Sirius's Problem
Dear Harry,
I've got a huge problem. I'm sorry to bother you with it, but you're probably the only person who can help besides Nicole, Ron, and Hermione. Oh, how can I put this-- um, -- here Harry could hear the embarrassment in Sirius' deep voice even in the letter -- Nicole's mother, Trina Moren, and I want to get married..... and you know what that means. I've got to have my name cleared. I know this will be hard, Harry, but you're one of the only ones who trusts me. Trina is doing as much as she can, and Dumbledore is helping, but we must lure Pettigrew and capture him, and you're the only one he'd even consider going after. This will be dangerous, yes, but we can do it. Trina and I will come to Hogwarts in advance, and we'll figure out the plan-- Dumbledore will look after us and make sure I have a place to hide. Go to Professor Willow..... I've sent her an owl as well and asked Dumbledore to explain everything. She might help-- she seems like a sensible woman. More so than Minerva McGonagall, at any rate. I hope to see you soon. Until then, I remain, ever after, Your proud Godfather, Padfoot PS. I heard about last year: it gave me quite a laugh. Harry, you're one of the best Marauders ever, blowing up the castle!
Harry blinked away sudden tears. He wanted to see Sirius again, badly. And he might be able to. Quickly, he read the letter in a whisper to Hermione, Ron and Nicole. "We've got to see Dumbledore," he finished desperately.
"I know that," snapped Nicole, looking worried. "We'll catch him after breakfast. We must."
"Aren't you surprised that Sirius and your mother are getting married?" asked Hermione.
"They mentioned something about it last year..... come on, Professor Dumbledore's getting up!"
They followed Dumbledore out of the Great Hall and into the entrance hall. He turned around. "Ah, Harry and the crew. Yes, I thought you'd be along..... anxious about Padfoot?"
"Who wouldn't be?" said Nicole. "Professor, I've got a couple questions, such as when will they be here, when can we go to Professor Sophie, and what the hell are we gonna use for a plan?"
"Sirius and Miss Trina Moren will be arriving in three days and they will have magically protected accommodations. You may go to Professor Willow at any time; I have explained to her and she may be able to help. I still do not know what we're going to use for a plan to lure Pettigrew, but we've got all year…. Although I'm sure Sirius would prefer that we do it sooner."
"How am I supposed to wait three days?" asked Harry rhetorically.
"Do your homework, for a change, and talk to Professor Sophie," said Hermione practically.
"Ha ha," said Ron sarcastically. "Not funny."
"We've got classes, you know," Nicole told them, "and we're going to be late to Transfiguration."
That afternoon, Harry tried to fit a chat with Professor Sophie Willow in that day, but his afternoon and everywhere until dinner was completely booked. He finally decided to skip homework and go see her right after dinner.
In Potions, Snape was being particularly nasty, Hermione was staring, dreamy-eyed at Malfoy, and Nicole was sniggering heartily at the antics of Crabbe, who was accidentally tipping things over because he was trying to read an issue of Muscle Man underneath his desk to impress Millicent Bulstrode.
"What the heck has gotten into them?" asked Ron, looking up and sneaking a glance at Crabbe.
"Head down, Mr. Weasley and work on your own potion," barked Snape. "Do that again and five points from Gryffindor." He strode over to Neville Longbottom's cauldron. "So close, Longbottom, so close," hissed Snape, taking out a ladle and scooping a large cupful out of the cauldron. Now everyone was looking up. "But not quite." He poured the purplish potion back slowly. "It's useless! Didn't you hear me say that four phoenix tail feathers would be enough? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?"
Neville whimpered. His eyes filled; he had almost gotten a potion right, only to be shot down by Snape once again. His eyes spilled over when Snape said poisonously, "That will be twenty points from Gryffindor."
Nicole reached over and gave Neville her hankerchief, glaring at Snape as though daring him to challenge this move. He did not.
Far away in a dark mansion, two figures, one short, one tall, sat in front of a fire, the tall one in a chair, the short one on the floor. A large snake lay curled on the hearth rug.
"Wormtail, you fool," hissed the tall figure in a voice colder than a winter storm. "I need those four more than you can imagine."
"But Master, why?" whined the short figure. The voice was that of a man, but cowardly and beaten, as if he was immeasurably afraid.
"I need Potter's power, White's will, control and persuasiveness, Weasley's strategies, and Granger's knowledge. Those children could win or lose me the war! If that fool Dumbledore has the brains to put those four in command of the army, they could raise a fighting force so determined that even I, Lord Voldemort, could not beat them."
"How can we trust them, even if they do work for us?" muttered Wormtail. "It's been tried before with that White."
"But that was the Snape and the Malfoy families, and their lackeys, not the Dark Lord himself," said the cold voice. "In time, they will come to see the light, or, as the case may be, the Dark. The chip WILL work, whatever say many. And you, Wormtail, will have the chance to serve me once again. If you fail, I dare say that Nagini, at least, will appreciate you….. as her dinner."
As hard as it was for Harry, three days actually passed, and before no time it was Saturday and they were hurried up to the Headmaster's office by Dumbledore. Harry had found no time to talk to Professor Sophie, and tried to tell the headmaster so, but Dumbledore kept saying, "Don't worry, Harry. It doesn't matter; you'll see." Dumbledore left Harry beside the door. He slowly pushed it open and went in.
Sirius was waiting for them beside a dirty-blonde haired, short, cute little brow-eyed woman that looked nothing like Nicole. "Mom!" Nicole went to hug the blonde woman. "Sirius!" She hugged him too. "Mom, meet Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Harry Potter. Harry, Hermione, Ron, my mother, Trina Moren."
Hermione and Ron muttered "Hello"s. Harry grinned at Sirius. "Long time, no see," he said happily.
"Indeed, Harry," replied Sirius, in an uncharateristic fit of dignity. "You have no idea how much I would have given to have been at the castle last year."
"Or, last year, at the pile of rubble that was the castle," muttered Ron.
"Living up to the Mauraders, are you?" asked Trina Moren. "Yes, I'd heard that the Weasleys, Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger could give 'em a run for their money."
"Yes, I guess, Ma'am," said Hermione clearly. She seemed perfectly comfortable around Nicole's mother.
"Just Trina, please..... proper disrespect and all that--"
At that moment, Sophia Willow breezed in. "Hello, Trina, Sirius," she said comfortably. "Been a while... still up to your old tricks?"
"Sophie!" Sirius and Trina said simutaneously. They both embraced her briefly.
"Sirius, this is a nice change. You're not looking like a convicted murderer who's been in Azkaban for twelve years anymore."
"Boy did he ever when he came to our house," joked Nicole.
"Effect and all that," retorted Sirius.
"And you, Trina, whatcha doin', taking up with a guy like Sirius, huh?" teased Sophie.
"Yeah, when's the wedding?" chimed in Harry, apparently encouraged by the informality of the proceedings.
"Uh, erm-- there is no wedding." Sirius was plainly uncomfortable.
"What?" Harry was confused. "But-- in your letter--"
"Um, yeah, I can explain that-- Voldemort's forces have moved into America. "Can you imagine the price on my head? Knowing about Pettigrew and being a trained Hit Wizard-- as well as an Auror? Voldielocks wants me dead, Harry, and if that owl was interrcepted, then what? Dear old Voldy musn't know that I know about his invasion." Sirius spun and stabbed a finger in comic indignation at Trina. "Besides, it was her idea."
"Was not!" cried Trina. "Well, actually-- but it was your idea to come here!"
"Why aren't you getting married?" Nicole was grinning.
"I just couldn't give up the girls," quipped Sirius, striking a Tim Curry pose.
Trina snorted. "Yeah, there's a lot of market for ex-convicted wizarding murderers."
"Oh, you'd be suprised--" Fred and George barged in. Sirius went stiff. "Ah, don't worry about that," said Fred, "Dumbledore explained. We've brought you a bit of a welcome home present, Sirius."
"Thank you," said Sirius, taking the bag and opening it. Inside was a box, wrapped in gold paper and stamped "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes Sampler Box".
Dumbledore came in and sat down at his desk. "Are we all here? Excellent. Have a seat. Now, as we all know, this is a planning session and its goal is to devise a strategy for clearing Sirius's name. I suggest we use the name 'Project 104'--"
Nicole shivered and bit back some sound.
"Or perhaps 'Plan S', even if Project is used by Muggles and would make it seem more ordinary," said Dumbledore, with a worried glance at Nicole. "Now, as Sirius himself well knows, Voldemort's hunters are after him. If we make sure that the word gets out that we've got Sirius, then we should be able to snag a Dark Warrior, find out where Pettigrew is and lure him. It's really quite simple-- Mr. Black, would you kindly not plant Ton-Tounge Toffy in my candy dish? I find a long tounge rather distracting and hard to work around."
Sirius jumped and looked up guiltily, hurriedly snatching at a few brightly wrapped candies that were in a small dish on the sideboard. "Uh, right, sorry," he offered.
"Quite understandable. Now, as I was saying-- oh, I finished, didn't I?"
Heads nodded.
"Good. Does everyone understand?"
"Yes," chorused the listeners.
"We hope," muttered Nicole.
"Fine then. That's it; you may go. Sirius, Trina, your rooms are down in the dungeons; I believe you know where they are," said Dumbledore. "This cat's eye agate will make you invisible. When you are done with it, simply place it in the dark and it will have no effect."
"Thank you, sir," said Trina as Sirius took the stone. They vanished: the door swung shut and closed with a snap.
"You two better go prepare for your class." Dumbledore motioned towards the twins. "Sirius and Trina will join you at eight."
"Right," said Fred. "Harry, can we borrow your Maurader's Map?"
"Sure," said Harry, bewildered.
"Where is it?" asked George.
"In my trunk, up in the sixth years dorm," Harry said, "but--"
The door slammed: the twins were gone.
"My door seems to be undergoing some serious abuse, eh?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Harry, Hermione, Ron, you may go. Nicole, I'd like to speak with you, if I may."
Harry and Hermione left. Ron lingered on the bottom of the stairs for an instant. "I wonder what he wants to talk to Nicole for?"
"I wonder what class Fred and George are teaching," said Harry. "They're supposed to be helping Filch. Got any ideas, Herm?"
"Well..." Hermione led them out into the corridor and lowered her voice to a secretive whisper. "I overheard McGonagall, and they're not really helping Filch-- they're here for this class. Gryffindors only; no teachers but Fred, George, Sirius and Trina. As to the rest of it, you'll just have to wait an afternoon."
"Aaaargh!" Ron was pretty clearly unhappy with having to wait. "You're teasing us!"
"Harry asked," Hermione pointed out. "Let's go. I want to have lunch."
Nicole came out of the staircase, seemingly half sad, half terrified. Her violet eyes were wide open; half-remembered, real-life nightmares lurked there. She looked-- haunted, somehow, as if the ghosts of memories snatched at her, and threatened to drag her down in a never-ending spiral of darkness. "Nicole, what's wrong?" asked Hermione with concern. "Wh--"
Nicole stiffened, arching her back as if in pain. She raised her hand and made a half-choked noise. "Nicole!" Ron shook her.
"Wha-- oh, I'm sorry," said Nicole. "I was just-- remembering. Day-dreaming, I guess." The haunted look was not gone-- indeed, it was more pronounced than ever, like a hunted beast that had no where to run.
"Remembering what?" asked Harry.
"I'd rather not--" began Nicole.
"--tell and she doesn't have to," finished Hermione, glaring at Harry and Ron. She slipped an arm around Nicole's shoulders. "Come on. Put your past, or whatever it was, behind you for now."
"You just want to get to the table because Draco will be there," said Nicole, slipping easily back behind her old mask of sarcasm.
"Like, duh, totally," said Hermione, doing a rather excellent impression of a prissy highschool Muggle girl.
"Like, he is so totally UN-hot." Nicole did an impression to rival Hermione's.
Ron made a disgusted noise. "Grow UP, you two."
A few hours before Fred and George's "class", Harry had Quidditch pratice. Gryffindor's new team captain was Katie Bell, and she had appointed new players to take over for the old ones who graduated. Ron was now Keeper; Nicole played the part of an excellent Chaser; Hermione was a Beater, (and, amazingly, seemed to like bashing Bludgers at people on broomsticks), and, incredibly, Neville was playing as the second Beater. He had grown in confidance considerably since last year, and was happy to be accepted. His flying had improved as well: he was a valuable member of the team-- Harry knew it, too. Katie wouldn't accept anyone who wasn't up to strut.
"I swear," he said to Nicole, Ron and Hermione as they walked down to the Quidditch field, "Katie's becoming just as fanatic as Wood was."
"And probably still is," muttered Ron. "He's definetly moved up from 'Reserve Keeper' to 'Team Captain' by now." They walked out onto lawns. Katie was impatient to get started; they had their next big match (Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw) in three days. "Harry," she told them in the locker rooms, "is the key, of course. That extra 150 points is always welcome."
"Just like always," whispered Harry to Nicole.
"But not as much as usual," Katie said, glaring at Harry. "We have three wonderful Chasers--" she pointed at Nicole, Alicia Spinnet, and herself "--and two suberb Beaters, and a Keeper who can pull off amazing stunts, and, of course, Harry. So let's get out there!"
The team, grumbling a little, trudged out onto the field. A brisk, cool wind was blowing the fluffy clouds across the sky, and the sun beat down warmly. It was the perfect weather, but Harry still didn't feel like Quidditch. Reluctantly, he climbed onto his broomstick and took off after the Snitch, which Katie had released earlier. He spotted it lurking near the bottom of the stadium, dove after it and caught it easily in his hand.
"Harry!" barked Katie. "You're getting complacent!"
"Com-- what?" asked Harry, bewildered. He seemed to be doing rather a lot of being bewildered lately.
"Complacent: over-confident, arrogent; relying on high quality instead of brains and reflexes," Katie explained. "You couldn't catch the Snitch at all without your Firebolt. When someone hits a Bludger at you now, you rely on your broomstick to swerve and dive fast enough to avoid it, instead of you ducking or twisting. You're depending on your broomstick, not your body and your brains."
"Am not!" cried Harry indignantly.
"Go ahead; try. You can still have a fast broom. Try the spare Nimbus 2000 that Ron's using. Harry, you can give Ron your Firebolt."
Harry took the Nimbus as Katie told Neville, "Bash the Bludgers at him as if he's on the opposing team; see how well he does. Harry," she called. "The Snitch is still loose. Go on after it!"
Harry circled the stadium. He spotted it, this time hovering near the opposite goal posts, and urged his broom toward it. The broom was much slower than he was accustomed to, and the Snitch flew downward. He followed it--
Whoosh!
A Bludger came hurtling toward him, aimed for his chest. Harry tried desperately to swerve, but the Bludger grazed his elbow anyway, nearly pushing him off the narrow broomstick.
Whoosh!
The other Bludger came in sideways. Harry dived, but the Bludger was faster. It was only a two yards away, only a yard--
Harry hunched just in time. It brushed past his head as Harry fought to stay on his broomstick: the last duck had nearly thrown him. A little maneuver like that would never have gotten you in the old days, he silently raged, carefully swinging his left leg more securely up and over the broom. Katie is right. I'll try not to rely on my broomstick so much, he vowed. Any pretty good Seeker could have gotten the Snitch three times over by now.
From the other end of the field, Nicole dodged Alicia Spinnet, zoomed past Ron and put one through the Gryffindor goal posts. She was quite a good Chaser; that was the sixth time she had scored with one Beater, two Chasers and a Keeper intent on stopping her.
Proudly, she glanced down at the silver lettering on her broom: Nimbus 2001. It had been a birthday present from Trina and Sirius, as well as a congratulations token for being accepted into the Gryffindor team. Sirius had been very happy; he had played as a Chaser on the Gryffindor team during his entire school career.
Ron wiped sweat from his face. It's hot out here, he thought. Especially when you're trying to stop the best Chaser at Hogwarts.
Face tight, Katie shot up to hover next to him. "Stay alert," she warned. "I'll try to chase Nicole down field where Hermione can get to her. Alicia Spinnet will stay here to help you if things get rough. Try to keep her from scoring again, but don't nearly kill yourself, like you did last try."
Ron had nearly slid from his broom to stop the Quaffle last time, but luckily he had managed to stay on. However, this time, he caught the Quaffle as Alicia Spinnet distracted Nicole. Tossing it back to Alicia, he watched carefully as Nicole "attacked", blocking the way of the two Chasers, Katie and Alicia. Intercepting a pass to Katie, she streaked back up towards the Gryffindor goal posts, the two other Chasers right behind her.
At eight o'clock that night, Professor McGonagall herded all the Gryffindors into the common room. "Stay there," she commanded, and left.
Seconds later, Fred and George emerged from their rooms.
"Sit," Fred commanded. The Gryffindors collapsed into chairs and sofas. "Now," continued Fred, "as I'm sure none of you know, we are not actually here to help Filch."
"That's just a cover-up," added George.
"We're actually here," said Fred, ignoring his twin, "to teach a class on the secret passages, tunnels, and rooms of Hogwarts."
"This class is only for the Gryffindors," George informed them, "as Dumbledore feels that you are the only ones who may be trusted with this information."
"Helping us"-Fred and George were speaking like two puppets-one right after the other-"will be three very nice people. But I warn you, do not scream…. No matter who they are. They are all perfectly innocent."
Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown exchanged nervous glances. Seamus Finnigan looked anxious. Harry and Ron bit their lips to keep from laughing; when George had said that last bit, they knew immediately who it was.
"Presenting….. Trina Moren, Sophia Willow, and Sirius Black!"
There were several hastily stifled screams and all the people in the front row nearest to the door dived hurriedly behind their couch as if expecting Sirius to leap out and curse them at once. Trina emerged from a doorway, nearly dragging Sirius behind her. He had apparently peeked around the frame to see the reaction of the crowd and was now doubled up, laughing. Behind him stalked Sophia Willow, admonishing Sirius and trying hard not to loose her dignity by laughing herself. Sirius finally got himself under control, shook off Trina, and sat down in a chair near the fire. Trina joined him, flopping on top of his lanky form. Sophia Willow sat down on the carpet, sprawling. "Park it somewhere else, Trina," Sirius grunted. "You're a lot heavier than you look."
"Thanks a bundle," said Trina dryly.
Through out this entire display, the Gryffindors had said nothing. At last, Fred noticed them. "Ah, I suppose you'll all be wanting an explanation, then," he said in what he clearly thought was a charming manner. A few people nodded mutely.
George launched into an explanation of Sirius's innocence, with Fred adding the occasional comment, but many students seemed loth to believe him, but George went on anyway.
"Dumbledore trusts this fellow," he barked. "And if any of you even breathe a word, I'm sure you'll enjoy a nice long detention. Now, normally I'm against punishments, so if I'm in favor of it, then it must be pretty-- well, serious."
The rest of the time was spent discussing the Marauder's map --and the various features-- as well as its creation.
A/N: Sorry peeps.. I know that was a LAME-O place to leave you, but I don't have time to format any more.....