ICLYLM chapter 20: "Dog Days"
James Barnes spent two nights staying in the hospital wing before returning, reluctantly to his own home. The owl Dumbledore had received from Severus that first night had not been followed by any other communication. Unless the Headmaster could think of something, they were in for what looked like a considerable wait. The phrase "leave of absence" told them it looked to be a long haul. The phrase "medical emergency" also suggested that Snape had been brought in to assist Jeffrey. James and Dumbledore agreed that it seemed most likely that Voldemort was planning on keeping Phoebe pregnant as long as possible in hopes of her delivering the child. Neither had any illusions about what would happen to Phoebe. It would kill her.
Neither man stated it aloud, but both feared Jeffrey would be killed once his usefulness had run out... likely with the birth of the child. Snape was another matter entirely. His position had become more and more precarious over the last several months. Frankly, Dumbledore had already feared for Snape's life any time he was called to meet Voldemort or the Death Eaters. The situation was grim, indeed.
The students, on the other hand, were little troubled by the absence of their Potions Master and Ancient Studies Professor. Many thought it an odd, if not unfortunate, coincidence that both had taken leave at the same time. Normally the mutual disappearance of a male and female professor would give rise to a riot of rumours. Since one professor was the dreaded evil Snape no one could take the notion that he and Taylor had eloped or some such thing seriously. Most came to the conclusion that Professor Taylor was very ill, indeed. As for Snape? Well they were just glad to be free of him for a time.
Other teachers had divided up Taylor's classes for the rest of the term according to who was best suited to each. Trelawney, for instance, was given the Runes classes (much to Hermione Granger's chagrin). Professor Tincture, an elderly retired professor, had been engaged to take Snape's classes for the remainder of the term. Tincture went through the curriculum methodically and tended to pass anyone who did the work, regardless of how well they did it. The students had the impression he just didn't have the energy to do more.
For the students, therefore, things returned to normal very quickly. Indeed, it didn't take long for them to find things about which to complain regarding their new, old, professor.
Hermione in particular.
"He's not teaching us, really," she observed at lunch one day, "He's just telling us to do what the book says. That wouldn't be so bad if he cared how it went; but he doesn't. We don't need to go to class for that."
"Count your blessings, Hermione," Harry said as he reached for a tureen full of stew.
"Yeah, anything is better than rotten old Snape," Ron agreed, "He could never come back for all I care."
At that moment Hermione noticed that the Headmaster had been passing their table. He paused, ever so briefly as Ron spoke before continuing on. She could swear that a look of great sadness had crossed his features at Ron's comment. Perhaps it was her imagination. Perhaps not. After all, the Headmaster would be concerned about any member of the staff, wouldn't he? Her attention was distracted, however, when Neville Longbottom brought up Professor Trelawney. She had a few things saved up to say about HER...
Dumbledore took his place at the staff table with a small sigh. He wasn't hungry but it wasn't good for him to be absent from too many meals. He needed to put in an appearance even if he didn't eat. Lupin sat down next to him, looked at the Headmaster's empty plate and made a small noise of disapproval.
"You'll waste away to nothing if you don't start eating, Headmaster," he said in a low voice.
"I suppose," Dumbledore replied, but did not fill his plate.
After about ten minutes the Headmaster rose and left the hall. Lupin looked at his retreating back and put his fork down. That was enough. Something was clearly going on and it was time he asked the Headmaster directly. The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor took a last pull of his pumpkin juice and rose to follow Dumbledore.
He caught up with him as Dumbledore said the password to open the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to his office and rooms.
"Headmaster, a word?" Lupin asked. Dumbledore nodded and gestured for him to go ahead of him onto the spiral staircase.
"Albus," Lupin said as soon as they were in the Headmaster's office with the door shut, "What is going on?"
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows but said nothing, considering.
"Come on! Snape and Taylor disappear, You stop eating, and I find out today that Jeffrey Barnes has been gone for about the same period of time Severus and Phoebe have. What happened to them?" Lupin asked... clearly having decided on a VERY direct approach.
Dumbledore sighed softly and sat down on the couch in his office motioning for Lupin to find a seat as well. Remus took one of the squashy chairs opposite Dumbledore's couch.
"I will be revealing a great many confidences in telling you this," Dumbledore said as Lupin nodded seriously, "It is a measure of how stymied I am that I do this. Still, I could use some perspective, Remus.
"Professor Taylor joined the ranks of the Death Eaters as a spy at the beginning of term," Albus began. Remus caught his breath, "Death Eater initiation rites are rather brutal. As a result of hers, Phoebe is with child," the Headmaster paused here to give Lupin a moment to digest. A terrible sadness crossed Lupins face even as a flash of anger lit his eyes. He gripped the arms of his chair very hard as Dumbledore continued.
"It seems likely that the child is Voldemort's," Dumbledore said simply, pausing again.
"In the name of all things holy..." Remus started, "Merlin's beard, Albus, how do you countenance such a thing?"
"There's more," Dumbledore continued evenly.
When he had finished explaining it all Lupin sat in stunned silence; trying to absorb all that he had been told. His mind and his heart were reeling with the news. He didn't know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't this. He got up and began pacing slowly through the room. Dumbledore watched him for a moment, then rose and moved to his desk, letting the younger wizard absorb the information at his own pace.
When Lupin finally stopped he turned and asked, "Do we have any idea where they are?"
"Nothing firm," Dumbledore conceded, "My spies indicate that Voldemort has grown fond of using his family's old mansion near Little Hangleton. They also indicate that it is probably at least as well protected as Hogwarts. In that case checking to see if they are there, let alone bringing them out, becomes a very difficult matter."
"But not impossible," Lupin said thoughtfully, "After all, despite all the protections and ward charms on Hogwarts some have still managed to find their way in uninvited, haven't they? In fact, persons against whom we were specifically guarding have made their way in."
"Black?"
"Yes. As an animagus he got into Hogwarts at least twice or more during Harry's third year, didn't he?"
"Indeed."
"A stray dog might be able to 'sniff around' the old manor, don't you think?" Lupin said.
"I have considered that option very carefully, Remus," Dumbledore said, "but I am stymied by my concerns."
"Which are?"
"I worry about sending Sirius to the place where both Voldemort and Peter Pettigrew are likely to be. To be safe... and to bring our colleagues out safely, he'll need to keep his wits about him and I'm not sure that will be possible in proximity to them."
"After what the two of them have put him and the people he loves through, it's natural he would have some resentment," Lupin conceded.
"And Sirius has quite a temper. He's always tended to lead with his emotions, not his head." Dumbledore sighed, "Doing that around Voldemort could easily cost him his life."
It was Lupin's turn to sigh. "Sirius wouldn't appreciate my saying so, but you're right. Twelve years with the Dementors in Azkaban hasn't helped, either. But do we have any other viable options? Minerva, for instance?"
" Minerva must stay here. She and Severus are the only ones who stand ready to protect Hogwarts after I'm gone." Dumbledore said in a remarkably even voice. He paused, then continued, "If we were to use Sirius what do you honestly think the chances of Peter recognizing him would be?"
"I have no idea," Remus said thoughtfully, "He'd be the most likely of any of us to not recognize another as an animagus... but I can't say he wouldn't with any certainty; not with the stakes this high."
"Still, if we told him to take special care to steer clear of Pettigrew so he wouldn't be recognized that might mitigate at least that problem." Dumbledore mused.
"Also," Remus said, "Voldemort is more likely than most wizards to recognize an animagus even if he doesn't know who that animagus is. Sirius would have to steer well clear of him for that reason as well."
Dumbledore and Remus looked at one another knowing they were agreed... and knowing that they never would have if they hadn't felt as desperate as they did.
By early dawn the next morning a black dog was trotting across a scrubby field in the direction of The Riddle House, Dumbledore's stern cautions still ringing in his ears. Part of him wanted to resent Dumbledore's obvious concern that he would see Peter and lose his head. Another part of him realized that he really couldn't say that wouldn't happen. The dog sighed.
He paused to look around and get his bearings. It was then that he heard the sound of other dogs nearby... two or three in that copse of trees just over the field. Well, this was good fortune. He turned and trotted in the direction of the sound prepared to meet his three new best friends.
They were mutts, all three. One clearly had a terrier or two in its recent lineage, whereas the other two seemed to be combination of retriever, setter, and beagle. They all had the tough look of animals who must take care of themselves. The larger dogs stiffened when they caught scent of Sirius. The terrier/mutt began yapping happily.
"Shut up you little git!" the darker of the large dogs growled.
"Duh! Big dog, strange dog, caution is called for," sniffed the brown one.
"Duh, yourself! IknowIknowIknow! I'm scaring him away with my barking!" the terrier insisted.
"Great job," growled Blackie as Sirius trotted into sight.
"Very effective, Ripper," sighed Brownie.
Sirius hung his head and lowered himself a bit on his haunches to try and indicate submissiveness. The other three dogs just stared. He rolled over playfully and put his paws over his nose. That always worked with humans.
"This one's weird," Brownie said and Sirius sat up very straight.
"I understood that!" he barked.
"Oh, very good! What did you expect us to speak, CAT?" Blackie ruffed grumpily.
When Sirius was Hogwarts he had kept company with Prongs and Mooney. Since then he'd avoided other dogs. He'd no idea he would be able to talk to them! Damn, if he'd known that earlier it could have saved him a lot of trouble, especially this past year.
Once he'd gotten them to trust him Sirius had an interesting "conversation" with the stray dogs. True, they weren't sparkling conversationalists, but they could communicate with one another far better than he'd imagined dogs could. He'd learned that humans were living in the run down manor. It was a poor location to beg for scraps, they told him, but the people inside rarely came outside and didn't seem to care if animals sheltered in the outbuildings. The dogs foraged in town, but slept out at the manor. None could really tell Sirius much about the people in the house... the dogs got a very bad feeling when they got too near and thus tended to steer clear of it.
As Sirius moved toward the house, itself, a short time later his hackles rose and he understood what his canine friends had meant. About ten or twenty feet from the house every dog instinct told him to turn right around and not come back. Still he pushed forward. The gray early light wouldn't last much longer and he wanted to look around a bit before he needed to lie low. He hunched next to the foundation and took in the information his senses were disposed to give him. It looked run down, smelled moldy, and sounded... what was that? A dirty window near the ground a few feet away had noise on its other side.
Sirius moved over to the window, listening hard. It was coated with dirt and had a mass of untended weeds and grass growing in front of it. He pawed away the weeds and put his face next to the filthy glass. He could make out some light, but the rest was obscured by the dirt. He licked his nose and rubbed it on the window to clear a spot. Again he looked in.
A pale-faced man was looking up at him from the floor many feet below. He didn't recognize the man. He could be the healer Barnes from Dumbledore's description. Sirius licked his nose and cleared a larger space. Now the man could see he was a dog and looked... what? Relieved? Disappointed? He couldn't tell. There was fireplace with a fire and a bed with someone lying in it... very still. A woman. She fit Dumbledore's description of the professor. He'd bet his tail it was them! With that he turned and kicked up some dirt on the window. It stuck to the wet places nicely. He pawed the weeds back to something like their original position.
The Sun was growing brighter and he had an owl to send. He loped off for the field and for town. Truth be told he was happy to get away from that awful house.
