Chapter Fifteen: Footsteps

They spent the whole of the rest of the day and the next night under their web of protection spells - resting while Remus healed. Sirius - it turned out - had bought antiseptic creams and bandages and sticking plasters from the grocery store when he had done the food run two days ago, and between them they patched up Remus as best they could.

The worst injuries, this month though, were the bruises. Sirius said Remus had spent the night howling and flinging himself against the bars, trying to get free. He had got more and more wound up as the night progressed and, for a moment, Sirius had been concerned he would do himself a serious injury. He had spent so long hurling his full, wolfish weight at the bars - in an attempt to smash through them - that he hadn't had the time to nip and bite and scratch at himself like he normally did.

And Padfoot had - on occasion - got him to lay calmly. Remus assumed that must have happened just as the sun rose, that must have been when he got into the sleeping bag…

But, calm periods or not, he still had massive, sickly yellowish bruises across his ribs from his continual battering at the bars. And there was nothing they could really do about them except wait for them to fade.

As always, Remus had not wanted Sirius looking at his chest - seeing his scars - and though Sirius had tutted and reiterated that Remus had no need to cover up in front of him, Remus still insisted on turning his back on Sirius while he cleaned up the scratches and bites on his front, leaving Sirius to sort out the ones on his back.

Sirius' hands were unusually gentle as they rubbed the cream into his wounds, he noticed. But he tried to ignore the way Sirius touching him made him feel, tried to keep his thoughts furiously neutral, and desperately fought back the moan of longing that threatened to escape his lips… it wasn't fair to be feeling this way or thinking these things when Sirius only thought he was helping out a friend. If Sirius had any idea how Remus really felt, then he would not be doing this for him … Remus could not turn this into something it wasn't. They were friends. Brothers. But not anything more and they never would be.

Once again, Remus spent most of the day and the whole of the night asleep. His sleep was more restful now, and he felt more refreshed every time he woke up. Refreshed enough to wonder just what it was Sirius did all these hours while he was dead to the world. And then - once he was stronger - they removed the protection enchantments and, for the first time in well over a week - actually apparated somewhere. They were headed to the wizarding town of Gnomagrad.

...

Gnomagrad was built along the banks of a shining, blue river - surrounded by trees and with snow capped mountains in the distance. There was a large stone Keep guarding the gate to the town, a domed church and then, right beside it, a domed mosque with a minaret. The houses were all built of thick, whitish stone which made them look like something that had been carved out of the mountainside itself. The roads were wide, but dusty, and shade was in short supply.

They entered the town warily - on the look out for any Ministry officials who might be hunting them.

'Where should we look first?' Sirius asked, gazing about the town. 'Find the ice cream parlour?'

'It's never failed us before.'

'Well, Peter is as predictable as he is fat and useless. Come on, then. Let's find it.' They walked through the dusty streets, keeping their heads low and eyeing up everyone who came past them with suspicion. They were particularly keeping their eyes peeled for one short, squat and toadish witch in particular.

'It's not that I particularly mind being sent back to jail for things I'm innocent of - or even having my soul sucked out by dementors,' Sirius said. 'I just mind if it's toad-face who captures us. I don't want to give her the satisfaction.' His grin grew wicked, 'though maybe you could buy your way out of trouble if you offered her the right favours… if you know what I mean. '

'I will hex you,' Remus said calmly.

'I'm just saying, she's hot for you.'

'And I'm just saying, I'll hex you.'

They walked past a little boy - of about seven or eight - riding a toy broom along the side of the road. They glanced at him, he looked up at them … and then his eyes went wide and startled. He got off his broom and ran away, down a side street, disappearing from view.

Remus frowned. 'What was that about?'

They found the ice cream parlour and went inside, immediately relieved by the cool gloominess. A bell tinkled over the door as they opened it and a witch looked up, smiling. She wore a headscarf over her greying hair and large, dark glasses even though she was inside and it was dim in here. 'Two men,' she said, 'strangers to the town … British? Am I right?'

They glanced at each other. 'Er - yes.'

She raised her dark glasses revealing eyes that were completely milky white - they stood out startlingly against her dark skin. She was blind. 'I'm always right,' she grinned directly at them, as if she could see them just fine. 'It's in the footsteps.'

'You can tell we're British by our footsteps?' Remus asked.

'I can tell you have a Welsh mother.'

'No you cannot!' he said in disbelief. 'That was a lucky guess.'

She laughed in delight.

'So -' Sirius said, 'we're actually looking for someone - who I suppose you haven't actually seen with the … blindness and everything - but who might have been in here. English, like us - no Welsh mothers. But not tall and handsome, like us -' Remus gave him an amused and incredulous look, but he was ignored. 'Short, kind of fat and ratty? Going bald … though I don't know if you can hear that in his footsteps.'

'I can hear many things in a man's footsteps,' she said seriously.

'But did you hear that he was balding?'

'I heard he was sweaty.'

'That's him. He would have been asking about Albania.'

'Yes - he was here only yesterday.'

'Yesterday? But…' they exchanged another incredulous glance. 'We thought we were miles behind him,' Remus said.

'Well,' she shrugged. 'He was here yesterday. He said he was tired - which I could smell from the sweat.'

'I thought you heard the sweat in his footsteps?' Sirius countered

She only grinned. 'He also smelt .. ratty. Like you said. He smelled of rats. It was most pungent. Most peculiar. See... ' she leaned over the counter and sniffed them both, 'you are a dog and you … are a werewolf. But the scent of the animal is fading on you both. On him - it clung to him. It was recent. He had recently been a rat.'

'He lived as one for twelve years,' Sirius said.

'Then I can imagine it does cling to him.'

Remus was watching her closely. 'Er - aren't you going to kick me out? For being a werewolf?'

But she only shrugged. 'You have not done anything wrong in here.' Perhaps she could sense the surprise on his face, because she smiled at him. 'When you are blind you learn to see past prejudices. You do not sound or smell dangerous. Your footsteps tell me you are an honest man. If you look dangerous … well, I am afraid I cannot see that. I can only take you as I find you with the senses that I have.'

'Er - thanks.'

'So - you buy ice cream and I tell you all about your ratty, little friend?'

They agreed to her terms - and got a hot fudge sundae each and took a seat, while she told them all she knew about Peter.

He had - as she had said - passed through just yesterday, weary and sweaty and stinking of rat … and she had known from his footsteps he was up to no good. 'He was shifty - in his gait,' she told them, 'not like the two of you. He walked as if he was furtive, secretive … I did not like him much.'

'I have to say we don't like him much either,' Remus said mildly.

'He is a bad man,' she said, and it was not a question.

Remus nodded - and then remembered she couldn't see. 'Yes. A very bad man.'

She looked triumphant. 'It was all in his footsteps.'

'And his ratty, sweat stink,' Sirius said.

'That too.'

'So - what did he ask about Albania?' Remus asked.

'Strange questions - how many day's journey it was on foot…'

The boys frowned at each other, 'why is he walking?' Sirius said.

'Where the thickest forests are - I asked him why I should know? I am Bosnian - not Albanian. And then he asked…' a tremor passed across her face, visible even underneath her dark glasses. 'He asked if I had ever heard rumours of a spirit haunting the forests out there - of something dark and mysterious, a shadow … I told him I know of no such thing and that I don't want to know. Whatever he is getting involved with - it sounded like dark magic to me, and I want no part in that …' She stared down at them - and her expression was so attentive and stern that they almost forgot she couldn't actually see them. 'You boys are putting a stop to him, yes? That is why you are following him?'

They nodded - and then remembered. 'Yes, yes we are. Or we're trying to.'

'Then make sure you succeed. Your Ministry - are they after him? I hear they are swarming these parts.'

They looked at each other gloomily. 'Not after him, no,' Remus admitted.

'Well - he didn't like them being around. He complained. Said he was having to travel incognito to avoid them. Said it was slowing him down. He wanted to stop off at Zacaranivac next, in Montenegro - asked how long it would take him to walk there.'

'And how long will it take him to walk there?'

'It is about 90 miles … he could do it in three days, if he pushes himself.'

'He won't,' Sirius said darkly.

'Let's find Zacaranivac on the map,' Remus said, getting it out. 'We don't have to walk there, but it will be dangerous for us to spend three days hanging around a wizarding town. We need to go via muggle places - but we can aim to get there at the same time as him.'

They bowed their heads over the map, poring over it … But the patch with Montenegro on it seemed to have suffered more water damage from their dip in the sea than most other parts. The ink of the place names had run making them very difficult to read, the letters all blurred together. And whole chunks of the paper were flaking away leaving holes in the landscape.

'Er - hang on a minute - er…' Sirius' eyes were darting all over the surface. 'Yes - I think I've got it. There!'

Remus frowned, as he looked where Sirius was pointing. 'Are you sure?'

'Must be - starts with a z and ends in a k. I can't make out the other letters though.'

'Doesn't it look … a bit … short - to say Zacaranivac?'

'Well - I can't see anything else that fits the bill.'

Remus looked up at the witch. 'I know you can't see the map,' he said apologetically. 'But can you tell us anything about where this town is - so we know we're looking in the right spot?'

'It isn't too far from the border,' she said. 'It's near a mountain. Bobo - Bobotov something or other.'

'Bobotov Kuk,' Sirius said, jabbing at the map again. 'Yes - it all fits, that's definitely it.'

They put the map away, the witch bustled away back behind her counter and the two of them ate their sundaes quietly. 'You know - I think we're finally going to catch him,' Sirius said. 'The net is tightening.'

'Lets not count our hippogriffs before they've hatched.'

'Speaking of ...I wonder how Buckbeak is doing?'

'I wonder how many muggles have spotted him?' He scraped up the last of his ice cream. 'I'm just going to nip to the toilet,' he said. I'll be back in a minute.'

Sirius nodded and Remus got up and walked towards the back of the shop, where the bathrooms were.

'So how do you like my country?' he heard the witch ask Sirius.

Sirius gave his bark of a laugh. 'Ha! It would be beautiful, if the muggles didn't keep blowing it up.'

'Ah - yes - the war,' her voice was sad. 'We wizards stay out of it, but still … it is terrible, the way they fight. How much they hate each other … Still, we can hardly say we are better. The stupid ways we hate each other for no reason … I'm sure your poor friend knows all about that.'

Then the bathroom door swung closed behind Remus - and the conversation was cut off.

...

It was as he was washing his hands that he realised something was wrong. He looked up to see his own face blinking back at him … only he wasn't looking into a mirror. It was a photograph - on a poster. And he didn't have to speak Bosnian to understand what the strange words printed in capital letters across the top must mean:

Wanted: Dead or Alive.

His heart froze in his chest - while his picture scowled back at him … He wondered for a fleeting moment where they had possibly found such a surly looking photograph of him - before he felt the full flood of molten panic rush through him, turning his insides to ice and fire at the same time …

And he remembered the boy - the one who had run away. He looked to the door in alarm - thinking of Sirius sitting out there, blissfully unaware.

He snatched the poster from the wall. Under the photo it bore his name and an unfamiliar word: vukodlak, which he was willing to bet all of Sirius' money meant 'werewolf', and then a promise of a 5000 galleon reward.

He came hurtling back out of the bathroom - both the witch and Sirius looked at him in alarm.

'We've got trouble,' he said, his voice was grim - and he thrust the wanted poster under Sirius' nose.

Sirius' eyes grew wide. '5000 galleons reward money! Moony - you should hand yourself in. That's more money than you'll ever have.'

'Yeah? What do you think the price on your head is, if mine's 5000? Where there's posters of me, there's posters of you. We need to leave. It isn't safe here.'

'Is there a problem?' the witch asked, frowning beneath her glasses.

He went over to the counter and shook the poster in her face, though she couldn't see it, of course. 'This poster - in the bathroom - do you know what it is?'

'Yes - it's a wanted poster. Your Ministry came and put it up, they're hunting dark wizards … is it a poster of the man we spoke about?'

'No,' Remus said shortly.

The witch suddenly inhaled and looked up, her brow furrowed and she turned her face towards the window - as if peering out. 'Do you hear that?' she asked.

'Hear what.'

'Footsteps. Lots of them. Dangerous footsteps.'

There was the sound of chair legs scraping back, and Sirius got his feet. 'What is it?' he asked, crossing to the window and peering out himself.

'The boy,' Remus said, 'the boy on the broom - the one who saw us and ran away - he must have seen the posters. He must have recognised us. He went to get…'

And then - through the glass - they saw a large and angry crowd come around the corner. Their wands were raised, their eyes were dark and flashing. The little boy from before raced ahead of them. Their footsteps marching in time made the earth rattle and shake beneath their feet. It felt like an earthquake coming to swallow the pair of them whole.

'They've come for us-' Remus said, gripping tight hold of Sirius. He felt all the blood drain from his face - and when he looked at Sirius, he was equally pale. 'What do we do?'

'What's going on?' the blind witch asked. 'what is happening?'

Remus glanced between the oncoming crowd and the only possible help they had. 'It's me in the wanted poster,' he told her.

'But you are a good man - I heard it in your footsteps!'

'Yes - but they think we're responsible for all the crimes Peter - our rat friend - has committed. It's us the Ministry are hunting.'

'You need to leave - now.'

The crowd had gathered around the ice cream parlour, the door was surrounded. One wizard picked up a rock and hurled it at the glass … it smashed right through and landed on the floor beside them. They jumped back. Another shouted 'incendio' and a fireball erupted from the tip of his wand and exploded in the sky like a firework.

And then someone small and squat and smiling broadly on her froggy face stepped to the front of the crowd. Her magically magnified voice rang through the quiet ice cream parlour.

'Hem Hem … Sirius Black … werewolf … you have thirty seconds to come out and give yourself up. Otherwise we will all come in and get you…' Her smile became broader. 'I cannot promise you will survive the experience.'

'We need to get out of here,' Remus said, 'grab the case.'

'Where do we go?'

'I'll let you out the back,' the blind witch said, 'then apparate straight to Zacaranivac - across the border. I will try to slow them all down for you.' She led the way - navigating through her shop as if she could see all the obstacles in her path perfectly well. They could hear the crowd growing louder - more fireballs exploding, more rocks being thrown, jeering and stamping and catcalling - and the sound of a countdown being led by Toad-face. She was on ten.

The backdoor was thrust open and they stumbled out into a dark alleyway. 'Thank you,' Remus said to the witch. 'How can we ever repay you?'

But she shook her head, 'just go - just go.'

'We didn't even pay for the ice creams.'

'No matter -' she turned to look back towards the crowd, her face was frightened. 'Go - stop the rat! That is what matters.'

He nodded, gratefully. 'Ready?' He took Sirius' arm - he tried to block out the noise of the mob and his own panic, his breathlessness and his frantically beating heart, and instead pictured Zacaranivac on the map. He raised his wand.

He heard the sound of all the windows of the shop shattering, the glass tumbling to earth and smashing - and a great cry as an entire angry mob surged forwards as one…. Before he twisted into nothingness and vanished from the street.

...

His feet touched solid ground once again - the sounds of the mob were left behind. He barely had time to register that the new sounds were all wrong: the cars, the beeping horns, the sounds and sights of the muggle world - before he heard another noise that made his blood freeze.

It was a hideous, desperate, panicked, gagging sort of sound. And it was coming from the floor. By his feet. He looked down.

Sirius was lying there, spluttering and choking and groaning. A huge gouge of flesh had been taken from his arm and he was bleeding out, a great puddle of red pooling around him - and he was beginning to shake and turn pale as his body went into shock.

Remus stared down at him in horror. Not understanding what had gone wrong or how this could be … but, somehow, Sirius had been splinched.