VIII. Diagonally
Before Harry went to Diagon Alley, he wanted to get his name cleared, in large part so he had at least one back up spell in case things ever went south in the future. Hopefully, he would never have to step foot on Privet Drive ever again, but that one bonus spell in the muggle world could genuinely save his life in the future.
It would also give him a chance to see what the Ministry was like. How was it run? Where was it? So of course he went to the resident ministry employee in the Burrow. "Mr. Weasley? You remember how I got a letter for underage magic? Is there a way I could dispute that charge?"
"Dispute it? What happened?"
"I'm not sure if you'd believe me… but there was a house elf that showed up, and it seemed like it was ordered to stop me from going to Hogwarts."
Arthur's eyes widened. "You're sure it was a house elf?"
"Yeah, a little guy named Dobby- I didn't figure out what family he served, but it seemed like he was trying to stop me from going to Hogwarts to save me."
"Save you?"
"He was babbling about a threat to my life and stuff like that. He was stopping my letters, hoping that would keep me from coming back."
"Say Harry, there's something I'd like you to do for me, that is if you're alright with it"
"What?"
"Have you ever heard of a Pensieve?"
Of course, Harry was very happy to pull out the memory of his confrontation with Dobby the house elf- if it meant his name was cleared, that would be great, but it seemed like Mr. Weasley wanted Harry to sit back and let the adults handle the situation. Harry held himself back from making a sassy comment about how well the adults had handled the situation last time and conceded. Mr. Weasley seemed like an upstanding guy- hopefully, he could get the reputation of one of the most famous wizards in England cleared.
Still, no visit to the ministry meant he needed to find other things to do with his time other than throwing gnomes and flying with a broom, which were fun, but got repetitive real fast. After one particularly loud explosion from Fred and George's room, he realized that if he wanted "experts" with magical experimentation, those two might be the best he could get his hands on- not to mention their healthy disrespect for authority.
It had taken a bit of begging, but eventually Fred and George conceded and decided to help Harry with one of his hare-brained schemes. The idea was a simple: set up a rune system that would collect energy from the waves of the electromagnetic spectrum.
Rather obviously, the chaps who came up with Futhark wouldn't have had the foggiest idea of what a microwave was, but with a bit of stretching and exaggeration here and there it was possible to get something that could be stretched to mean wave, and that was enough for Harry.
Fred and George were standing to the side, vaguely curious. Of course, their wizarding education didn't include anything about the electromagnetic spectrum, but they had faith in Harry- or at least faith in muggle knowledge in some areas- like cars.
The apparatus was a fairly simple one: a single sort of ring shape, carved with runes both inside and out. Hopefully, if the twin's work was good and Harry's carving wasn't awful the ring would absorb waves from the air, like ultraviolet radiation, and transform them into heat.
Harry couldn't help but feel that this moment might turn out to be a historic one- imagine all the good that could be done harvesting comic radiation! This simple ring of reflective brass might be the key to the future, a revolution in energy collection to rival the industrial revolution! So Harry poured in just enough magic to start the process going- and immediately dropped it when it turned pitch black.
Perhaps pitch black was the wrong word- looking at it logically, his mind was telling him that the ring of metal was simply a very dark black, but it certainly looked like there was some sort of hole in space, as if the ring had vanished, so dark it was.
"What the hell?" George bent over to look at the ring, which was sitting on the grass rather nonchalantly.
Harry couldn't help but laugh. "I'm an idiot- how could I forget that it would absorb visible light too?"
"Wait- if it's absorbing visible light, why isn't it just invisible?" Fred asked, his head tilted in apparent confusion.
"When you see something, you're basically seeing the light that bounces off of it. Red light bounces off an apple, green light off grass, whatever. White objects reflect all light, and black objects absorb all light. This is just a logical extension of that."
Fred whistled. "Those muggle schools really teach you something, don't they?" He bent to pick the ring up, but the moment he touched it, he jumped back. "Blimey, that thing's hot!"
"Uh oh." Harry had realized that he might have made something of a mistake- presumably, the metal was only going to get hotter and hotter, absorbing more and more energy, until it either melted… or exploded.
Woops.
Well, Harry supposed that this would be one way to get his trip to the ministry- Harry imagined there would probably be an investigation if they couldn't fix this particular issue really quickly. Pulling out his wand, he cast the most powerful cutting charm he could, cutting through part of the metal and compromising the runes, releasing a blast of heat.
After a few moments of silence, Harry spoke up again. "Let's not tell Mrs. Weasley about this, all right?" Fred and George agreed, once they had stopped laughing.
Eventually, the day of their trip to Diagon Alley arrived, and Mrs. Weasley woke them up very early for their trip. Before Harry could ask how they planned on getting to Diagon Alley (was there some clown car magic going on with their vehicle, maybe?) he was introduced to the wonders of Floo Powder.
On the one hand, he had to give the wizarding world points for the sheer creativity of their modes of transport, even if it was wildly impractical. He couldn't begin to imagine how they linked up all the fireplaces in magical Britain in one gigantic network- it was like a computer network for teleportation or something.
As nice as the Weasleys were, there was the minor issue of too many cooks in the kitchen- Harry was getting way too much advice about his first floo trip to properly absorb any of it, a mouthful of hot ash impeded his issue to properly pronounce the words, and all of that on top of the chaos of spinning in fireplaces across the country.
All the grace and agility he developed playing Quidditch abandoned him, and he fell onto a cold stone floor which snapped his glasses. He could feel bruises and welts from countless chimneys across the country and a coating of soot across his body, and he could barely see since his glasses were broken- he had to hold up his glasses to his face like a pair of monocles.
Looking around, he was filled with curiosity- he had never been in this shop before- although something told him that this particular store didn't sell the usual fare. The shop was filled with strange, creepy artifacts that looked very old and very dangerous- and speaking of things that were old and dangerous, the Malfoy family.
Harry spotted Draco Malfoy through the window, and a similar looking older man that was probably Draco's father, both of them sharing the same proud expression and haughty gray eyes. However, some part of him wondered if the father was a little more competent than the son… this Malfoy would have lived through Voldemort's time, right?
Before the two made their way inside the store, Harry managed to tuck himself inside a truly massive cabinet of a beautiful looking dark wood. As Harry peaked through the door into the sore proper, he couldn't help but notice the runes carefully hidden away in unnoticeable places- the side and back of the cabinet's doors, for example.
Staying inside a mysterious cabinet with strange runes didn't seem like a good idea, especially considering the type of shop it was being sold in, but at the same time he couldn't imagine surprising either Malfoy in the dark of the shop would be a good idea. So he stayed and watched them talk with the shopkeep, a Mr. Borgin.
Hearing that Mr. Malfoy happened to possess some… legally questionable items was fairly interesting, although it only supported Harry's suspicions that was the man was of the seedier sort, at least under that veneer of nobility.
After both Malfoys and Mr. Borgin had left (to the streets and a backroom respectively) Harry carefully crept from the closet and looked at it before he left, searching for a label and wondering if he was going to wake up a slug the next day or something. He was very pleasantly surprised by what he saw.
The cabinet was part of a pair: an object placed in one would appear in the other if the door was fully closed, but this particular cabinet was matched with a broken cabinet. Meaning it was useless and downright dangerous to use- if Harry had fully closed that door, he would have ended up… somewhere.
He would definitely need to get his hands on a vanishing cabinet- or maybe something even bigger, like a vanishing garage, maybe. It would make some good reading, and maybe he could find something in Diagon Alley, wherever that was? Once Harry had left the shop, he found himself in a rather dingy looking alley, the sort of place that a child his age probably shouldn't be visiting alone.
The street seemed… unusually dark. It was presumably the middle of the day (unless Draco and his father had taken a trip to Australia), although there something almost fitting about the gloom- a street like this one just wouldn't look right in the bright light of day. Through windows he could spot giant spiders or the taxidermied bodies of strange magical animals, as cloaked figures flitted by, trying to hide themselves in the shadow.
A sign told him that this place was called Knockturn Alley, and Harry had a massive revelation. Knockturn. Alley. Nocturnally, as opposed to Diagonally. It nearly made him want to scream- one of the main commercial centers of the British wizarding world… was a bad pun?
Harry was snapped out of his reverie by a booming voice. "HARRY! What d'yeh think yer doin' down here?"
It was Hagrid- quite a site for sore eyes- but Harry started flushing with embarrassment. "I'm sorry- my first ever Floo trip, and I think I stuttered…" His voice petered off as Hagrid picked him up by the scruff of the neck and carried him around like a pet of some sort.
He found himself back on his feet once Hagrid had dropped him off- quite literally- in Diagon Alley. "Yer a mess!" Hagrid huffed, brushing the soot which covered Harry off. "You really shouldn't be skulkin' around Knockturn Alley, dodgy place, yeh know?"
"I got lost- I was supposed to make it here with the Weasleys, but this was my first Floo trip so I messed up and ended up… there."
They eventually made their way to the great snow-white edifice of Gringotts- Harry had business he needed to handle there, if the Weasleys would let him out of sight for the remainder of the day. There was another familiar sight there as well- Hermione!
"What happened to your glasses, Harry? Hello, Hagrid- it's great to see you both again- Are you visiting Gringotts, Harry?"
"Once I've found the Weasleys," Harry answered, and Hagrid gave a hearty chuckle behind him.
"Yeh won't have long ter wait," Hagrid said, and when Harry turned around he found himself face to face with a few members of the Weasley clan.
The concern on Mr Weasley's face was evident, even if he was panting and red faced- he was probably searching for him. "Harry, we hoped you'd only gone one grate too far, Molly's on her way now…"
"I'm sorry- I must have choked on the powder or something. I ended up in Knockturn Alley."
"Excellent!" Fred and George spoke in sync- was that just something magical twins did?- and Harry could see a bit of envy on Ron's face as well. The street really wasn't as great as they seemed to think, though.
Thankfully, Mr. Weasley fixed up his glasses, and once Mrs. Weasley arrived she tidied up his clothes, getting rid of all the soot that Hagrid missed. Part of Harry was happy to see that they cared so much- was this what normal parents were supposed to be like? The rest of him was flushed with embarrassment though, as he had spectacularly bungled his first Floo trip.
As they worked their way towards the bank, Harry sidled his way up to to the Weasley patriarch. "Mr. Weasley, I was wondering if you could help me with something… I've talked with the goblins and I have a property here on Diagon Alley- could you come with me to give it a look?"
Mr. Weasley smiled. "Of course- we'll see if we can fit it in during the shopping, alright?"
Harry nodded, and then Mr. Weasley was distracted by Hermione's parents, because they were muggles, and their apparently fascinating money.
Going down into the depths of Gringotts was just as much of an experience as the first time, although Harry had to wonder if the goblins made the ride bumpy on purpose, to make their clientele off guard? Still, it was very fun, and Harry imagined it would be rather like a muggle rollercoaster, not that he had ever ridden one of those.
The Weasleys did have a vault, but Harry couldn't help but feel bad when he saw how empty it was. There was money, sure, but compared to the mountains of money in just his trust vault… well, Harry couldn't exactly hide that when they stopped by his vault. He made sure to grab a lot more money then he would probably need- in part to cover future expenses, and out of a vain hope that he could maybe give back to the Weasleys in some small way.
Once everyone had secured their money, they went their separate ways to grab what they needed. Ginny needed robes (secondhand, of course), Percy wanted a quill, etc. Harry had managed to drag Mr. Weasley away from the Grangers- who were looking a little intimidated by the man- in the direction of his property in Diagon Alley.
Harry was practically shaking with anticipation as the two of them walked up the stairs to the apartment. He certainly didn't want to leave the Burrow, but the idea of having his own house was just so… liberating, even if he wasn't technically able to live there alone quite yet.
Of course, opening the door revealed nothing less than a fairly usual looking apartment- at least as far as Harry could tell. Admittedly, the room was covered in dust, but that was to be expected. Turning around, Harry could see that Mr. Weasley was waiting just outside the door.
"Mr. Weasley, why aren't you coming in?"
"I can't, Harry. This apartment is warded. I can't come in." Wait. Did the Burrow not have wards? Harry went directly inside without any real issues- either all their wards were shut down, or the Weasleys just couldn't afford them.
"Then how do I let you in?"
Arthur couldn't help but smile a little- he was happy to see that Harry trusted him, especially considering his time with the Dursleys. Admittedly, Arthur didn't really believe his sons when they were telling him about prison bars on the window, but a brief look into Harry's memories showed him that yes, Harry had a barred window.
On the one hand, Arthur had met quite a few muggles who reacted to magic in unexpected ways- it was something they didn't understand, after all. Of course, nothing excused such deplorable treatment of a child, and Arthur would make sure that Harry never ended up in a place like that again if he could help it.
It was a remarkable sign of trust that Harry just let him in (once Arthur had talked him through the process of opening up the wards) and Arthur could never betray that trust by letting him go back to his muggle relatives. That didn't mean he wanted Harry living in this apartment though- he needed someone keeping an eye on him, not to mention the fact that the apartment looked like it hadn't been lived in for years (of course, he would have been more concerned if it was lived in).
Arthur wiped the thick dust off of one particular framed photograph, revealing the face of a much, much younger Harry giggling, his chubby little arms gripping onto a great black dog and trying to catch something else in the corner of the picture. Wiping off a bit more dust revealed a rat skittering around too, a little gray creature that looked almost exactly like Ron's rat, Scabbers, just with all front paws intact.
Under the photo, partially hidden by the frame, was a letter. He started reading the first few lines:
Dear Padfoot, (who was Padfoot? Arthur kept on reading)
Thank you, thank you, for Harry's birthday present! It was his favorite by far. One year old and already zooming along...
"Mr. Weasley, do you know who this is?" Arthur suddenly found his attention drawn towards Harry, who was holding up a photograph, and Arthur involuntarily gasped. Of course, he recognized Harry's father, James, and he recognized the man whose arm was thrown over his shoulder: Sirius Black, the man's broad smile and laughter hiding horrible treachery.
Arthur gulped- of course, Harry had never heard about Sirius, who would bring him up- but resolved himself to answer. Harry couldn't be left in the dark about the man forever. "That's Sirius Black, he was an old friend of your parents- that's your father, James Potter, there- and I've heard they caused all sorts of trouble while they were in Hogwarts," Arthur wondered if he was sweating, "and… I heard rumors that he was your godfather."
"Then… why didn't he come for me? Help me?"
Why didn't anyone? Harry could see the discomfort on Arthur's face clear as day. "He was arrested and thrown into Azkaban, the wizarding prison, for serving Voldemort and murdering another one of your parent's friends, Peter Pettigrew."
Harry felt dizzy. The man who was happily smiling next to his father… helped kill him? Was responsible, in part, for stealing a normal life away from Harry? However, his mind was caught on one particular thing Arthur had said.
"For… serving Voldemort? Is that something you can get charged with, like a crime? Serving a dark lord?" Of course, it was the wrong thing to do, but how did that translate to the law of the land? What if you never actually committed any crimes and just provided funding? Would you just be an accessory to any and all crimes committed by the dark lord in question?
"I'm not entirely sure, Harry."
"Wait- you're telling me the man who betrayed my parents, who indirectly lead to the fall of Voldemort, wasn't given the biggest trial imaginable?"
"Well, a lot of people were just exhausted- no one wanted to see wizarding society tear itself apart again just after the war, so some people who were… suspect escaped the consequences they might have deserved. They might have kept it hush-hush, but admittedly I haven't heard anything about the trial. How about I look into it for you- see if I we can look over a copy of the transcript, maybe?"
Harry nodded. It would be interesting to see how magical justice worked- hopefully, he wouldn't have to face down the… well, whatever judicial body the wizards used anytime soon, but it was an interesting part of the wizarding world that he wanted to learn more about. Speaking of learning…
"Maybe we should head back and keep on shopping?" Arthur nodded, but it seemed like something else was on the man's mind.
Visiting bookstores and libraries was always fun, but Harry could recognize that it wasn't the sort of thing that everything was fond of, so the massive crowd outside of the shop were a surprise. A large banner proclaiming an appearance by a Gilderoy Lockhart seemed to explain the whole mess- he was signing his autobiography, Magical Me. Bit of an ego on the man, huh?
"We can actually meet him!" Hermione squealed, "He's written most of the booklist!" Probably because the professor held the man in very high regard- whether that respect was earned or just fangirling (or fanboying, Harry supposed) had yet to be shown. Honestly, it seemed a little cruel to Harry- not everyone was heir to a massive fortune, and especially for families like the Weasleys, who needed to buy many books for many children…
Harry had precisely zero interest in meeting another magical celebrity and contented himself with browsing the shelves, hoping to find something on what magical intelligences, and the charms which let wizards imbue normal objects with the ability to complete complex tasks. While still a little… creepy in some ways, the sheer practicality of a navigation computer (or something similar) that could intuit like a human- amazing. Not to mention how cool having an AI (even a magical one) running his spaceship would be. Also, alchemy- Harry wanted to get a jump on that, too.
Still, Harry could practically feel a wave of emotion spreading through the bookstore as Gilderoy Lockhart appeared, his teeth and hair shining brilliantly in the light, his clothes a brilliant blue. Begrudgingly, Harry could admit that the man looked pretty good, but that was no true indicator of his talent.
Some reporter was dancing around with a great beast of a camera that belched smoke and flashed brilliantly (Why? Why design a camera like that? Magical society really confounded Harry sometimes), shoving people out of the way in order to get his fill of pictures- Harry wouldn't have minded, but Gilderoy liked playing to the cameras, and that meant this his eyes were drawn in the cameraman's direction… and then Harry's direction.
Lockhart lept to his feet. "It can't be Harry Potter?" No. Nooooooo.
As if Lockhart had cast some spell, the crowd parted, giving him an opportunity to lunge in and grab Harry by the arm to drag him towards the center of the shop. Instinctively, Harry tried to throw him off, but the man had a surprisingly tight grip.
The crowd burst into applause, the air was filled with smoke from the camera, the flashing of the camera burning his eyes, Lockhart's grip tight on his shoulder… "Nice big smile, Harry. Together, you and I are worth the front page." Harry didn't want to be anywhere near the front page, but he gave something like a smile- the entire experience was dizzying. He just wanted to read!
When the man's grip loosened, Harry tried his best to bolt, but Lockhart quickly swung his arm over Harry's shoulder and continued playing to the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, what an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!"
Harry didn't like this. "When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography-" not really, Harry thought, "which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge-" hey, maybe it would make good tinder? "he had no idea, that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me."
No, dammit, no! Dumbledore, why? "Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"
Lockhart dropped the entirety of his works into Harry's waiting arms, which he dumped into Ginny Weasley's waiting cauldron. "You can take these, Ginny- I'll buy my own-"
"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" Harry turned around to see Draco Malfoy- of course, it made sense that he would be around… not that Harry had to like it. Harry wondered if that meant Draco's father was in the shop somewhere.
Seeing Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy start fighting in the middle of a crowded bookstore certainly wasn't what Harry expected for this particular shopping trip, especially not when Hagrid came in to break the scuffle up.
Everyone was a little subdued as they headed back in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron, but Harry had managed to drag Mr. Weasley to the side for a couple additional stop as the rest of the Weasleys made their way home.
His first target was a truly massive suitcase, which had four closet sized rooms on its inside. That was a lot of room to work with- he could fit most of his possessions in just one of the compartments (not to mention the fact that expanded suitcases could be brought inside expanded suitcases- the logistical applications of that nearly made him drool) leaving three entire rooms for his own experimentation. It could also be shrunk up and down, which was extremely convenient.
Of course, Harry wanted to fill at least one of those rooms with alchemy stuff, and sure enough, there was a store in Diagon Alley which catered to people starting out on Alchemy. If Harry had to guess, selling the basics for Alchemy was good business- everyone wanted infinite money and immortality, after all, just not many people were willing to follow it up.
Harry was almost reminded of muggle science labs- there were tall, narrow-necked glass vials and stout beakers, devices for heating your vessels and tiny sets of scales with minuscule weights, for all the experimenting a wizard might want to do.
Mr. Weasley had talked him down from buying a massive set of equipment- he was only just starting in the field after all, so they got something more basic- but with a bit of begging, Harry got something out of Arthur that was worth more than gold or the instruments used to make it: he would take a trip with Harry into muggle London, to get some books. All Harry needed to do was point him in the direction of some muggle reference books (which he would probably have to buy on clearance, because he blatantly refused the idea of receiving any from Harry) and keep him from dressing like a wizard.
It would be a lot to handle, Harry was sure, but at the same time, Harry knew he would have to stay on the bleeding edge in both worlds to make his plans work. If the wizarding world had a proper bleeding edge of technological development, that was. He had to wonder how new spells were made, for example….
Arthur had trouble finding the transcripts of Black's trials, but eventually it stopped feeling like the usual ministry wrapping of red tape that came with finding paperwork and started feeling like something was being hidden from him- and he did not like that at all.
With all the power and sway invested in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, he worked his way through the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Ministry's own archives, trying to find anything about Black and hist trial- surely, even the most rapid trial would have had something written down, any sort of record, right?
"Mr. Weasley? What are you doing in my department?" Arthur recognized that voice.
"Madame Bones, it's a pleasure to see you. I've been looking into Sirius Black's trial- or rather, the lack of it."
"The lack of it? You can't mean…"
"I've been searching and searching, but found nothing, so far. Unless it's been hidden away for some reason, I haven't been able to find a thing."
"I'll… look into it."
In time, Amelia had gotten back to Arthur with a heaping load of nothing. No trial, not even plans or dates- just the fact that Sirius Black had been sent to Azkaban Prison almost immediately after his arrest. Arthur could understand acting quickly to get results- but there were no results! The man was practically kidnapped by the government!
This was more than just indulging Harry's curiosity in hopes that the boy might be a bit more open if he was shown that not all adults were grossly incompetent. Now, he was facing a miserable miscarriage of justice- and even if he was just a lowly official, he couldn't let something like this stand.
Even the most basic fundamentals of the case were up in the air now- what was the man even guilty of? Sure, he had that destructive duel with Pettigrew and was in… a questionable mental state when he was taken in, but at the very least if the man was imprisoned, he needed to be for some reason- anything.
As much as Harry wanted to just slap his (or rather, the Weasley twin's) light absorption runes onto the magical drone, it required a bit more nuance than that. Fred and George were brilliant, but they were also statistical outliers- no normal pair of wizards caused that many explosions over one summer, and Harry wanted to double check… just in case.
Still, it was possible that Harry had all the tools he needed to conquer space- admittedly, he didn't know if the drone's propulsion was dependent on atmosphere or not (if it pushed against air to move itself, he was in trouble… but he'd get around it) but with a method of absorbing magic from the depths of space… the sky wasn't even the limit anymore. Looking into storing magical energy might be interesting as well- he really didn't want to accidentally blow up his ship.
Harry was excited to be going back to Hogwarts, to a place where he could practice his magic freely, but at the same time there was still a little worry at the back of his mind. What had that house elf, Dobby, been trying to protect him from? Would Harry have some other mysterious evil figure after his head this year? Not to mention the defense teacher…
Harry shook himself out of his reverie as he and Ron made their way towards the wall between Platforms Nine and Ten- they were almost back to Hogwarts, to another school year of exciting magic… and then Harry's luggage crashed straight into a wall.
"Uh oh."
Harry and Ron were worryingly close to taking a flying adventure to Hogwarts, but before they could leave the Station Harry stopped Ron. "Say, why don't we just wait for your parents to come back out to the car? They can probably get us there somehow- surely, there are ways for parents to visit."
Thankfully, it seemed that Mrs. Weasley had noticed their absence, and came back through the barrier, looking at the two of them expectantly. "Wait are you waiting for, boys? The train's heading out soon."
"Something was blocking me from going through the wall, Mrs. Weasley."
Mrs. Weasley turned to the barrier between the two platforms, and cautiously stuck her hand through with no issues. "Are you sure, boys?"
Honestly, Harry was worried about the potential breach of the Statute this might cause (all before he could protect himself from the backlash), but he gently pushed his trolley towards the wall- which provided a stiff resistance, as walls were wont to do.
After a moment of silence, Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Alright, I suppose I'll have to apparate you boys over to the platform- let's slip off to somewhere a little less noticeable..."
It took quite some time for Arthur to arrange a meeting with Sirius Black (allegedly to discuss Black's infamous enchanted motorbike, but that was just an excuse), as not many people choose to visit Azkaban if they had any reason not to. Eventually, the ministry managed to work their way through the paperwork (along with handling Harry's underage magic use charge, thank goodness) and he found himself on that terrible island.
Arriving on Azkaban was not a pleasant experience- the rain was coming down in sheets, immediately soaking him and only serving to complement the unnatural chill brought on by the Dementors. For a few brief moments, Arthur wasn't standing on an isolated spur of rock in the North Sea- he was remembering all the terrors of the war against Voldemort until a nearby wizard shook him out of his stupor.
Arthur couldn't help but flush a little. "I'm sorry- I don't know what got into me."
The wizard shot him a shaky smile. "It's fine- happens more often then you'd think. So, you're here to see someone?"
"Yes- Sirius Black." The guard nodded and led him towards the prison, a great edifice of stone which jutted from the slick rocks composing Azkaban. Even without the Dementors, the island would have been a miserably dreary rock in the churning sea.
After quite some time, Arthur had found himself alone in a room with Sirius Black, separated from him by a heavily enchanted barrier. The man was pitiable, almost skin and bones, his hair and beard a wild, oily mess hiding a pair of deranged eyes.
"A… Arthur?" His voice come out as a faint croak.
"Black. I came here to ask you something. Did… did you have a trial?" Surely, they must have done something- anything. The ministry can't have failed Sirius so completely… right?
"No."
Arthur inhaled and tried his best to remain calm. "Okay. I'm not saying I believe you're innocent yet, but I am interested about what you have to say for yourself."
Black visibly shuddered, and he almost shouted his response. "It was Pettigrew! Damn him, that rat!"
"What do you mean, it was Pettigrew?"
"I convinced the Potters to make him the secret keeper- no one would expect him after all. But Voldemort came- and I knew he was a traitor. So I hunted him down to confront him… he blew up the street and cut off his own finger before scampering away..."
"So you're saying that Pettigrew was the culprit, and faked his own death to escape any possible consequences."
Sirius nodded, and behind those dark curtains of hair Arthur could see fury in those eyes. "And now he could be anywhere… plotting, scheming…" Sirius fell silent for a moment. "Say Arthur, have you seen any rats with a missing finger on their front paw?"
Arthur blinked, more than confused by that particular turn in the conversation, but decided to indulge the man. "My son's pet rat is missing a finger."
"Of course you haven't seen one, that was a strange thing to ask…" Sirius froze. "Don't tell me. Little grey rat, most indolent creature you've ever seen? Unusually keen for a rat?"
Arthur found himself nodding. "Yes- but so what? What link is there between your imprisonment and my son's pet rat?"
"Everything, Arthur." Sirius stood up from his chair, and suddenly he seemed to shift. His hair grew longer and shaggier, his unkempt beard growing thick under a lengthening nose, muscles shifting and reshaping themselves as man's figure shifted from a bipedal form to a quadruped.
Sirius had transformed into a dog- a ragged looking, underfed dog. Arthur stared in awe for a few moments as Sirius shifted back, and after a second Mr. Weasley shook himself out of his stupor. "That's certainly impressive, but I don't get how it proves anything-"
"I didn't become an Animagus alone- I did it at Hogwarts, with my friends. James, myself, and Pettigrew. A stag, a dog, and a rat." Arthur remembered the photo back in the Potter apartment in Diagon Alley- a great black dog that looked like a more well fed version of Sirius' form, and a rat...
"No." Arthur felt a chill go down his spine. If Scabbers was Pettigrew… Percy and Ron had looked after him for years, caring for him, feeding him, fretting over every sickness… and it was all a lie… "That rat!"
Sirius chuckled. "So you believe me. Tell me, where is he?" His initially jovial tone had shifted into a low hiss. "I'll kill him!"
"Let's not, Sirius." Arthur may have wanted to throttle the little creature, but he was an officer of the ministry- he couldn't just be accessory to murder, as much as he wanted to be. "How do you plan on getting inside Hogwarts, anyways?"
"Oh, I have my ways."
"Calm down, Sirius- even if you somehow got out, imagine the chaos you'd cause in the press," Sirius wasn't looking convinced, so Arthur decided to change tact. "Plus, imagine how Harry would feel if you just randomly charged up and killed his friend's pet rat."
"Harry? You know Harry?" Sirius was shaking with emotion now, although Arthur could recognize something almost like parental affection, instead of malice.
"Molly and I helped him shop at Diagon Alley just a little while ago."
Sirius leaned forward. "Tell me what he's like. Tell me all about my godson."
Seeing the desperation on Sirius' face, he couldn't help but start telling the man what he knew. "He's a remarkable boy- he takes after his parents so much it hurts..."
When Arthur left the cell, Sirius seemed significantly calmer, and was practically glowing with pride. Honestly, Arthur felt a little bad giving the man all that hope knowing full well that the prison would suck it all out.
Arthur left Azkaban significantly less happy than when he walked in- not much of a surprise, honestly, considering the island's guards. The Dementors certainly didn't help his dire train of thought- Sirius had been arrested without a trial and spent around a decade in Azkaban.
He would have been around Bill's age at the time- wasn't that chilling? Arthur had always worried about his elder boys, seeing them heading off into strange lands… the idea of them getting arrested by some foreign government and locked away in a place like this… Arthur shuddered.
"You alright? Take this." Arthur took something from one of the human guards in shaking hands- a bar of chocolate, wrapped in old looking foil. He unwrapped it and took a bite, trying to ignore the white fat blooms on the chocolate- clearly, it had been a while since anyone had visited.
There wasn't much to do in Azkaban except think- and even then, your happy thoughts were always at risk, likely to get sucked up by any passing Dementor. Still, Arthur's visit had given Sirius a lot to chew on.
Harry, Harry, Harry… his godson was out there, and he was in jeopardy. The way those muggles treated him, not to mention Pettigrew! Sirius couldn't just sit on his ass in Azkaban and leave Harry on his own… he needed to get Sirius. He chuckled to himself, before the Dementor's foul aura spread over him once again.
He needed to get out- he needed to see his godson, but Arthur had made a few good points. Harry was wildly famous- how would he get anywhere near him if the entire wizarding world was on high alert? Sirius still wanted to rend Pettigrew into pieces, but he had to hand it to the rat- he had made himself an amazing cover.
Sirius looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers, and began to chuckle before bursting into wild laughter that could put his cousin to shame.
And later that day, a dog slipped between the bars of a prison cell, slipped past the Dementors, and plunged into the churning depths of the North Sea.
Harry was pleasantly surprised to see that the center of attention at the Gryffindor table wasn't him, for once, although it was concerning to see that the stares were all centered on the Weasleys. He managed to grab someone's copy of the Daily Prophet- and nearly choked.
MINISTRY EMPLOYEE ARTHUR WEASLEY DEFEATS ESCAPED CRIMINAL SIRIUS BLACK!
That… was certainly a headline to start his day with, Harry supposed. Of course, how could he not continue reading an article like that? According to… Rita Skeeter's hard hitting reporting, Black had escaped from prison and made his way down the countryside with incredible place, seemingly on his way to the ministry. There really could have been a disaster there, considering how long it took for the ministry to catch on to his disappearance (checks in wizarding Britain's premier prison were apparently rare?) but he got into a fight with Mr. Weasley in London.
Apparently, Black was exhausted, on the run, and using a wand that wasn't made for him- so it was almost logical that it backfired on him, severely damaging a (thankfully empty) alley and leaving nothing but a hand behind.
Looking up at the professor's table, Harry could a wide variety of reactions. Several of the teachers looked downright relieved, with Snape in particular looking almost smug, while Dumbledore just seemed… very tired and very disappointed. Of course, having Gilderoy Lockhart crowing in their ears probably wasn't helping the professor's moods- he was probably bragging out how he would have shown Black what for, or something.
Whatever doubts Harry had about the man were only confirmed by his class and general behavior. Other than the odd treatment, as if they were members of some special celebrity club, Lockhart had an insufferable ego: who wrote a quiz about their own life? Even worse, he expected them all to read his trite from back to front.
Still, Harry was still holding out hope that maybe he was just a very power eccentric- the sort of man Dumbledore hired for sheer talent, even if it meant handling some character flaws. The pixie incident dashed Harry's hopes of learning anything in defense this year quite thoroughly.
Harry resigned himself to a year of self study- hopefully, things would just be completely normal for a year, and he could pour all of his time into studying with his friends, but Harry doubted it. Dobby's warnings, while probably not completely trustworthy (the elf seemed more than a little manic) seemed to point at something strange happening in Hogwarts. Perhaps that was just business as usual for the school?
Amos Diggory was taking a walk- he was always a little antsy when the school year started, when Cedric left for Hogwarts. His boy was a fourth year now, and Hogwarts was one of the safest places in magical Britain, but he still worried sometimes- perhaps it was natural.
If anyone would be sharing the sentiment, it was Molly Weasley. Well, Lovegood was probably going through the same emotions… he just handled them very differently from the average man. He seemed happy enough in his own strange way, but conversations with Molly didn't go in confusing circles.
He found Molly tending to her garden, which was not a surprise in of itself- the real shock was the black dog which followed her through the rows of plants. For a moment, Amos thought he was seeing a grim- but no grim would be that thin, and it just seemed… wrong for a grim to be missing a paw. Didn't really match the whole terror and dread reputation.
"Molly!"
She turned and gave him a grin. "Amos. It's good to see you- let me guess, you're worried about Cedric?"
"Of course I am- I thought I would have gotten it over it, eventually."
"I think it's natural to worry a little- I'm always worrying about Bill and Charlie. I suppose the best we can do is prepare them before letting them out into the world- or unleashing them, in the twins' case."
Amos laughed at that- he didn't want to imagine the kind of havoc Fred and George could cause when full grown. "You haven't introduced me to your dog, though- who's this charming fellow?"
The dog practically leapt onto Amos, slobbering wildly- clearly, while it was lacking a forepaw, it certainly wasn't lacking in energy. "Oh, Arthur found the poor dear, half dead and starving- and he couldn't just leave him there."
"I suppose it's something to fill the empty nest." Amos quipped.
"Laugh all you want- I'm sure you're feeling the same way."
"True enough- so, does he have a name?"
"He seems to like the name Argos."
And so the first pieces fall into place. Space approaches, my dudes. Admittedly, the amount of energy the runes took in might be a bit exaggerated- but I figure you could probably run a spaceship off of literally all the EM radiation that hits it, including the high energy nasty stuff, especially if you've got magic-batteries.
I was kind of on the fence on Sirius- I definitely wanted him to play a role in Harry's life, (plus I wanted to indulge in a bit of the "pureblood gawks at muggle accomplishment/science" trope) but I'm wondering if I jumped the gun a little. However, I am a sucker for caring god-father Sirius. I was genuinely considering breaking my chapter naming conventions and calling this one "Dog Days" or something, but decided against it.
I suppose if today's chapter has a theme it's parents- or rather, getting Harry some parents. The kid's twelve- he's certainly smart and ambitious, but I want to see him cooperating with adults. He can't overthrow the government alone after all.
As for the name Argos- it's the name of Odysseus' loyal guard dog- I thought it was rather fitting. Also, 3 legged doggos deserve love.
If it's not quite obvious, Argos = Sirius. He's hiding at the Burrow, undercover, where he can recover before meeting Harry. Also, I'm imagining he lived in the Potter apartment I mentioned- if memory serves he was living with the Potters for a while- simple enough to imagine him living in a smaller Potter property. I believe I got the idea from the fic "Overdue Protection" by PadyandMoony- I just wanted to see our dog boi out early.