"Harry!" Seamus Finnigan looked up from a raspberry tart. "Where've you been? What happened last night?"
"Dunno, got knocked out," said Harry dismissively, hastening to an empty golden plate which became instantly heaped with all manner of delicious foods the moment he sat down before it. He began shoveling buttered rice into his mouth, answering Seamus's questions through grunts and nods. His fellow Gryffindor, although curious, quickly realized that Harry was in no condition to talk ("My God, when did you last eat?") and after a while left for the common room.
Harry was left alone in the Great Hall, or so he thought. When he had finally eaten his fill he looked up to see McGonagall still sitting at the High Table. "Professor!" He jumped, nearly choking on chocolate pudding. McGonagall sat stiffly as a board while Harry coughed. "What are you doing here?" She didn't answer; simply arched an eyebrow, studying him sternly. Harry tried again, feeling discomfort color his face. "I mean...everyone's gone..."
McGonagall stood and swept over to him. "That was a very foolish thing you did last night, Potter."
Harry looked down. "I'm sorry, ma'am." He bit his cheek. "But he is my godfather."
"Potter!" McGonagall looked swiftly around the Great Hall, which wasn't empty enough for her. She pursed her lips and stared down at him. "Godfather or not, you could have been hurt. Even killed." She paused, drawing in a breath that sounded suspiciously close to a laugh. Harry looked up sharply and saw smile twitching at the corners of McGonagall's stern mouth. "As for your attack on Professor Snape..." She bent down and murmured quietly, "If it weren't against every school rule, I'd be tempted to award you a hundred points or two. Well done, Potter. He's had it coming to him."
A sharp stab of guilt lanced through Harry and the laugh he had felt welling up inside of himself suddenly died. Instead he ducked his head, as if hiding a grin. "Thank you, Professor."
"Harry." McGonagall's expression softened; Harry started at being addressed like this. She sat down beside him. "You must realize that what's happening is no child's game." She held up a hand to halt his indignant protests. "You-Know-Who has returned; you know that better than any of us. If you can think of anything--anything--you felt or saw in your encounter with him you haven't told us already, we need to know." Her eyes lingered on his scar as she spoke. "This is important."
"How am I supposed to help if I don't know half of what's going on?" demanded Harry, thoroughly frustrated.
McGonagall's lips set into a hard line. "You will be told when you're ready."
"Well, maybe I'm not ready, but I need to know now."
The uncharacteristic sorrow that had mixed with Professor McGonagall's uptight demeanor deepened at the quiet anger in Harry's voice. "We were afraid of this," she said softly, grimly. She laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, stiffly but genuinely. "Sometimes, Potter, ignorance is truly safer."
"I don't care."
"Don't be rash. You will care, when you're ready."
"That's all I've been told for five years," said Harry bitterly. "I've faced Vol--You-Know-Who twice and lived. Isn't that enough?"
McGonagall studied him keenly. "Accomplishments are important, but they are not everything." She sighed. "In time, Potter. All in good time."
Harry said nothing. McGonagall stood, straightening her hat. "Go back to Gryffindor tower. I don't want anyone wandering about the school." She turned and left.
****
"What's wrong, Harry?"
"Hm?" Harry looked up to see Rosie Hether, a sixth year, sitting in the chair opposite. "What?"
"Why the long face?" Rosie was a pleasant, earthy girl who was confident without putting on airs as Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil did. There were times when she swore she should have been sorted into Hufflepuff.
"What long face?" said Harry, trying to smile.
"This one." Rosie dropped her chin into her hands and made an exaggerated pout. Harry couldn't help but laugh quietly.
"I'm just tired. Bored. Ron and Hermione both aren't here this year."
"Oh." Rosie nodded knowingly. "The Weasleys are having trouble."
"How did you know?" asked Harry, surprised.
Rosie grinned. "I know a lot." Her hazel eyes turned sober; she glanced around the empty common room and lowered her voice. "Most everybody knows about it. It's not pretty, what's happening with the Ministry."
"Fudge with his head shoved up his ass," muttered Harry.
Rosie laughed. "What did you say?"
"Ron's quote."
"I agree completely," said Rosie seriously. "Fudge is a bureaucrat through and through. He's been trapped by his own pride and his own red tape."
"And you didn't even swear." Harry laughed again; he couldn't help it. Rosie made people laugh.
"Oh, I didn't this time," answered Rosie darkly. She stood. "Chess?"
Harry shook his head. "No, thanks. I think I'll just sit here and levitate things."
Rosie laughed. "Whatever suits you. Hey, how are you studying for your O.W.L.s?"
"Cramming the day before the tests," deadpanned Harry.
"Hell, go for it." Rosie reached out a hand to lean against the chair and jumped as she received a static shock. "Ow!" Her foot jerked and kicked something under the chair; Harry leaned forward as a clear sphere the size of his fist rolled out into the open. It was glowing a bright red.
"Neville's Rememberall!"
Rosie knelt down to pick it up. "He must have forgotten it," she said with a wicked smile. "I'll keep it for him...although, you know, he's been much better about remembering things this year."
"He's been much better about everything this year," said Harry. "It's strange."
"Oh, you don't know?" Rosie raised her eyebrows. "It's getting chilly in here." She pointed her wand at the cold fireplace and muttered under her breath. Blue flames leaped from the tip of her wand to the logs resting amid the ashes and began burning merrily.
"Know what?" Harry scooted his chair closer to the fire.
"His parents!" Rosie's face fairly glowed. "They're recovering."
Harry shot to his feet. "The ones in St. Mungo's?"
"Yes! They recognized him last summer. They're remembering things!"
"Oh, my God." Harry dropped back into the chair, feeling a warm smile break out over his face. "That...that explains a lot."
It was amazing, Harry reflected later after Rosie had left, how such simple news about a friend could leave one feeling as though the world was a beautiful, beautiful place, even if the feeling were short-lived. He clutched on to that lesson and that feeling as tightly as he could. Something told him that in the near future, it would be important.
****
Harry didn't wait until bedtime to break the rules. Immediately after dinner he slipped into the shadow of the marble staircase in the foyer and waited until everyone else had reached the second floor. Only then did he cautiously lift the silver latch and retrieve the invisibility cloak from just inside the secret passageway. Once beneath it, Harry made his way silently to the hospital wing.
Twice he was almost discovered by Filch, escaping narrowly by pressing himself very, very close to the wall. Even then Mrs. Norris seemed to stare right at him, her nose twitching and red eyes glowing, before slinking after her master. What he wouldn't give to kick that cat across the school...
Several minutes later Harry found himself standing before the door to the ward. He reached out with painstaking care and gently, gently pushed down on the handle. Harry let out his breath and held another one in as he pushed the door inwards as slowly as possible.
The hinges let out a spiteful creak. Harry cringed and froze. When no Peeves or Filch came swooping down on him he slipped through the door and pushed it softly closed. He padded quietly past the empty rows of beds to Sirius's room, only to find the door standing open. His eyes narrowed as he crept closer to stand in the doorway. Rysk was sitting next to Black's sleeping form inside the room. As Harry watched she reached out and shook his uninjured shoulder. "Black."
Sirius let out a strangled cry and bolted straight up. Harry's hands balled into fists as Rysk clapped a hand over his godfather's mouth while grabbing the back of his head. Sirius struggled wildly for a moment before Rysk's quiet, "Shh!" sank in. Black went limp and after a moment Rysk released him. He pulled away, breathing hard. "What the hell are you doing?" he gasped.
"Just looking for some conversation," she said coldly, pulling the chair closer. Sirius eyed her with apprehension. It seemed that only a Dementor could have had a worse effect on him.
"Rysk, hear me out, I'm--"
"Innocent. I know."
"Then why're you looking at me like that? Stop it. You know that scares people."
"Have you eaten?"
Sirius blinked. "What? Yes, yes...Madam Pomfrey brought food up..." He passed a hand over his face. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm supposed to watch over you. Give Pomfrey a break."
Sirius's eyes suddenly lit with a driven, almost obsessed light. "Do you know what Dumbledore's doing?" he demanded, sitting up straighter.
"Yes."
"That's not funny, Rysk," snarled Black.
"It wasn't meant to be."
Sirius's muscles tensed. "Tell me," he said in a low, dangerous voice.
Harry could hear the arched eyebrow in Rysk's words. "Are you threatening me, Black?"
Sirius lunged forward and grabbed fistfuls of Rysk's shirt. She jerked back, taking hold of Sirius's wrists, and threw him down onto his side, twisting his arm cruelly as she did so. Black cried out and lay unmoving on the bed. Harry bit his lip so hard that he tasted blood; he wanted desperately to leap forward and knock Rysk away from Sirius. After a tense moment Sirius let out a dry sob. His shoulders shook. "You have to get him back," he said raggedly, raising his head to stare at Rysk. The helpless, angry torment in his face twisted Harry's heart. "You have to save him. If...if he..."
"If he what?" Rysk was emotionless.
"You know what I'm saying!" snarled Black. "What are you doing?"
Rysk seemed to hesitate. She reached up and tightened her hair, secured in its usual ponytail. "We have three days."
"Three days. Why three days?"
"That's how long it is to the full moon."
Sirius's gaunt, sickly face drained of all color. His voice was a hoarse whisper. "Oh, my God. No." He slowly collapsed inwards on himself, curling into a tight ball. "No, no, no, no...!"
That was it. Harry jerked forward before he could catch himself. His shoe scraped against the floor and Rysk twisted sharply around in the chair. Harry froze: she was staring right into his eyes. She searched the air around him and then slowly, decisively turned back as her grey eyes flashed in an unnerving manner.
Harry's breath hitched painfully as Sirius began sobbing quietly in earnest and wet tears appeared on the mattress, but he dared not move; he hardly dared to breathe. Rysk watched his godfather for a moment. "Crying is a waste of energy," she said with cool contempt.
Sirius's head jerked up. "I haven't cried for years, Rysk," he hissed, making no effort to check the tears that stained his face. "Shut up. You just shut up, you don't know what I've been through."
"I'm the reason you can cry right now," said Rysk harshly.
To Harry's surprise the anger and defiance left Sirius's face to be replaced by a flood of hot shame. He made no answer.
"Dumbledore is trying to contact the rest of the Order," continued Rysk. "Do you have any idea where Voldemort might be?"
"No," said Sirius miserably. "Just not in Ireland."
"We have three days." Professor 'Harrison' stood and looked down at Black. "Dumbledore'll find a safer place for you tomorrow." Her eyes narrowed. "Are you sure you can't think of anything? Not even the direction?"
Sirius shook his head. "I lost all sense of direction chasing after them," he said hollowly. "Didn't even stop and get my bearings until they started coming after me."
Rysk nodded and reached out with one hand to brush away a tear on Black's face. Sirius looked as shocked as Harry felt, flinching away at the touch and staring at the strange witch as though seeing her for the first time. "Go to sleep." Rysk checked her watch. "Pomfrey'll be up soon." She turned to leave. Harry came to his sense in time to begin backing out of the room as she advanced.
"Rysk."
She stopped, dropping her head toward one shoulder. "What?"
"I never thanked you."
Something flickered in Rysk's eyes. Her icy voice softened. "Don't."
Harry flattened himself against the wall as Rysk walked past. He didn't dare let out his breath until he heard her leave the ward. He didn't dare move until her footsteps faded away into the distance.
