Envy Vine. Harry had to dart out of Herbology as soon it was over, heading for the hut in the distance. He knew the teachers would disapprove of Harry being by himself, but really it was for the best. He had come very close to shoving his fellow classmate into some Venomous Tentacula.

Arriving at the hut, he took a deep breath of crisp cold air, hearing a snap of a twig. The stray dog was emerging from the Forbidden Forest once more, looking pathetic in the cold. It loped over to Harry, and he gave it a pat on the head. Then the dog's head twitched and it took off in a mad dash towards the forest. Perplexed, Harry adjusted the strap of his bag, and heard what had caused the dogs alarm. He saw some men approaching the hut, and Harry could make out distinctive blonde hair and Dumbledore's long beard, and a shining axe. The execution party was here.

Harry hastily reached into his bag; he didn't want Hagrid to see him, lest he turn to Harry for emotional support. Withdrawing the pouch he took out a handful of red sand, and threw it on the hippogriff which had been chained outside. It flapped its wings powerfully, then swayed and thumped on the ground unconscious.

"What was that noise?" someone asked.

Swearing, Harry darted into the forest as well, he didn't feel like being chastised by Dumbledore for being alone while Black was free. He hid behind a tree and put on his Cloak just in case. Five people emerged from the side of the hut, Dumbledore, Mr. Malfoy, Hagrid, Minister Fudge (who Harry recognized from his numerous press photos), and the executioner.

"I believe it was the hippogriff, MacNair. Well, at least the creature won't give you troubles," Malfoy said.

"Yes, well it's best if we just get on with it. All the paperwork has been signed already, and we still need to discuss the Black issue." Fudge rubbed his gloved hands together as he spoke. Harry felt a pang of pity for the animal as MacNair raised his axe, keeping his eyes on it despite the oncoming blow.

The hippogriff snorted, twitched its wings, and rolled in its sleep causing MacNair to miss the throat, instead hitting the chain. It broke the shackle with a loud clang and the hippogriff awoke. It got to its feet quickly, stepping back, realizing it was free. Turning it took several large leaps, spread its wings and flew away before MacNair had removed the axe from the ground. The others looked at the hippogriff fly away in amazement, Malfoy was furious, but Hagrid was sobbing and waving a goodbye.

"How did it get free?" Malfoy demanded to MacNair.

"It's the spell place on the axe that way it only takes one swipe. It cut right through the chain." MacNair looked quite embarrassed and angry. Dumbledore looked quite cheerful.

"Ah, well, perhaps some creatures aren't to be tamed. Minister, I believed we have some things to discuss." The Minister nodded and they left the hut, Harry followed them, far enough behind so they couldn't see him.

The entrance hall was empty, but he could here some muffled voices coming from the stairs off to the side. The Gryffindor's were coming back from their Divination class. Ron and Hermione were arguing as usual, with the others giving each other looks of annoyance, clearly they had been at it for a while.

"I don't know why you're so proud of yourself. It's obvious that Divination is the most useless subject in existence!" Hermione screeched. Parvati and Lavender made disgruntled faces behind her back.

"You just don't like admitting that you're bad at something for once," Ron retorted.

"No, I simply don't know what people see in Divination. None of it's real," she said impatiently. Harry thought she was doing a lovely impression of McGonagall on Christmas.

"You need to broaden your horizons Hermione. Some of it might be."

"Shut up, Harry," she snapped. Her hair was in messy and frizzed, the bag slung over her shoulder was filled with books, and she was still clutching three more in her arms. He vaguely remembered Ron mentioning she had signed up for all of the classes. It was clear that the stress was getting to her.

"First of all, you don't take Divination, so you can't see what a fraud Trelawny is." Harry blinked at her.

"Um, alright. I don't see why you just don't drop the class, it's obvious that you hate it."

"I can't do that! I'm going to drop it at the end of the year."

"You should do us the favor and do it today, you're irritating" Harry replied tersely. Hermione's jaw dropped open for a second, before she steeled herself, her jaw set in defiance as she raised her head.

"Fine, I'll drop it the minute the first prediction said in class comes true. Go ahead Ron, prove to Harry what a wonderful thing Divination is. Tell him what you predicted today." Her eyes had become teary towards the end.

"Well," Ron said sheepishly. "Trelawny is a fan of tragedy, Hermione's right in that she makes things up. If any of your predictions are full of bad luck and misery, she laps it up. And today she was talking about death in the air, and I knew she was talking about Buckbeak. It was turn to say what I saw in the crystal globe, and the last time I told her there was going to be a lot of fog she wasn't pleased. So I just made up some sort of story how Buckbeak was going to be freed from his chains and make a grand escape with everyone watching on the ground." Harry's jaw dropped open.

Ron misinterpreted his shock and spoke hastily. "I know that was horrible of me to say, but really you wouldn't have let her go on like that either Harry. "

Harry shook his head. "But Buckbeak did escape, it happened about fifteen minutes ago." Lavender gave a gasp, and he could hear Hermione sputtering. Harry stuffed his hands into his pockets, and connected with the pouch. An question springing to mind, he waved the Gryffindor's a hasty goodbye. He could hear Dean and Ron telling her to march over to McGonagall's as he headed toward's Lupin's office.

"Come in." Harry darted into the office and saw that Lupin was grading some essays.

"Professor Lupin, I was hoping you would take a look at something." Harry pulled out the drawstring bag from his pocket placing it on the desk. Perhaps it was more than sleeping powder?

"I found this in my trunk last year, after my attack. I don't know why I have it, I couldn't remember, and I sort of forgot about it. But I was cleaning my trunk after Christmas and I found it again. I thought it might have been sleeping powder, so I kept it. But now I'm not so sure."

Lupin gave Harry a questioning glance, before settling himself in his chair and pulled the bag forward."All right, I'll have a look." He pulled the pouch forward, and opened it, pausing his hand before reaching in, and giving Harry an amused look. "I think you brought me the wrong bag Harry, there's nothing in here.

"What? No, I don't have another pouches. I used it all?" He snapped the object from Lupin's hands and opened it. The red sand sparkled from inside. "Professor, it's still in here." He looked up wonderingly at Lupin, who was giving the bag an intense look.

"I imagine there's an enchantment on the bag so you are the only one who can retrieve items from it. Moleskin bags have similar attributes. Can you show me some of this sand?" Harry nodded and took out a handful, placing it gently in Lupin's hands. It shimmered in his hands before turning into a cool mist and disappearing. It smelled like a storm was coming. Lupin raised an eyebrow.

"Well, Harry I can tell you that this is no ordinary sleeping powder. I can consult the other teachers if you would like, perhaps Professor Dumbledore would have a better idea of what it is." Harry shook his head.

"No thank you sir, I don't want to bother him over something like this. I'm sure he's a very busy person."

And with that he left.

The next Friday meeting Hermione told everyone that she had dropped Muggle Studies and Divination, much to everyone's relief. It turns out that she had subjected everyone to her bad moods. She also confessed to everyone how she got to the classes as well.

"I used an object called a time turner. Professor McGonagall had to write loads of letters over the summer so I could have one to get to classes. She said I was a model student and I wouldn't use it for anything else or tell anyone. But now that I dropped the classes I have a normal schedule so I don't have it anymore. And they never said I couldn't tell you now." She said with a sly smile.

"Wow, what was it like?" Terry asked enviously.

"It was confusing. Keeping track of everything was a nightmare, honestly. But the time-turner was easy to use. It was small, and I wore it like a necklace. It looked like an hourglass filled with sand and with just a few twists I went back in time," she explained.

Harry's breath caught when she said sand.

O

Remus Lupin dreamed.

It was an odd sort of dream, in that he knew that he was actually asleep. He was standing in a street and before him he could see Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. They were arguing loudly, but Remus couldn't understand the words they were saying, only the emotion behind them. Then Peter turned into a rat and Sirius turned into a dog. Then a man with a large axe walked into the street, Remus recognized him as the Walden MacNair, the man who failed to kill Hagrid's hippogriff. He picked up his axe and walked over to the Sirius-dog and cut off his head.

Then Peter-rat scuttled over the body and turned back into a person, and he picked up Sirius' head and handed it to the exocutioner. MacNair nodded and Apparated away. Peter then took out his wand and blew up the street. There was a giant hole in the street, and a manticore came out from it, and the Muggles were screaming everywhere, and one of the Muggles was actually Ron Weasley. Ron took out his wand and cried out a spell, the manticore was a boggart, and shifted into the fallen form of Harry Potter.

He was dead on the street, his arms looked broken and no one was cheering for Ron, who was given an Order of Merlin. Confetti was tossed in the air, and they shifted and shaped into The Daily Prophet. The headline read: Peter Pettigrew given Order of Merlin.

Then he woke up.

He couldn't really remember his dream but it left him unsettled.

He went to breakfast and was having a pleasant conversation with Sinastra when the mail arrived. All of the teachers received a copy of The Daily Prophet for free and when Remus read the headline he choked on his tea

Black sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss

He needed to talk to Dumbledore.

O

Ron Weasley was in an excellent mood. He was going downstairs for dinner. Ron was worried that he would be late, but it appeared that Dumbledore wasn't at the table. Sitting in his place was the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Confused, Ron sat down next to Neville, and gave Hagrid a wave at the front table. He saw Lupin staring his direction, but unlike Hagrid, he seemed quite unhappy. McGonagall stood up. "Professor Dumbledore is a bit busy for the moment, attending to some security details. Some of you may notice a slight ripple of magic during the meal, but I assure you, that is to be expected."

Ron withdrew Scabbers from his pocket, setting him on a special plate, making certain that Lavender didn't see him; she thought Scabbers was disgusting. Thanks to Harry's suggestion, Scabbers was looking healthier than he had in months. He turned to Neville, and they spoke of the last Charms class, both of them were using hand-me-down wands, and Flitwick delicately explained perhaps they should get new ones.

"I wish I didn't have Charlie's old wand, it used to belong to another uncle of mine. Sometimes I think that it works just enough so my mum doesn't try to get me a new one."

"Yeah. I know what you mean. I use my dad's old wand, sometimes I wish I had another," Neville replied. Ron wondered what had happened to Neville's dad, but kept his mouth shut. He had a sinking suspicion it would be considered rude.

Then there was a faint odor, a crackle of energy in the air, and then a 'pop' right next to Ron. And hunched on the table was a filthy man, his hands pressed to his face, with a look of alarm.