The Secret Keeper 19
The Secret Keeper
Chapter XIX

Remus drew his cloak tighter around his shoulders as a sudden draft blew through the living room at Godric's Hollow. Outside, the sun was beginning its slow descent over the lush trees, and the light was starting to fade announcing the close of yet another glorious June day. None of the vibrant sounds of summer permeated the thick, granite walls of the Potter's former residence, however. There were no birds singing the evening chant such as Remus had often heard much to his delight at the Burrow; nor were there any insects or buzzing bees to lend that vital quality of life he had once known so well to the old, rustic cottage. Godric's Hollow was as dead as a house could be, despite the generations of Gryffindors that had filled it's halls with laughter and merriment. The deaths of Lily and James had marked it forever as a place dominated by suffering and decay, and it was difficult for Remus to sit within its walls without at least some of that sorrow and grief transferring itself to his thoughts.

It had been a long day, as he noted wearily, but no doubt it had been longer for Sirius, Arabella and Harry. He hoped that Dumbledore would hurry up, as he felt completely useless sitting around for hours and doing nothing to help his friends. For all he knew they could be dead already. He had been waiting so long that he thought he had actually started hallucinating. A short time ago he had even imagined that the inscription on the Potters' clock had changed from, "Deceased," to, "In mortal peril".

I did imagine that, didn't I? Maybe I should go back for another look. It seemed real at the time, though.

A moment later, Remus stood up and headed back into the kitchen, grateful for the perpetual heat of that room. If only Dumbledore had told him to wait in there! Scowling slightly, he raised his eyes to the clock, daring it to tell him he was crazy. Aha! I knew I imagined it! Despite the clock's confirmation of his own sanity, however, Remus did not smile as he returned to the living room. It saddened him that even after fourteen years of grief for his friends' deaths, part of him still had difficulty believing that it had ever occurred. If only-

Remus' body suddenly tensed as his perceptive ears detected a soft, swishing sound emanating from the wall to his right. He drew his wand and stood up, all the while listening to the unusual and apparently fast-approaching sound that was reminiscent of lush fabric brushing across stone. He remained calm, his senses unperturbed by the strange occurrence, and simply waited for whatever was coming. Having spent so much time in Godric's Hollow during his life as an Auror, he was well aware of its intense magical qualities and knew better than to panic. More than likely it was just the corridors rearranging themselves, or perhaps a ghost, although, as Remus reminded himself, there hadn't been a ghost at Godric's Hollow since the Potters had died.

The sound got closer and closer until it seemed like something was actually inside the wall! Frowning impatiently, Remus took a hesitant step toward the mahogany panelling, his eyes attracted to an almost imperceptible groove running through the dark grain that he was sure hadn't been there a moment before. No sooner did he notice this, however, than, without warning, a section of the panel began to open out like a door. Astonished, he leaped back, wand outstretched and all thoughts driven from his mind in his alert state. The door in the wall finally stopped opening to reveal a dark corridor behind it. Intrigued, Remus stepped closer. He was just wondering whether or not it would be sensible for him to investigate when he noticed a tall, thin, robed figure approaching him through the passage. He raised his wand cautiously and prepared for attack, but it was only Albus Dumbledore. The old headmaster smiled broadly at him through his half-moon spectacles, eyes lowering bemusedly to the wand pointed squarely at his chest.

"Well, Remus, you're still here, then".

"Wha- Yes, that is to say, I am. What is that?"

"Ah, an old passage... goes back to Gryffindor's time actually, but I'm afraid we don't have time for a history lesson. I've just come from the Ministry. My meeting with Fudge was most interesting, and I daresay Sirius will have a thing or two to say about it when he returns, but for now there are more important matters to discuss. It seems that a large party of dementors, under the command of certain Death Eaters, is currently making its way to Hogwarts-"

"So soon? We expected-"

"Yes, I know. Luckily for us, however, young Mr. Weasley's timely disappearance prompted a regrouping of the members of the Order, if you will recall, so we now have a large force with which to launch a counter-attack. I daresay the Azkaban guards will encounter considerably more resistance than they bargained for".

"Then we should be at Hogwarts!" Remus blurted out.

"Not just yet, Remus. I suspect we may be needed here more. The dementors have positioned themselves outside the apparition wards while they wait for their entire party to arrive, so we still have some time. Our own forces are not far from Hogwarts now. I owled Minerva to tell her to call off the raid on Azkaban and return to the school immediately-"

"But what about Sirius, Harry and Arabella?"

"I don't think we need concern ourselves with them for now. From my little examination of Sir Godric's passage I'm guessing that Harry already has what he needs to escape".

"You're speaking in riddles again, Albus!"

"Am I?" Dumbledore asked mildly, "An unfortunate habit of the old, I'm afraid... Now, how about a cup of tea?"

Remus laughed, "Well, if you insist... ".

***

Sirius stopped walking to peer back into the darkness for the fifth time. Now he was certain he had heard something moving behind them. It was no use Arabella telling him that it was just his imagination, or his terrifying memories of Azkaban returning to make him jumpy; somebody was definitely following them. Once again, however, no matter how hard he squinted he still couldn't discern anything in the black tunnel through which they had passed. Sighing, he led the three others onward towards the exit, his ears remaining alert to the slightest sound. There wasn't far to go now; already he could feel the air becoming cooler and less stale.

As eager as he was to leave the site of his former misery, however, so also was he becoming increasingly nervous as they reached the outermost perimeter of its towering, black walls. The closer they came to the exit, the more he felt the dementor-induced chill seep into his already cold bones, announcing his alarming proximity to the dreadful creatures. In addition to this, he had also begun to question the practicalities of his ludicrous plan, and to wonder how they would actually put it into action. What if the dementors weren't taking portkeys? Would they be able to swim to the mainland? Sure, he had done it once before, but he had then been driven by his obsession with killing Wormtail; also, he had been alone and responsible only for himself. He could not ask Harry to undertake such a hazardous journey in his present condition. James' spell had given him some amount of strength, but the Todis potion was still winding its way through his veins and killing him slowly. The slowness of his pace and the occasional loss of balance were proof enough of that. No. Their only hope lay in finding a portkey to return them to Hogwarts. Once there, he could warn Dumbledore about the planned attack on the school and, hopefully, obtain a cure for Harry's poison. Then, he supposed he would enjoy a large butterbeer and a square meal followed by a week of sleep. One thing at a time, Padfoot, don't get ahead of yourself...

Unable to banish the uncomfortable, paranoid sensation of being watched from behind, Sirius tightened his grip on Harry's arm and quickened his step, causing his godson to stumble slightly. He apologised quietly, feeling a twinge of guilt at having to drive Harry when he was so obviously unwell, but did not slow his pace. He felt Ron and Arabella raise questioning glances to him, but decided not to say anything that might frighten them or make them any more nervous than they already were, than he was himself. He remained silent and continued to hurry onward to the tiny pinprick of fading light in the distance. Presently, however, they were obliged to stop as Harry moaned softly and turned away from them, dropping to his knees near the wall and proceeding to vomit profusely. Sirius watched on helplessly, occasionally directing a searching gaze into the tunnel behind him and shuffling his feet impatiently. This isn't going to make things any easier. I hope he can hold out long enough to get to Hogwarts...

When Harry finally stopped vomiting, they continued their journey through the seemingly endless limestone tunnel, watching the orb of light ahead growing ever larger and less bright. Evidently night was falling outside Azkaban, as Sirius noted in surprise. Had it only been a few hours since they were captured at Godric's Hollow? It seemed like days had passed since his frantic rush from the Ministry of Magic to find his godson and tell him the wonderful news...

"Harry! I almost forgot! I hadn't a chance to tell you this earlier, but Moony and I found something amazing at the Ministry this morning. You won't believe it. I hardly know what to make of it myself-"

"Perhaps you'd like to tell us what, 'it' is, Sirius," Arabella snapped, the exhaustion and tension showing clearly in her voice, "Sorry, I'm just tired and fed up".

Sirius nodded in understanding and stroked her hair lovingly.

"'S alright, 'Bella. I know how you feel. Maybe this will cheer you up, however. Moony and I were searching Percy's office to try and find out what evidence he had against Fudge. You know, we think that's why he was killed, Ron. Percy found something in the Ministry's files that he wasn't supposed to see-"

Ron's face paled and he turned to Harry.

"What was it?" Harry asked his godfather in a faint but interested voice.

"My pardon... It said that, 'irrefutable evidence,' had been found, proving my innocence-"

Sirius felt a burst of pleasure at the sudden smile that lit up his godson's face, the reaction he had been hoping for. Arabella was looking thoroughly shocked and confused, however, a mixture of emotions that Sirius had rarely known her gentle features to display .

"What?! When?" she burst out, stopping dead in her tracks.

Sirius smiled wonderingly at her, marvelling at how quickly her heart could overcome her innate sense of reason. She looked so beautiful when she was angry...

"It was fourteen years ago, 'Bella, not long after I was imprisoned. The pardon was signed at that time by Cornelius Fudge himself".

"The Minister of Magic?" she gasped incredulously, "But, then, why weren't you released?"

"That's the mystery, and I don't know the answer, but after I left the Ministry for Godric's Hollow to deliver the good news, Moony said he would talk to Dumbledore about it. So hopefully, he'll have an explanation when we get back. Won't it be wonderful if my name is cleared, 'Bella? No more hiding in ditches and skiving off poor Moony. I'll have my old place back, maybe even get a job if someone will hire me-"

"You could teach Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts!" Ron chirped, "That'd be so cool! Mind you, they say the job is jinxed, but it'd be worth it just to see the look on Snape's face!"

Ron and Harry quickly broke off into a fit of giggles, soon joined by Sirius, who shrugged apologetically at Arabella.

"Hey, 'Bella, the first thing I'll do when I'm free is take you for a romantic bike ride up Mount Snowdon. What d'you say? Fast bike, me in leather, what more could you ask for?"

Ron coughed lightly and Harry chortled. Sirius ignored them, however, and turned hopefully to Arabella, the mock playfulness of his request not entirely concealing its true yearning and anxiety.

"Don't tell me you've kept that, that machine, after all these years!"

Sirius pretended to look hurt as he batted his eyelids and answered, "I've kept it just for you, 'Bella, since I know how much you really love it".

Arabella neither confirmed nor denied this statement and waited for him to continue, well aware that she was teasing him cruelly by not answering.

"Oh, c'mon 'Bella! Would you deny me the tiniest bit of happiness, after all I've been through?"

"I was wondering how long it'd take you to go for the sympathy approach! Have you no shame, Sirius Black?"

"No! At least not where you're concerned... Shut up, Harry!... Anyway, 'Bella, did it work?"

"Hmmm. Depends..."

"Oh? On what?"

"...on how tight that leather is!"

"Ah, well, I promise you it's very tight. You won't be disappointed. So what do you say? Saturday sound good?"

"We'll see... I hope that pardon is what it seems to be. Sirius, what evidence do you suppose they found, proving your innocence?"

"I haven't a clue, 'Bella. That explosion pretty much destroyed everything in the vicinity. I'll tell you, something, though. I'm not going to walk into the Ministry with that pardon and say, 'Here I am. I want my name cleared at once'. I'm going to stay hidden until I know they're going to let me go. I couldn't face having to come back here again".

"Will you be free to go, though?" Harry asked desperately.

"Well, maybe... I don't know. I hope so..."

"I hope so too because I don't think the Dursleys will want me back after what happened to the house!"

"They'll have forgotten all about it, Harry," Arabella began, "The Ministry made certain of that, so don't worry; whether Sirius is free or not, you'll still have a home to go to when all of this is over",

"Great," Harry mumbled unenthusiastically.

"You could always stay with us, if Dumbledore lets you," Ron pointed out.

"Yeah..."

At the mention of Harry's unfortunate relatives, the conversation abruptly ended. Sirius hoped more for Harry's sake than his own that Percy's evidence was all it claimed to be, since he desperately wanted to provide his godson with a proper home. To send him back to Privet Drive after the traumatic events of the past month would be a cruelty beyond anything he could imagine. Sirius knew that Harry was strong and that if he had to face returning to Privet Drive, then he would, but the injustice of it filled him with despair. It just seemed morally wrong that after all Harry had suffered and achieved in his short life, he had never known the acceptance and comfort of a loving family. Up until four years ago he hadn't even known friendship. No. The pardon had to be real, and once his name was publicly cleared, and his assets returned to him, he would give Harry the home he deserved. Perhaps Arabella would join them...

"Sirius?..." Harry called.

...It might be best to find a new house; his apartment in Bon Viveur Place might not be suitable for Arabella and Harry. And he'd certainly have to invest in some new furniture...

"Sirius!" Arabella roared, "Harry's calling you".

"What? Oh! Sorry, Harry".

"I thought I heard something behind us," said Harry, looking apprehensively back into the corridor.

"Yes, I know. I think we're being followed, so we have to keep going".

For a moment nobody spoke, but then Harry's trembling voice filled the silence, giving voice to all their fears.

"He is dead, isn't he?"

"Who?"

"Voldemort".

"Don't say the name, Harry!" Ron moaned.

Sirius looked sternly at his godson, while considering his response.

"You'd know better than me, Harry," he stated quietly.

"Why is that?"

"Well, you're the one who cursed him. Did it feel like he died?"

"I-I don't know. I've never killed anyone... but he wasn't breathing and there was no pulse".

"Well, there you are. Look, let's just concentrate on getting out of here, shall we?"

Harry nodded in agreement and hurried onward as best he could, trying to ignore the occasional footfalls that echoed through the tunnel in between those of his companions. Sirius walked a short distance ahead, not wanting to meet his godson's eyes. Harry always had the uncanny ability to know what he was thinking, and right now, Sirius was less than convinced of his godson's victory over the Dark Lord. He didn't want Harry to know this, however, when he undoubtedly had enough to worry about, what with the poison that was killing him and his own nagging fears about Voldemort's death.

The truth was, however, that Sirius had seen many people inflict the Killing Curse upon Voldemort over the years, and never with any success. Even James had tried it once, but the Dark Lord hadn't so much as lost his balance. It had been an unnerving spectacle, especially considering what a powerful wizard James Potter had been, but Sirius knew that Avada Kedavra did not simply bring death; it stole life. To kill a creature so wholly devoid of life as Lord Voldemort therefore required something more than the Killing Curse, and although Harry had had the added strength of the Penna Potissimus and the spirit of Godric Gryffindor himself, Sirius still had some lingering doubt that it had been enough. Having witnessed his godson come miraculously back to life from the same curse, he was in no hurry to jump to conclusions.

He would never forget the sight of Harry lying still in his dead mother's arms in the living room of Godric's Hollow, not making a sound. The baby had been so quiet and motionless that it had never even occurred to him to check if he was alive after discovering the corpses of his beloved friends. Harry had simply lain there, with his eyes wide open and a lightning-bolt shaped gash on his head. What had happened next, however, had caused Sirius to trip over his cloak in shock. Harry's tiny hand had shot up through his swaddle of blankets to grip onto Lily's sleeve and he had begun to cry, sending a stake of pure grief through Sirius' heart.

He had been completely convinced of Harry's death, just as Harry now was of Voldemort's, but Sirius had learned from the mistakes of his past. He was determined not to believe the evidence of his own eyes until it he heard it confirmed by Albus Dumbledore. Only then would he lavish upon Harry the praise he deserved.
Sirius was distracted as Harry stumbled once again and fell heavily to his knees. Turning around to help him up, his eyes were quickly drawn to something large and silver glinting faintly in the semi-darkness. He promptly heaved Harry to his feet, allowing him to lean on Ron's arm for support, and then drew his wand, searching desperately for the source of the light. He had not moved very far from his companions, however, when Harry suddenly emitted a startling cry and collapsed to the floor, gripping his scar in agony. Sirius swung around in time to see Harry sprawled on the floor, his body twitching and convulsing with pain while he continued to rub at the scar on his forehead, entirely oblivious to his surroundings. Arabella eyes opened wide in terror as she glanced at Sirius.

"'Bella, I thought I saw-"

At that same instant, though, Sirius felt something hard collide with the back of his head, knocking him almost senseless to the ground. While he dazedly tried to get to his feet, he was aware only a vast deal of noise and confusion, of flashes of light and screams of pain. He stood up dizzily, rubbing his head and waiting for his vision to clear. Through the diminishing haze, his mind focused on a single voice, menacing and demanding, but also familiar.
"Give them to me!...The wands!"

Fletcher!

Sirius raced over to help Harry, who was still struggling wildly to push Mundungus Fletcher off him. He raised his fist squarely, all knowledge of magic driven from his head in the fury of the moment, and prepared to slam it into the other man's skull with all the force he could muster. Before he could do so, however, another shrill voice echoed in the corridor behind him.

"P-Petrificus Totalus!"

Sirius had only a moment to regret his haste in rushing over to Harry, as his whole body suddenly went rigid and fell back onto the limestone pavement with a sickening thud. Unable to move, his eyes darted frantically in their sockets, searching for Ron and Arabella. Unfortunately, he could not see them in his narrow field of view, but there was no mistaking the short, dark-robed figure standing over him with his wand raised in triumph. That glint of silver...Wormtail... A moan from Harry, followed by a satisfied gasp from Fletcher announced the dark wizard's capture of the two wands in his godson's possession.

Heavy footsteps approached his side and a moment later Sirius found himself looking up into the smiling, pudgy face of Mundungus Fletcher.

"Well, Sirius, here we are again, old friend. You should have joined with the Dark Lord when you had the chance. It's too late now, however: Avada Kedav-"

Sirius shut his eyes and awaited the inevitable, but...

"Avada Kedavra!" a second voice roared from the darkness, cold and frightening.

There was a blinding flash of green light, but it did not emerge from Fletcher's wand. Sirius watched helplessly as Fletcher's body became stiff and fell forward, right onto his own torso. He groaned inwardly as the heavy wizard impacted with his chest, but his unmoving lips did not articulate the sound. Strong arms presently heaved Fletcher's corpse upward and pushed it aside. Sirius' pupils dilated in astonishment as he recognised his saviour. It was Severus Snape, and he was looking particularly pleased with himself.

"Get up, Black!"

Bloody Snape! I'd get up if I could, you moron! He doesn't even know the full body bind when he sees it...No wonder I always beat him in Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"What?... Oh, did he use a petrifying spell?"

Moron! Of course he used a petrifying spell! But how am I supposed to tell him that? Hmm... I'll just give him my most evil, Azkaban escapee glare.

"Right. I'll just see to Potter then-"

What! Oh you slimy, little... Get back here now! Damn it... Where's Wormtail?

Sirius could do nothing but listen to Snape's footsteps as he moved away from him. Presently he spoke to Harry.

"Potter, do you have your wand? "

Sirius heard Harry's quiet, weak voice respond.

"No. Fletcher took-"

"I'll get it," Ron said.

"Will you get Voldemort's too?" Harry asked.

After a moment, Ron came over to Sirius' side and muttered, "Finite Incantatem". Sirius stretched himself luxuriously and rose to his feet, thanking Ron under his breath, and hurried over to Arabella, who had her wand trained on a characteristically terrified-looking Peter Pettigrew. Wormtail opened his mouth to speak and tried to take a step forward, but Sirius was in no mood for listening to his excuses or pleads of mercy. Ignoring him, Sirius turned murderously to Snape.

"I always knew you were a petty, spiteful little-"

"I should have known better than to expect any gratitude from you for saving your miserable, worthless life, Black".

"Please, you two," Arabella asked, "Will you stop arguing? We have to get out of here. There are probably more Death Eaters following us".

"There are," Snape stated simply.

"What about him?" Ron asked, pointing at Pettigrew.

"We'll take him with us. I can't think of more, 'Conclusive evidence,' of my innocence than that".

As Arabella pushed Wormtail ahead with the tip of her wand, Sirius wandered across the cavern to help Harry, who was still half-sitting, half-lying on the ground. He was alarmed to see that Harry was looking decidedly worse, his face almost completely devoid of colour and his green eyes dull and lifeless. He hardly seemed to have the strength to stand, and Sirius knew that he would not be able to go on any further without the antidote. He let his godson sink weakly back onto the floor, where he remained, fingers playing wearily with the two wands that Ron had returned to him.

"Wormtail, give me that phial!"

Pettigrew turned and looked hesitantly at Sirius. Sirius knew that look well; it was the same look that Wormtail had always adopted prior to darting under Prongs' long legs to escape Moony in his more violently playful moments. Sirius approached him alertly, preparing to draw his wand at the first sign of trouble, but Wormtail slowly began to lift the string bearing the phial over his head. Sirius extended his hand to accept the bottle, but Wormtail was not forthcoming; instead, he eyed it curiously, taking his time.

"Now, Wormtail, or I'll blast you through that wall!" Sirius growled impatiently.

"And lose your only chance of freedom? I doubt that-"

"Not my only chance, actually. As long as I provide the Ministry with a body part larger than your finger, I'm sure it'll have the same effect... Now, give it to me, or else!"

"Fine, Sirius... Catch!"

All of a sudden Wormtail flung the glass phial into the depths of the tunnel. As it rose high into the air, everyone turned and tracked its trajectory, their mouths aghast. Sirius followed the phial's path with his sharp eyes, watching as it arced precariously close to the rocky walls. Without thinking, he raced after it, extending his long arms, but too late. The bottle smashed loudly against the wall, sending shards of glass and splashes of dark liquid flying in all directions. At the same moment, Harry screamed and dived face downward onto the ground, his hands searching all around him.

"Harry?" Sirius called, his voice still laced with the fury of seeing the cure destroyed when it had been so close to his grasp.

"Wormtail!"

Only then did Sirius realise that one of their number was missing. The rat had escaped again. Furious, Sirius pounded his fist into the cave wall and turned to see Harry watching him tearfully.

"What's wrong, Harry?"

"Voldemort's wand... It's gone," he said, in a hollow, lifeless tone of voice.

Sirius watched in horror as Harry sank onto the floor, abandoning himself to the misery of seeing his only hope of restoring his parents to life so suddenly taken away from him. He looked helplessly at Arabella and Ron, finding himself speechless and unsure how to comfort the unfortunate boy.

For a long time, the five sat in stunned silence, each lost in their own thoughts and fears; even Snape seemed unusually subdued and thoughtful.

Sirius eventually turned from the dark exit ahead to the black tunnel behind, and wondered where Harry would find the strength and courage to face his destiny in the light of such intense disappointment. For he knew that the pain in Harry's scar could only mean one thing.

Lord Voldemort was still alive.





A/N: Sorry for the repost, but I had to sort out that damn html stripping problem. The chapter looks much better now (I hope). Contrary to popular belief, including my own, there are two more chapters rather than one, so I'm afraid you're not rid of me yet. Please keep reading and reviewing, as I love getting feedback.
Pleiades.