Harry didn't waste any time. He called Kreacher, explained everything in three short, rather terse sentences and then dragged him upstairs. Even as they ran up, the portraits came zooming down out of Kreacher's cupboard. Mrs Black screeched at Harry as she passed him on the stairs, and almost knocked him over.
"Everything that's red - except for what's in Padfoot's room - needs to be green," Harry said, shoving open the door of his bedroom. Kreacher clicked his fingers at the bedding. "And dusty," Harry added. Kreacher looked like he might cry. "Kreacher, please! This is important!" Harry said as he tore the Gryffindor banner off of his wall. "That needs to be a Slytherin one. Green and silver, with a snake!" Kreacher did that and hung it back up, but he seemed to be struggling with the idea of dust.
"Kreacher can't, Kreacher doesn't know how- Kreacher cleans-"
Harry opened one of his desk drawers and rubbed his hand in the bottom of it, gathering dust. His fingers also brushed something hard and cold, which turned out to be the vault key he'd been given when he and Padfoot went to Gringotts. He stuffed that in his pocket, just in case.
"Here," he told Kreacher, offering him his dusty hand. "Make more." Kreacher's eyes brightened and he clicked his fingers. The fine layer of dust thickened and then became a lump. When it was roughly the size of Harry's desk, Kreacher clapped and it exploded, layering itself onto the bed, the curtains, the desk and the carpet. Harry checked his watch. Eight minutes left.
Thinking there were probably things that he and Padfoot would need, Harry grabbed his rucksack from under his bed – it clinked quietly, reminding him that they had left a bit of money in the front pocket back in February – and raced over to his wardrobe.
An assortment of clothes was shoved in, rather unceremoniously, as were the sweets in Harry's bedside table, Regulus' golden snake puzzle and Harry's Exploding Snap set, which was right beside them. Kreacher shooed him out of the room and replaced the dust that had been disturbed by Harry's footsteps.
Hedwig, who'd been perched in Padfoot's room flew out to see what the fuss was about only to be coerced back into her cage by Harry and carried out onto the landing. By the time he'd managed to settle her – she was flapping her wings and clicking her beak, obviously displeased by the dust – Kreacher had finished Padfoot's room.
Since Harry would disturb the dust if he went inside, Kreacher Summoned the things he'd need; a set of Padfoot's clothes for Harry to pack, and the photograph of Padfoot and Regulus (and their parents too, Harry supposed) from beside Padfoot's bed, since it was the only one not permanently attached to the wall.
Kreacher ushered Harry down the stairs and then followed, walking backwards, his bony hands almost blurred as they controlled a whirlwind of dust and grime, and also levitated Hedwig's cage.
"Break the bathroom tiles and the taps," Harry said, "and make the doorknobs loose. And we should break the lamps-"
"Kreacher remembers," Kreacher said. "Kreacher will handle things." Harry nodded and headed down the next flight of stairs so as to not interfere. He stopped in the library and stuffed all the books that were out back into the shelves and grabbed the little stash of muggle money he and Padfoot kept there.
He also tipped all the Floo Powder they had into the fire and lit it with a hasty, "Incendio."
Four minutes.
Harry dashed out again, down another flight of stairs and into the drawing room, where he put more books away and burnt more Floo Powder. He was on his way out the door when he skidded to a halt and turned reluctantly. The locket gleamed at him from inside its cabinet.
"Kreacher?" Harry called. CRACK! Hedwig screeched and flapped her wings. The cage rocked in Kreacher's grip and Harry quickly relieved him of it. "I'm taking the locket, just in case we can't come back. Can you-" Before he could even ask properly, Kreacher made an odd hand motion, cancelling the protective charms. The cabinet swung open. Harry seized the locket and the copy of Regulus' note and shoved them both into his rucksack.
A glance at his watch told him it was time to go. He hugged Kreacher tightly and got an awkward pat on the back in return – Kreacher was trying to drape cobwebs like Aunt Petunia had draped tinsel at Christmas.
"Don't forget the troll's leg downstairs," Harry said quickly and then, gripping his wand with one hand and Hedwig's cage with the other, murmured, "Ostendere me omnia." Colours danced in front of his eyes and then he twisted, concentrating as hard as he could on the doorstep of Moony's cottage, since that was the only part of it he remembered.
Cool wind rushed over him, ruffling his hair, and Harry could smell the forest, though he couldn't say quite what it smelled like. Hedwig nibbled on the bars of her cage, as if reminding him she was there. He undid the latch and she launched herself out and into the sky before circling down to land in a tree at the bottom of the garden. She glared at Harry for a moment and then began to clean her feathers.
Figuring she was safe enough, Harry decided to ensure his own safety and tried the doorknob. The door swung open. Clearly Moony was isolated enough that he wasn't worried about anyone breaking in. Harry had another look over his shoulder and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.
The cottage was small – the entire thing would probably fit in the kitchen of Number Twelve – but it was bright and welcoming. Certainly it was more welcoming than Number Twelve had been. There was a hallway to Harry's right and the front door had opened straight into a room that was a sitting room mixed with a kitchen.
Moony had said to hide, but Harry didn't think he was in any immediate danger – Padfoot and Moony were another story but he shoved that thought away - and he was curious; the large collection of photographs on Moony's mantel had certainly drawn his attention. He set the cage and his rucksack down by the couch and walked over.
Some were recent. There were several of Moony and two people Harry thought might be his parents; the woman had his sandy hair and brown eyes and then man was tall like Moony and had the same nose and smile. There was one of Moony and a boy – he was younger than Moony but quite a bit older than Harry – who had dark hair and eyes and a friendly smile.
Some were older photos, taken before Harry was born; in some of them, Moony only looked a few years older than Harry was now. There was one of Moony and James at a Quidditch game - the Cannons, Harry thought, spotting a glimpse of his godfather's bright orange face as he peeked over James' shoulder. There was also one of Moony and his fellow Gryffindor Prefect. It was a pretty girl with bright green eyes and red hair.
He had a niggling feeling that he knew her and so moved his attention to another photograph, hoping to see her again.
The next photo was one of all four Marauders - the same one that Padfoot had in his bedroom at Number Twelve – and Harry knew it well. The one after that was of a large group of people - Harry recognised Dumbledore, his dad, Padfoot, Moony - he growled at Peter's short figure, making the man hide behind Padfoot - and Amelia Bones.
The red-haired woman was there again. Right beside his father, smiling at him. He knew now, who it must be. Since he could put it back up and Moony wouldn't even know he'd moved it, Harry pulled the photo frame down so that he could get a better look at the picture. Shaking, he reached out to trace his parents' faces. Both of them smiled and waved at him. He was used to seeing James smile and wave, but Lily was new to him.
I do have my mother's eyes.
Harry sat down – he thought his legs might give out – on Moony's couch, the photograph resting in his lap. For a moment, all thoughts of Moony and Padfoot and the danger they could be in, faded.
He thought the photograph was of the Order of the Phoenix; both Padfoot and James were wearing black t-shirts with Phoenixes on them and Dumbledore had a real Phoenix perched on his shoulder. An enormous bearded man – Harry was almost certain he was a giant - kept looking at it and reaching out with a forearm sized finger to pat its plumed head.
Movement where his parents were standing drew his attention back; Moony and Padfoot were stomping each other's feet, and while his father clearly found it funny, his mother was pursing her lips and shooting them disapproving looks. Finally, she seemed to have had enough and turned – presumably to tell them off – when James stomped, admittedly gentler than Moony and Padfoot had been, on her foot. Padfoot gave him a thumbs up from over her shoulder.
Harry watched with baited breath to see what Lily would do; Padfoot had always mentioned her temper, but also mentioned what a kind person she was. Harry was expecting her to either shout at James, or just let it go. He wasn't expecting her to grin and stop on his foot, the way she did. James grinned - the same grin he always gave Harry and Padfoot through the mirror - and flung an arm over her shoulders. A wedding ring glinted on his hand, almost as bright at his smile.
Meanwhile, Moony was talking to Padfoot, but Padfoot was very obviously not listening; he was staring hard at a dark-haired witch, who appeared oblivious on Peter's other side. Or would have, if her eyes didn't keep flicking in his direction. Lily noticed and elbowed Padfoot who straightened and flicked his wand at Peter, as if that had been the intention all along. Harry laughed out loud as photo-Peter's hair turned a vivid shade of green.
Harry had a quick look at the photo's other occupants but they weren't nearly as interesting as his parents and their friends. Even the red-haired twins - Harry thought they looked a bit like Ron from the Leaky Cauldron and were pulling a number of ridiculous poses - failed to hold his attention for long. Harry found his eyes drifting back to the left side of the photo.
Peter was looking indignant, and James and Padfoot swapped pleased looks and high-fives behind Lily's head while Moony repaired the damage. The dark haired witch Padfoot had been staring at earlier had edged closer to Padfoot since he last looked, and then, with a wave of her wand, turned his hair blue. A round faced witch and a man with a kind smile both laughed. Padfoot pulled a face at them.
Harry thought he could have watched for hours, but was disturbed only a few seconds later by a quiet rustle. His head snapped up. It was only a barn owl, perched near the kitchen window, but it did remind him that he was supposed to be hiding, and of course, that reminded him of Padfoot and Moony's predicament and made worry start to gnaw on his insides again. Harry returned the photograph to its home above the fireplace and began to look for somewhere to hide.
Remus took a deep breath, squeezed his wand for reassurance and opened Marlene's front door. It swung open soundlessly to show a white walled hallway with pale floorboards. The only thing in sight that wasn't neutrally coloured was a large, faded Gryffindor banner.
He'd been here before – while he and Marlene had never been particularly close, he'd felt obliged to visit her once or twice a year – and so knew his way around reasonably well. It was only now, however, that he realised that the layout of Number Thirteen was identical to that of Number Twelve; there was a door on either side of the hallway and further ahead on the right he could see the staircase that went up to the rest of the house and on the left he could see the one that went down to the kitchen.
"Homenum Revelio," he whispered.
The entire hallway fell into darkness – to Remus' eyes at least – and the walls and floors became little more than faint, almost transparent outlines. Someone glowed bright orange, like a fire, from the room to Remus' left, but the rest of the house was empty. He hoped it was Sirius.
He let the spell slip away, just as a familiar voice said, "Marlene?"
"Sirius!" Remus burst into a room that was positioned exactly where Sirius' training room was in Number Twelve. In Number Thirteen, however, it was a large, bright sitting room, where he and Marlene had sat on the rare occasions he'd visited. This room, unlike the training room, had a fireplace. Standing in front of one of the flowery couches – Remus was almost certain Marlene hadn't picked those - and holding a half-full cup of tea, was Sirius. Remus sagged with relief.
"Harry?" he asked, staring at Remus. "What-"
"It's me, you git," Remus said impatiently. He'd chosen to make himself look like Harry because it would make other people underestimate him, and because it would conceal his own involvement in this. Sirius stared at him.
"Moony? But, why-?"
"Marlene's an Auror trainee, Sirius," he said, wasting no time. "We've got to go, now-"
"Harry's safe?" Sirius said, setting his tea down.
"Yes, he's fine. He'll meet us at my house."
"Your-"
"Yes, mine!" Remus said. "If you'd already been taken, it seemed probable that Aurors would be back to search the area, and – because they'd have to be thick not to – Number Twelve."
"Right," Padfoot muttered. "But-"
"Everything's taken care of, except you," Remus barked, grabbing him. "Let's-"
The fireplace chimed and green flames swelled. He and Sirius exchanged horrified looks and then Sirius was the one pulling Remus out of the sitting room and down the hall.
"Wha-" Remus heard from the room they just vacated, and then the door opened with a bang and Marlene charged out, eyes blazing, wand aloft. Sirius made a little despairing noise and flicked his wand at the front door, which popped open. A jet of red light – either a Stunner or a Disarmer, Remus thought, and either could ruin everything at this point – flew toward them. Remus' wand was lifted and he had the incantation for a Shield Charm on his lips when Sirius' bloomed out, negating the necessity. His hand knocked Remus' wand down.
"Wh-"
"The Trace," Sirius hissed.
"But- Oh!" The Trace wouldn't go off, and they would know he wasn't really Harry. And if they knew that, they could analyse any spells he'd used and follow the magical residue back to him, which would lead them to the real Harry, possibly before he and Sirius could get to him. "What about this, though?" he asked, as Sirius cast another Shield Charm and Marlene was forced to dive out of the way as her spell flew back and scorched the wall. "These spells should set it off."
"Can't be helped," Sirius said. "But if you don't leave any magic behind, they can't prove a thin- Ventus!" Marlene tumbled over, giving them enough time to get out of the house. Sirius jumped the four front steps but Remus was too short in his spell-altered body to be sure that he could make it that far, and had to run down them.
"Incarcerous!"
"Protego Ignis!" Sirius said, and the ropes Marlene had sent at them were destroyed by the burning shield. "Marlene-"
"What were you doing in my house?" she snarled, lifting her wand. Oddly, however, no more spells came at them. Remus suspected she'd remembered they were standing in a muggle street.
"I wanted to talk to you," Sirius said, sounding remarkably calm. "Obviously you're not in a talking mood-"
"Oh, really?" she snapped.
"-which is fine," Sirius continued hastily. "We'll come back another day-"
"We most certainly won't," Remus hissed.
"-when you're more inclined to... er... not... well, hex us." He dropped his voice. "Look scared, Moony. Grab my arm. So," he said loudly, as Remus edged closer and wrapped a small hand around Sirius' forearm, "we'll just be going..."
Marlene's eyes widened and she made a motion with her wand that Remus recognised as some sort of Binding Hex. Sirius, thankfully, blocked it at the last moment, with a jab of his wand. Her eyes narrowed and she flicked her wand several more times. He and Sirius were forced to separate as a bright orange spell whizzed toward them.
Remus doubted it was anything overly dangerous, since Marlene wouldn't want to hurt him at least (he was supposed to be Harry), but he doubted he wanted to be hit by it either. Sirius conjured a spherical shield that absorbed a pink hex and allowed Remus to get back to his side.
"Lovely seeing you," Sirius said cheerfully, though his voice was strained. "Hold tight," he muttered to Remus, and cast a quick look in Number Twelve's direction, obviously thinking of Harry. "Oh, and good luck with Auror training." Marlene's mouth fell open. She might have said something but Remus didn't hear it; Sirius had spun on the spot and pulled Remus along with him.
"Couldn't help yourself, could you?" Remus asked once they were steady; Sirius had brought them to King's Cross Station where they very quickly became a part of the crowd. It was disconcerting, because Remus, who was used to looking down on people because of his height, found himself staring at everyone's elbows. He was just grateful both he and Sirius were wearing jeans and didn't stand out. "You just had to mention the Aurors-"
"Didn't have a choice, did I?" Sirius muttered. Remus didn't have much idea where they were going, but Sirius seemed to. "She was so surprised she didn't even try to stop us- Security camera." Sirius ducked his head, and indicated that Remus should do the same.
"Done this before, have you?" Remus asked.
"Twice," Sirius said. "The first morning I had Harry, we didn't have food so I ducked out to buy that, but I stopped by here to make sure I knew my way around."
"Why?"
"Situations like this," he said, shrugging. "If you want to hide from wizards, where better than in the muggle world?"
"When was the second time?"
"After you found Harry in May. When we escaped, we came here, caught a train and then a bus and then walked home."
"How do you think of these things?"
"I'm just fantastically clever," Sirius said, but he looked distracted.
"What's the real reason?" Remus asked, laughing; he thought Sirius' history as an Auror probably had more to do with it.
"Hmm?" Sirius said, not appearing to hear him. He was silent for a moment and then looked up, eyes guilty and worried. "You're sure Harry's safe?"
"Positive," Remus said. "He's probably hiding under my bed, waiting for us to get there."
"Cupboard."
"What?"
"He'll be in a cupboard," Sirius sighed. He paused and then: "And you're sure-"
"Sirius, he'll be fine."
"Shut up."
"What?"
"Not you- Never mind. If Harry's not fine, I blame you."
"You do that," Remus said, a little disconcerted. Sirius poked his tongue out and guided him along a strange, zig-zagging path. "Padfoot, why are we walking like this?"
"Cameras."
"But we only ducked-"
"That one can't be avoided." Sirius sighed and glanced at Remus, looking resigned. "You wouldn't happen to have any muggle money, would you?"
"Yes, actually," Remus said, reaching into a pocket of his jeans.
"You're joking." Sirius had stopped walking to stare at him.
"I was patrolling today," Remus said, pulling out several muggle coins. "I always take a few pounds when I go, just in case." Sirius shook his head, looking unable to believe his good luck, and guided Remus over to buy tickets.
"Where to?" the woman at the counter asked, giving Sirius a smile. She blushed when he smiled back and ignored Remus entirely. They exchanged the usual pleasantries – though Remus could tell from Sirius' voice that he just wanted to buy the tickets and be done with it – and so Remus leant against the wall and watched the muggles go about their lives.
Everything was remarkably uneventful, at least until he noticed four people in dark cloaks in various places around the station; one was sitting on a bench, next to a muggle business man. One was exchanging words with a muggle policeman and another with a conductor. The fourth was chatting with random muggles, and seemed to be holding a photograph.
How did they find us so quickly? Remus thought, horrified. The answer presented itself immediately; Marlene. She would have had a Sidekick, like Nymphadora's, and contacted the Auror Office immediately. They'd obviously examined the traces left by Sirius' Apparition and been led here.
"Siri- Dad," Remus said loudly, tugging on Sirius' sleeve. Sirius glanced down, looking anxious. "We... er... there... I have to go to the bathroom."
"Really?" Sirius asked, giving Remus a puzzled look. "Can... er... you wait until we get home?"
"No," Remus said, tilting his head in the direction of the Aurors. "Now." Sirius swore.
"Right," he said. "Sorry," he told the lady at the ticket booth. "We'll... er... be back in a minute." He guided Remus away. "We won't have time to catch a train," Sirius said.
"Doesn't matter. We'll Apparate around a bit, try to lose them that way."
"Hogsmeade's best, then," Sirius said. "Come on, we need somewhere private or we'll scare the muggles."
"We should have changed your face," Remus hissed as they ran toward the bathrooms.
"In front of all the muggles?" Sirius shot back. "Or while we were with Marlene? And," he said, "your face, right now, is probably being looked for just as much as mine."
"Fuck, right," Remus said, running an agitated hand through the messy hair that so resembled Harry's. A man in a suit gave him a scandalised look and then glowered at Sirius.
"Stop swearing," Sirius told him. "You're making me look like a bad paren- Shut up!" he hissed. Remus decided to ignore that, this time.
"You are a bad- Oh, all right," he said, grinning, when Sirius gave him a plaintive look. "Sorry."
"Ha," Sirius said under his breath. "Told you."
"Who-?" Remus began.
"Don't worry about it." There was only one man in the bathroom when they entered, and he was drying his hands. They waited until he'd left and then Sirius locked the door with a charm that would wear off in thirty seconds. "Hogsmeade?" he asked, and held out his arm.
Remus nodded and then Sirius spun. The grey bathroom tiles they were standing on swirled and darkened and became the muddy road that connected Hogsmeade and the school.
"Come on," he said, walking toward the trees that lined the road.
"Wait," Sirius said, pulling off his shoes.
"Sirius, what in Merlin's-"
"Shh." Sirius grinned and with a flick of his wand, dropped his shoes. They landed with a squelch and a spray of muck. Sirius murmured another spell and the shoes took off along the road toward the village.
"Footprints," Remus said softly and then shook himself. "Do you actually think of everything?"
"Eighteen years of friendship and you haven't worked that out yet?" Sirius asked archly. Remus thought it was more like ten or eleven, given Sirius' time in Azkaban but didn't say so. "My, my, Moony, how the mighty have fallen-"
"Yes, yes, it's tragic," Remus said impatiently, making Sirius laugh. "Here, we should get off the road." He headed into the trees on the left, knowing they'd lead them into the main part of the Forbidden Forest; the trees on the right were too sparse to provide any real shelter and the forest on that side ended not far from where they were. Sirius didn't say anything but the quiet sound of socks in mud told Remus he was following.
"Disgusting," Sirius said when they were far enough into the trees that they couldn't see the road anymore. Remus turned to find Sirius sitting on the ground, peeling off his ruined socks. "Evanesco," he said darkly, and then leaned back against a tree trunk. "So, where to, Moony?"
"Get up, you git," he said, nudging Sirius with his shoe. "We can't go anywhere if you're sitting down."
"We can't go anywhere if we don't know where we're going," Sirius countered, making no move to stand.
"We're not going anywhere," Remus told him after a moment. Sirius blinked and then his eyebrows came together. Remus -recognising the danger signs - hurried to explain. "My search team are probably all wondering where I am. You being seen in London will be all over tomorrow's Prophet and none of them are thick enough to look past the fact that I was missing at the same time."
"So where will you go?"
"To meet up with them." Remus checked his watch. "I'll be half an hour late but I can just tell them I got caught up-"
"Why don't you tell them you were with me?" Remus stared at him. "No, really," Sirius continued, looking eager. "Tell them you tracked me and Harry to Grimmauld Place and then I ran – because I'm so deviously clever, of course-"
"Of course," Remus agreed, fighting to keep a straight face.
"I really don't like it when you look like Harry," Sirius said, pouting. "He's much nicer than you, so your cruelty takes me by surprise-"
"Constant Vigilance!" Remus couldn't help saying in a loud whisper; he had the sense not to shout when there could be Aurors in the area. Sirius glowered at him. Remus grinned. "What were you saying?"
"That I'm deviously clever-"
"At the train station you said fantastically-"
"Yes, that too. Now, you should tell them that you were tracking me and I just disappeared. You searched Grimmauld Place because you know my mother used to live there and found nothing. If you're in a bad enough mood when you meet them for lunch, they'll have no trouble believing you."
"That's not actually a bad idea," Remus said. "Although it might be better to just say I saw you at King's Cross."
"Whatever works," Sirius said, shrugging.
"And the bad mood part might be easier said than done." It was like they were back in Hogwarts, evading Filch after a well executed prank. The stakes were higher but that just made everything all the more enjoyable; Remus was sure James would approve – for him, the risk of being caught had always been the best part.
"I'll put that Flea Jinx on you," Sirius offered. "That'll ruin your mood." Remus shuddered.
"Don't you-" There were eight quiet pops. Both men froze, their heads snapping up in the direction of the noise – which, admittedly was quite far away, but still cause for worry. "Think they'll buy the footprints?" Remus wasn't sure why he was whispering but he couldn't quite bring himself to speak normally.
"They can't risk not following them," Sirius whispered back. "They'll have to split up. You have to go."
Remus nodded. "I'll meet you at my house?"
"I s'pose so," Sirius said.
"If I'm not there in two hours, assume I've been caught and find somewhere else to go. I'll do the same for you." Sirius nodded. "Do me a favour, though?"
"What?"
"Don't get caught."
Sirius grinned and vanished into the foliage. Remus could hear him muttering – it almost sounded as if he was arguing with himself. Remus didn't have time to dwell on that now, though. He turned to the nearest tree and began to climb. Only when he was well above the ground did he pull out his wand and reverse the Appearance Charms he was wearing, and resize his clothes. He conjured a mirror to check his appearance, vanished the mirror and then prepared to Disapparate.
He was a little unsteady on his branch – he'd never had a problem with heights, exactly, but he'd never had James and Sirius' confidence either – but Aurors would be searching for magical traces on the ground, not in the trees. He managed to spin on the spot.
He saw rather than felt himself falling sideways – a large branch rushed toward his face – but it vanished into blackness before it could cause a problem.
"Homenum Revelio," Gawain murmured. He nodded once to himself. "Someone's upstairs. Stay behind me, McKinnon."
"Yes, sir," Marlene breathed, stepping into the house behind Gawain. Her wand was clenched tightly in her fist and her eyes refused to stay focused on anything for more than a few seconds. The floor creaked and she jumped.
"You all right, McKinnon? You seem jumpy."
"Do I?" she hissed. "That's odd. I can't imagine why I might be jumpy. It's not like Sirius Black was in my house this morning-" She cut off as something moved upstairs.
Gawain stopped so suddenly that she walked into the back of him and bounced off. Dust puffed up around them, revealing scuffed floorboards. When she looked up, Gawain's face was only inches from hers, his eyes bright green and intent.
"McKinnon, I will ask this once, and once only," he said in a tone that was somehow hard and gentle all at once. "Can you do this?"
She opened her mouth but he held up a hand. His smallest finger had been blown off in the war and he'd told her he hadn't healed it so that it would serve as a reminder to stay alert. It was his own version of 'Constant vigilance', she supposed, but he hadn't yet taken to shouting it randomly.
"Truthfully, please, McKinnon," he said in the same stern, soft voice. "I will think nothing less of you if you're unable to do this and it will not affect your training, but if you're going to be a liability I need to know-" And there was that disconcerting honesty; it was the thing she most loved about her mentor. He wouldn't lie to her, not to spare her feelings, not to keep her safe.
He was blunt and she liked that, though it reminded her uncannily of James and even Sirius, neither of whom had ever been afraid to say what they thought – though James had had more tact than Sirius. She supposed the similarities weren't really surprising; Gawain had been trained by Charlus Potter – James' father, who was something of a legend in the D.M.L.E – and James and Sirius had grown up influenced by the same man. Thankfully, Gawain had a very limited sense of humour – nothing at all like the other three – and he wasn't so similar that she was completely lost to nostalgia and unable to function. It was a delicate balance.
Gawain cleared his throat.
"I can do this," she said honestly.
"You're not afraid of him?" he asked. His eyes continued to scan the hallway, but for now they were alone.
"No," she said. And she wasn't. Sirius, Merlin knew why, had seen her twice and made no move to kill her either time because he'd wanted to talk. If anything, he'd seemed afraid of her.
And so he bloody well should be, she thought.
Gawain considered her for a moment. She wasn't sure how much he'd been told about Sirius' past and how she fit into it – she certainly hadn't brought it up – and that was probably why his thoughtful expression changed into one of disbelief; why should he believe she wasn't scared?
Sirius had blown up one friend, arranged the deaths of a man he considered a brother and a woman who'd been like his sister, broken out of a supposedly impenetrable wizarding prison and then kidnapped the son of his old, dead friends. And he'd shown up at her house, twice, though no one knew about the first.
"Why are you so jumpy, then, if not for fear?"
"I don't want to give him another chance to slip through the cracks," she said. "I want him- I want him caught."
"Caught?" he asked.
"Dead," she admitted after a moment, clenching her fists. She might have closed her eyes if she hadn't been keeping a lookout for Sirius, or any traps he might have left behind.
"We need him alive, McKinnon. There are things we need to know. About Azkaban, for example, and how he's been evading us. Who's helping him, how did he get through the wards on Harry Potter's muggle home? Lots of people still want his account of Halloween all those years ago – he never had a trial, remember?"
"I remember." She also remembered Sirius' account, the one he'd told her after he nearly died in her hallway. The one that might actually convince the idiots at the Ministry if he was given a chance to talk to them. Or convince them by buying his way free with the help of people like Lucius Malfoy. She didn't think she could bear it if that happened, if Sirius walked free – truly free – after everything. "I still want him dead."
"You can want something without acting on it."
"And if I do?" she asked quietly.
"It could mean your expulsion from the Program." That, she was aware of, but her expulsion would mean that Sirius was dead, and that was why she'd joined the Aurors in the first place. Her face must have given away some of what she was thinking because Gawain sighed and ran a hand over his day-old beard. "McKinnon-"
"I'm not about to kill him on sight, sir," she said stiffly. She'd take him to Lupin, first, so that they could do it together. It would be a private sentencing.
"When would you do it then? Would you wait to kill him when he's asleep in his cell in Azkaban, helpless?" She didn't say anything. Gawain shook his head. "I haven't known you long, McKinnon, but I know you're better than that."
Her lips quirked up into what wasn't quite a smile and her eyes, absurdly, filled with tears – probably, she thought, because she knew that Gawain didn't lie. He truly believed that.
"I don't think so, sir."
"I think you're wrong. Aurors save lives, they don't take them." He stared at her beseechingly, but she couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes. She swallowed and stared at the dusty floor. "You could be a good Auror, McKinnon."
She offered him that same, not-quite-a-smile and stepped around him. Wand aloft, she started off down the hallway again. Gawain said nothing more and walked after her. He overtook her before she'd gone more than a few steps and glanced back, as if he might say something, but didn't.
Because he was looking at her, he didn't see the large, lumpy and very dusty thing in his path and walked straight into it. It fell with a crash and started screaming. Marlene cast a hasty Shield Charm but nothing came at them. She was forced to let it drop so that she could clamp her hands over her ears.
"Filth!" the thing was screaming. "Filth in the House of Black!" Gawain waved his wand and the lumpy thing – which appeared to be a troll's leg upon closer inspection – vanished. The screeching continued: "Intruders! Mudbloods and blood-traitors, I can smell them!" Marlene swallowed, a little disconcerted; she was a blood-traitor, and Gawain had had muggle parents. "Out, filth! Kreacher!"
"We're Aurors," Gawain called, getting back to his feet and joining the search for the screaming.
"Then you should know that trespassing is illegal!" the woman's voice shrieked. "Or at least have the decency to send a pureblood!"
"There," Gawain said, pointing to a portrait, framed by grubby curtains.
"I'm a pureblood," Marlene said, glancing at Gawain, who nodded.
"It's McKinnon isn't it?"
"Erm... yes. Are you Mrs-"
"I knew it! Slag! Filthy blood-traitor! Consorting with that Potter and his Mudblood wife, and him! Oh, I remember you, poisoning his mind like you're poisoning my house! You and that Potter and that other dirty-blooded b-"
CRACK! A small, dirty shape materialised between them and the portrait. Gawain released a Stunner but moved his wand at the last minute so that it hit the wall instead of what appeared to be a house-elf. He had enormous grey eyes, a large, snout-like noise and was dressed only in a greying loincloth.
"Kreacher! Get this filth out of my House! The House of my fathers, forever soiled by these two- two-"
"Silencio," Marlene said. The woman's eyes bulged and painted spit burst from her thin lips.
"How dare you! How dare you use magic on me in my own home! I'll have you reported, locked up in Azkaban like the waste you are! Kreacher! Fetch ink and parchment!" The elf hesitated and then scurried off down the hallway, stirring up dust as he went.
"Let's go," Gawain said, hurrying after the elf. Marlene had no objections to anything that would keep her away from the portrait. The woman kept screaming. Obviously she was immune to Silencing Charms.
They cornered the elf in a dusty study, where he was rummaging through an old desk. He looked up when they came in, seeming afraid.
"We're not going to hurt you," Gawain said, crouching down to the elf's height. "We've just got some questions."
"What kind of questions, Kreacher wonders," the elf said, watching them warily. "Kreacher is a good elf and Mistress is good and Kreacher and Mistress have done nothing to deserve this invasion, oh no. Mistress always did say that-"
"Your Mistress," Gawain said gently. "Is she the woman in the portrait?"
"Oh, yes," the elf called Kreacher said.
"That's Mrs Black? Sirius Black's mother?"
"Broke her heart, Master did," Kreacher said, looking angry all of a sudden. "Master Regulus was a good boy, he knew what was due to the name of Black. Master Sirius brought the family shame with his wicked ways, running away to live with blood-traitors and Mu- Mu- Mudbloods." He shuddered, as if saying the word had hurt him and then shrieked, "Bad Kreacher!" Before either Marlene or Gawain could respond, he'd seized a dusty paperweight and started beating it against the side of his bald head.
"Accio," Marlene said, before Gawain had the chance. The paperweight flew out of his hands and Marlene caught it easily; she hadn't been a Keeper for nothing. Kreacher gave her a spiteful look but didn't pick anything else up. She set it back down on the desk.
"Do you live here alone, Kreacher?" Gawain pressed, gently.
Kreacher drew himself up. "Kreacher lives with Mistress. Kreacher is not alone."
"He means-" The word 'people' died in Marlene's mouth. She didn't think that would go down well. "He means to ask if Sirius and Harry have been here," Marlene said.
"M-Master?" Kreacher asked.
"That's right," Gawain said. "Your Master Sirius. Have you seen him?"
"Kreacher doesn't know where Master is," Kreacher said flatly. "The papers say Master is a murderer now. Master always had such a temper, Kreacher remembers, oh yes. Dangerous, Master is. Kreacher heard he stole the Potter boy. A brat, Kreacher is sure." Marlene looked at Gawain, who was frowning.
"Do you mind if we search the house?" Gawain asked.
Kreacher looked angry but seemed to realise he couldn't stop them. He did, however, fold his thin arms and glower at them.
"Kreacher and his Mistress Black have nothing to hide," he said in his croaky voice. "The Aurors won't find any servants of the Dark Lord here, oh no."
With that, he collected the parchment, quill and ink he'd been sent to find and trotted out of the room to soothe his still screaming Mistress. Gawain let out a groan and pushed himself off of the dusty carpet.
"Mad elf," he muttered. Marlene agreed wholeheartedly.
"Do you think he's telling the truth?"
"Hard to say." Gawain brushed dust off of his robes. "If Black has been living here – miserable as this place is-" he added, glancing at the cobwebbed roof, "- then he's probably ordered the elf not to say anything. It's also possible that Kreacher's telling the complete truth." He ran a hand over his beard again. "Shall we?" he asked, gesturing toward the door.
They spent almost an hour searching for any traces of Sirius or Harry but found nothing. They went through every room – each was as dusty as the last – and found nothing to suggest that anyone had lived there for a very long time. Gawain had even cast a spell to detect magical activity that had occurred in the house but even that proved a waste of time.
"Is it possible they hid the traces?" Marlene asked as they trooped back downstairs. "I know erasing leaves signs and I know there are spells to hide magic's use, but are there any spells that can actually hide magic?" Gawain thought for a moment.
"Fidelius Charm, might, I suppose. Scrimgeour said Potter mentioned that when he was under Veritaserum." He pursed his lips and his eyes froze over, showing just what he thought of Veritaserum being administered to a nine year old.
"He what!?" she snarled. "When?"
"St Mungo's in August. Courtesy of Minister Fudge, or so I'm told." Angry as she was about that, she forced it down.
"Is there any way to check if there's an active Fidelius Charm in an area?"
"I'd say you'd have to be in on the Secret or it would defeat the point."
"Is there one here?"
"Why would I know?" he asked, looking exasperated.
"Experience?" she suggested. "Does this look like the sort of place that someone would hide-"
"Not long term,' Gawain replied. "It's filthy."
"But wouldn't the Fidelius Charm make it look this way? To throw us off the trail?"
"It doesn't work like that. The Fidelius Charm is – in the simplest terms possible – a lot like a very powerful, slightly altered Disillusionment Charm that will only work in a particular area. It hides all traces of a person's existence; you can't see them, hear them, smell them, touch them... It hides them. It doesn't create disguises. Or dust," he added, glancing at the floor.
"Is it possible for a house to be under the Fidelius Charm and not be invisible?"
"Most Fidelius Charms are combined with a spell to make the building invisible to those who aren't in on the Secret. It's an extra precaution."
"But this house isn't invisible."
"It is to muggles, but not to us," Gawain said. "It's extensively warded – there are Notice-Me-Not Charms on the outside and the windows are one-way; they'll let you see out but not in."
"But none of them were put up by Sirius," Marlene asked dejectedly.
"The warding is so complex we couldn't ever be certain," Gawain said. "But from what I could tell, no."
"So they're not here?"
"If they were using a Fidelius Charm, they could be standing two feet away and we'd never know." Gawain gave her a tight smile and it took Marlene a moment to realise that was his idea of a joke. She laughed, once, half-heartedly. "No, I don't think they're here. If they ever were, it was a long time ago." He ran a finger through the dust on the banister and made a disapproving noise.
"So we're done here?"
"Well and truly. Hopefully the others have saved us some tea." Marlene's house, conveniently located next door, had become a temporary Auror base; when she and Gawain had come into Number Twelve, others had been examining Sirius' Apparition traces on the street, and also the magic he'd used inside. She hoped those Aurors had had more luck than she and Gawain but something told her that was a futile hope.
They descended the last flight of stairs in silence that was shattered the moment they reached the hallway again.
"Kreacher told them Kreacher had nothing to hide," the elf croaked, scuttling past.
"Yes," Gawain said kindly. "I'd like to thank you for your coop-"
Marlene didn't catch the rest; Mrs Black must have heard them speaking, because her abusive screams started up again. She sincerely hoped there was still tea at her house.