Author's Notes: I'm so sorry about the cliffhanger at the end of Part 5, and I'm sorry to have taken SO long getting this part up - I've been incredibly busy with Real Life. I was blown away by the number of reviews I got though - thank you *very* much for all the reviews and suggestions! (Can you spot your suggestion in here?)
Also re. Part 5: Lightning Dancer wins the prize for spotting the mistake - Hermione couldn't have transfigured the apples in Part 5 because she's not allowed to use magic in the holidays! Actually I realized that after I'd already uploaded Part 5...never mind!
See end for more author's notes.
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No Easy Goodbyes - Part 6
The lid of the chest was so heavy that Harry struggled to lift it, and Ron had to lend a hand before they managed to raise it completely and lean it again the wall behind. A cloud of dust flew upwards in its wake, making them all cough again.
Hermione covered her nose. "Urgh, something smells a bit musty in there," she said, leaning away from the chest. "More old robes, maybe."
Harry and Ron did not pay much attention to her complaint. They were too busy peering eagerly into the chest, trying to see what was in there.
"More old Daily Prophets," said Ron disappointedly, lifting the yellowing sheets which covered the chest's contents. They began to crumble away in his grasp, and he dropped them hurriedly in a pile on the floor, wiping his hands. "Yuck."
"It's not full," said Harry, looking into the depths of the chest. "Some more books, I think - what's this?" He pulled out a long woollen strip and showed it to Ron and Hermione. The colours were dimmed by dirt, but it was possible to see what it had once been - a red and gold scarf.
"Gryffindor colours," said Hermione, turning it over in her hands.
"Maybe Professor Lupin used to wave it at Quidditch matches," Ron suggested. This comment reminded all three of them that Harry's father had probably played in those matches. Harry noticed that his two friends exchanged looks and waited to allow him to lift the next item from the chest, realising that this was quite likely to become personal for him.
A few more old school textbooks of Lupin's did not interest them very much, but the last two books did. One was called "The Home Mediwizard - potions and remedies for all ailments." As Harry leafed through, he noticed the page folded over to mark a recipe for a healing balm to cure scratches and cuts. He passed the book to Hermione without comment, thinking of the matter-of-fact way in which Lupin had once described the pain of his transformations to them.
Underneath "The Home Mediwizard" was a magical cookery book, full of recipes.
"I think my mum's got that one," Ron murmured, as Harry opened the book to see a message written in faded ink on the flyleaf in a pretty, rounded script.
"Remus - I'm sending you this in the hope you'll learn to feed yourself a bit better - you're still too thin! No point giving this to James, we both know Hogwarts will fall into the lake before he learns to cook! A very Happy Birthday to you, with love from Lily."
Harry ran his finger over the faded words without speaking. He had never seen his mother's handwriting before. Hermione and Ron looked at him sympathetically, but did not say anything as he laid the book gently beside him on the floor and turned back to the chest.
There was not much else in the chest - a large, dusty leather wallet, a long bundle of fabric which looked like more old robes, and a small wooden box. Harry picked up the leather wallet first, wiping it on his sleeve. When he opened it, he found that it contained an untidy bundle of photographs and a couple of letters. He picked up the letters first. Two were boring business letters from Gringotts, confirming various withdrawals and deposits, but one was a note scrawled in the energetic writing he already knew belonged to Sirius.
"Moony,
I suppose you and Prongs are laughing yourselves sick about your little exploit last night. Very clever. Ha ha. From now on I'm going to keep my bike AND my leathers AND my boots far away from both of you. The lovely Demetra was NOT impressed, and I'm sure I'll never get another date with her, but I suppose that was your plan, you pair of toads. You will PAY for this, you just wait!
Your ex-friend, Sirius."
Harry grinned at this, and showed the note to Ron and Hermione.
"Wonder what my dad and Remus did to Sirius?" he said. "I'm going to ask him later."
"Yeah, I'd like to know too," Ron said. "He sounds pretty mad, whatever it was."
Harry turned his attention to the bundle of photographs. He already had an album containing some photographs of his parents, but he was hoping there might be some more of them here. The first picture, however, was a snapshot of Sirius in a sunny garden, leaning against a powerful motorbike. Young, his face unlined and happy, he looked very much as he had in Harry's parents' wedding pictures.
"Wow, look at that bike," Ron said enviously, as Harry gave him the picture. "I'd love to have one like that some day."
"I'm sure it's not strictly allowed, enchanting Muggle motorbikes - it must come under the same laws as flying cars," Hermione murmured, but she said no more, seeing the expressions on the boys' faces.
They were all interested in the next photograph. It was a Quidditch team photo - seven teenagers in Gryffindor team robes, five boys and two girls, posing happily with their arms round each other's shoulders and broomsticks lying on the ground in front of them. Harry recognised his father standing in the middle of the photograph, holding a large silver cup which was unmistakeably the Hogwarts House Quidditch Cup. His face was alight with triumph and his black hair was all on end.
"I didn't know Sirius ever played for Gryffindor as well," Ron said over Harry's shoulder, pointing to the tall dark boy at the left of the picture.
"I suppose I've never asked him about it," Harry said, looking at the rest of the team but not recognising any of them. He knew just how they were feeling though - he remembered his own feeling of triumph when Gryffindor had won the Cup in his third year and Oliver Wood had passed him that self-same cup. He turned the picture over, but there was nothing on the back, not even a date.
All the remaining three photographs did have writing on the back of them, however. The first was a snapshot of Lily, looking about sixteen or seventeen, and another girl with curly dark hair. Lily was holding a black cat in her arms and the other girl was holding a white cat. On the back was written, in a rather loopy ornate hand, "James says this photo is proof pos. that we're just girlies who like fluffy animals - I told him to watch out because we girlies know a few nasty curses too! See you next term. Love, A." Harry wondered who "A" was, as he turned the picture over again to have another look at his mother's face.
The next picture was a group shot, of five people sitting round a table on which drinks and ice-creams were placed. "Looks like Florean Fortescue's - or somewhere very like it," Harry said aloud, looking along the row of faces. James and Lily next to each other, then the dark-haired girl - A - in the middle, with Remus next to her and Sirius beyond him, his long legs stretched out. Sirius was lifting his glass to the photographer, and the others were waving. On the back, in small, rather niggly writing was scribbled, "Thought you might like a copy of this - it came out quite well. See you soon. Peter."
"Pettigrew," Harry murmured, sudden disgust making him unwilling to touch the writing or the photograph. The old familiar anger against the man who had betrayed his parents - betrayed all the friends in that smiling group - was rising up in his throat.
Hermione looked at the photograph. "I suppose he must have taken the picture. That must have been a long time before - you know..." She trailed off. "What's the last one, Harry?" she asked, clearly trying to distract his attention.
Unfortunately, the last photograph did not make Harry feel any better. It clearly dated from a time after his parents and their friends had left Hogwarts, as the two young men in the picture were at least twenty-one. Against a background of tropical palm trees and sandy beach, Sirius, wearing a brightly-coloured shirt and shorts, was holding a cocktail glass. So was his friend, a much shorter, plumper young man, dressed in similar clothes. They both looked as though they were having the time of their lives.
"Is that - " Ron frowned, looking at the picture uncertainly.
"Wormtail again," Harry confirmed heavily. Although the Peter Pettigrew he had met was much older, not to mention balding, this was obviously a younger version of the same man. It made him feel sick to think that Sirius had been so unaware of what was to come, at the time. He turned the picture over to read the last inscription - Sirius's writing this time.
"Moony, you may well be jealous. This place is Paradise, you should have come. Peter and I are having to beat off the gorgeous women with a stick. We'll give you and James the uncensored version when we get back. Cheers, Sirius."
Harry couldn't help smiling at these comments, even though the sight of Pettigrew still made him feel ill.
Hermione stacked the photographs and letters into a neat pile. "Is there anything else in the chest, Harry?" she asked quickly.
"Yeah - a sort of bundle, and a box." Harry reached into the chest, and pulled out the little wooden box. When he shook it, he could hear something heavy rattling inside, but he couldn't open it. "Must be spelled shut."
"We'd better ask Sirius or Professor Lupin to open it," Hermione said, obviously regretting that she wasn't allowed to do magic in the holidays. A simple opening charm would have been easy for her.
Harry gave her the box, and pulled out the long bundle of fabric from the bottom of the chest. "This is heavy."
"These robes stink," Ron complained, as they laid the bundle on the floor and set about unwrapping it. As they untied knots, Harry began to suspect what the object was, and as the fabric fell away he knew his suspicions were correct. It was a broomstick. The long, slim handle was dimmed by age and lack of polishing, and some of the twigs in the tail were worn and broken, but there was still something special about it. Ron and Harry both examined the handle eagerly for a name.
"Silver Arrow II," Harry read. "I've heard of those - didn't Madam Hooch tell us about them once?"
"Yeah, they used to make them even before Cleansweeps and Shooting Stars," Ron answered, stroking the broom's handle reverently. "This is practically an antique. Sylvester Toadflax used to ride one of these when he was Seeker for the 1966 England team that won the World Cup, Harry!"
"I don't know about antique, it just looks old to me," Hermione said, looking over their shoulders. "Do you think it belonged to Professor Lupin?"
"Let's go and ask him," suggested Harry.
"We can ask him about this box, too," Hermione said, rattling the box again as she got off the floor and headed towards the ladder. Ron carried the broomstick, and Harry the bundle of photographs, as they climbed down carefully from the attic and went to look for Remus. They found him in the sitting room, sitting writing at the desk. He smiled as he looked up and saw them.
"Well, I don't know if the attic is any cleaner, but you three certainly aren't. Ron's mother is going to have a fit when she sees the state of him."
"We - er - sorted out the things in the attic," Harry told him, perching on the arm of the sofa, while Ron and Hermione sat in the armchairs.
"We found this Silver Arrow - is it yours?" Ron asked, holding the broomstick towards Remus.
Remus took the broomstick from him and ran his hands over it. He sighed. "I haven't seen this for a while - I'd forgotten it was still up there. Yes, it's mine now, but it used to belong to your father, Harry."
"My father?" Harry looked at the broom with new interest.
"Yes. James used it for most of his time at school. It won many a match with him, I can tell you. Then, in our sixth year, he got himself a Silver Arrow III and he gave this one to me - I had a very old Speedy Six, which we used to joke could be overtaken by a snail." Remus gazed affectionately at the broom, before handing it back to Ron.
"Good lord, isn't that Prongs's old Silver Arrow? I haven't seen that for years." Sirius had come into the room.
"It's been lurking in the attic for years," said Remus. "They found it when they were clearing out."
"What else did you come across?" Sirius asked with interest, leaning on the back of the sofa.
"Um - a lot of old books, and newspapers and stuff," said Hermione.
"And these photos and letters," said Harry, holding them out to Remus, who picked up the Quidditch photograph first.
"See this, Sirius? I remember that day - that was the day the Gryffindor common room caught fire during the celebration party."
"I didn't know you were on the Gryffindor team with my dad," Harry said to Sirius.
"Only for one year," said Sirius, as the photograph was handed on to him. "I was a Beater."
"With a tendency to get carried away," said Remus. "You were supposed to hit the Bludgers with that bat, not the opposition!"
Harry, Ron and Hermione all laughed at this, but Remus had turned to the picture of Sirius and Peter Pettigrew on their beach holiday, and his smile had faded already. He passed it wordlessly to Sirius, whose face darkened as he saw it.
Seeing this, Harry tried to divert their thoughts from the friend who had betrayed them. He pointed to the picture of the two girls and their cats. "Who's that girl with my mum? She's in another of the pictures too."
"Hmm? Oh, yes." Remus's expression was curiously blank as he looked at the picture of the two girls. "A friend of your mother's - Alexandra Davies."
"Better known as Alex," said Sirius. "She was a Ravenclaw - good Quidditch Chaser, too."
"We know a boy called Roger Davies," said Hermione. "He was the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain last year. Is he any relation of hers?"
"Er - her nephew, I believe," said Remus, laying the photograph aside. He clearly did not want to discuss Alex Davies any further, and something about his manner stopped Harry and the others from asking more questions. He picked up the motorbike picture and the indignant letter from Sirius instead, and began to laugh. "Oh - Sirius - you must look at this."
Sirius read the letter, looked at his friend and burst into laughter too. "Gods, I'd forgotten about that!"
"What did they do to you?" asked Harry. "Did they do something to your bike?"
"You could say that," said Remus, still chuckling. "Sirius was so proud of that thing - he polished it every day, and he used to go round in these mean black leathers and big black biker boots."
"It came in handy for impressing women," Sirius admitted. "Until your father and Moony here - well - "
"We happened to know that Sirius had a date with a rather beautiful, but rather disdainful girl called Demetra - "
"There was nothing wrong with her," protested Sirius.
"Lily said she looked as though she had a bad smell under her nose - " continued Remus.
"Sounds like Malfoy's mum," Ron muttered to Harry.
" - So James and I decided to play a little trick on Sirius. We timed our intervention rather well - "
"With the result that, just as I was using my best chat-up lines on Demetra, my bike turned bright pink, my leathers started to smell of very old cheese, and - "
"And his biker boots turned into fluffy bunny slippers," gasped Remus, who was almost laughing too much at the memory to speak clearly. Harry, Ron and Hermione were giggling too. "James and I saw it all from a safe distance..."
"It took me quite a while to see the funny side of it," Sirius admitted.
"She wasn't your type, Padfoot, trust me."
"Did you ever get your own back on them?" Harry grinned.
"Yes I did - but I'm not sure that story's suitable for someone of your tender age," Sirius said.
"Oh dear, I haven't laughed that much in ages," Remus said, wiping his eyes and shuffling the photos into a pile. "I'm glad you found these, Harry - we should remember the fun we had then, even though terrible things happened later."
"There must be lots of other funny stories about my mum and dad I don't know," Harry said, rather wistfully.
"We'll try to think of a few to tell you while you're here," Sirius promised. "Anyone ready for a snack?"
Harry and Ron were, but Hermione had remembered the box she still held. "We found this too, but it's spelled shut. Do you know what's in it?"
Sirius took the box from her. "Something else I haven't seen in years," he said thoughtfully. "I wondered where this had got to."
Lupin's wand was lying on the desk. He got up and passed the wand over the box in Sirius's hands. "Alohomora!"
There was a soft click, and Sirius lifted the wooden lid. The only thing in the box was a large silver key, rather tarnished. Sirius stroked it with his long fingers. "This hasn't been used in a while."
"What does it open?" Harry asked, and saw his godfather and Remus exchange glances.
"I'm not sure we should tell you," said Remus. "You three seem to get into enough trouble without it."
Harry and Ron both opened their mouths to protest at this, but were cut off by the clock in the kitchen striking loudly. "Is it that time already?" Remus said hastily. "We'd better have a quick snack, and then Ron and Hermione will have to be on their way, I'm afraid. I promised Mrs. Weasley they'd be back by dark."
Harry looked at his two friends regretfully. "Do they have to go?"
"Sorry, Harry. I'd ask them to stay for longer than a day, but there just isn't enough room here," Remus said apologetically.
"That's OK, it was great of you to ask them here for my birthday," Harry said quickly, disappointed but not wanting to seem ungrateful.
"Anyway, my dad's coming to pick me up from The Burrow tomorrow morning," Hermione explained. "I'm staying there tonight and sharing Ginny's room."
"We could meet up in Diagon Alley if we all get our school stuff on the same day," Ron suggested, as they all moved into the kitchen.
"That's a good idea - I can easily arrange that with Mrs. Weasley," Remus said.
After a quick supper, Harry had to say goodbye to his friends as they left by Floo Powder. Ron went first, saying "Bye Harry - see you in Diagon Alley!" as he stepped into the fire.
Hermione hugged Harry again as she turned to leave. "Be careful, Harry," she said, rather seriously. "See you later." Then she, too, had gone on her way to The Burrow.
Gatehouse Cottage seemed very quiet after Ron and Hermione had gone. Harry wandered out into the darkening garden and decided he would do some more crossbow practice tomorrow, in an effort to become as good a shot as Hermione. Hedwig landed on his shoulder and nibbled his ear affectionately for a moment, before she swooped off to do some hunting. A rustling noise in the bushes, accompanied by the faint tinkle of a collar-tag, suggested that Blackie was also thinking of a night's hunting.
"Cheer up, Harry," a voice said behind him, and he turned to see Sirius's dark figure silhouetted in the lighted kitchen doorway. "You'll see them again soon. Sorry Remus and I aren't very lively company - "
"No, it's great here - I mean, I like being with you both," Harry said earnestly. "Really. And I'll like hearing you tell me stories about my mum and dad." He and Sirius seated themselves on the step and watched the white form of Hedwig swooping to and fro across the garden.
"Sirius," Harry began carefully, after a minute's silence, "what happened to Alex Davies - my mum's friend? Is she dead too? Only Remus didn't seem to want to talk about her - "
"No, he wouldn't," Sirius said. "She's not dead - it's not much of a story really, but I'll tell you anyway."
"Don't tell me if you don't want to -" Harry began hastily.
"No, it's all right. Probably better that you know. She was a nice girl - a friend of all of ours, at Hogwarts. She had a bit of a soft spot for old Moony though, especially as we got older, and he was quite keen on her. Around the time your parents got married, a lot of people thought Remus and Alex would get married too, but he broke it off, and she was so hurt and angry that she never really had much to do with any of us again - I think she still kept in touch with Lily, but then after your parents died..." Sirius paused for a moment. "I've no idea where she is now. Married with kids, I should think - her children might be at Hogwarts with you."
"Why did Remus break it off?" Harry asked, rather embarrassed but still curious to know. "Was it - because of the werewolf thing?"
"Yes, of course it was. She didn't know - he'd never got up the courage to tell her because he thought she'd run away screaming - and he didn't think he could expect any girl to want to marry a werewolf and have his children. He was probably right - but - "
"It's horrible for him," Harry said sadly. "Thanks for telling me. At least now I can try not to put my foot in it by talking about her."
"Anyway, that was a long time ago," Sirius said, in a lighter tone. "Let's change the subject. Remus says you can keep the photos of your parents. You can keep James's broom, too."
"Can I?" Harry was delighted. "That'd be great. I haven't really got anything that belonged to him, except my Invisibility Cloak."
There was a rustle, a thud and a mew as Blackie suddenly appeared from a bush and leapt on to Harry's knee. She settled herself down there, kneading his lap with her claws until he winced. "Tell me a story about my dad, then," Harry said.
"Well," began Sirius, "there was the time that we decided to liven up our Herbology class. The Herbology professor at the time had been trying to grow Bog Barnacles, and James thought it would be interesting if..."
Harry listened, Blackie purred, and night fell over the garden at Gatehouse Cottage.
End of Part 6
Author's Notes: There, no cliffhanger this time. This story is flowing very slowly but I promise I'll finish it eventually, as I hate abandoning things unfinished. What does the key unlock? Will Alex Davies reappear? Will Harry go to Diagon Alley? You all know that R and H will be back...I'll try and get Part 7 up by next weekend. Promise!
Here's another plug for the people at www.sugarquill.com - go there if you want to visit The Good Ship R/H!
Also re. Part 5: Lightning Dancer wins the prize for spotting the mistake - Hermione couldn't have transfigured the apples in Part 5 because she's not allowed to use magic in the holidays! Actually I realized that after I'd already uploaded Part 5...never mind!
See end for more author's notes.
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No Easy Goodbyes - Part 6
The lid of the chest was so heavy that Harry struggled to lift it, and Ron had to lend a hand before they managed to raise it completely and lean it again the wall behind. A cloud of dust flew upwards in its wake, making them all cough again.
Hermione covered her nose. "Urgh, something smells a bit musty in there," she said, leaning away from the chest. "More old robes, maybe."
Harry and Ron did not pay much attention to her complaint. They were too busy peering eagerly into the chest, trying to see what was in there.
"More old Daily Prophets," said Ron disappointedly, lifting the yellowing sheets which covered the chest's contents. They began to crumble away in his grasp, and he dropped them hurriedly in a pile on the floor, wiping his hands. "Yuck."
"It's not full," said Harry, looking into the depths of the chest. "Some more books, I think - what's this?" He pulled out a long woollen strip and showed it to Ron and Hermione. The colours were dimmed by dirt, but it was possible to see what it had once been - a red and gold scarf.
"Gryffindor colours," said Hermione, turning it over in her hands.
"Maybe Professor Lupin used to wave it at Quidditch matches," Ron suggested. This comment reminded all three of them that Harry's father had probably played in those matches. Harry noticed that his two friends exchanged looks and waited to allow him to lift the next item from the chest, realising that this was quite likely to become personal for him.
A few more old school textbooks of Lupin's did not interest them very much, but the last two books did. One was called "The Home Mediwizard - potions and remedies for all ailments." As Harry leafed through, he noticed the page folded over to mark a recipe for a healing balm to cure scratches and cuts. He passed the book to Hermione without comment, thinking of the matter-of-fact way in which Lupin had once described the pain of his transformations to them.
Underneath "The Home Mediwizard" was a magical cookery book, full of recipes.
"I think my mum's got that one," Ron murmured, as Harry opened the book to see a message written in faded ink on the flyleaf in a pretty, rounded script.
"Remus - I'm sending you this in the hope you'll learn to feed yourself a bit better - you're still too thin! No point giving this to James, we both know Hogwarts will fall into the lake before he learns to cook! A very Happy Birthday to you, with love from Lily."
Harry ran his finger over the faded words without speaking. He had never seen his mother's handwriting before. Hermione and Ron looked at him sympathetically, but did not say anything as he laid the book gently beside him on the floor and turned back to the chest.
There was not much else in the chest - a large, dusty leather wallet, a long bundle of fabric which looked like more old robes, and a small wooden box. Harry picked up the leather wallet first, wiping it on his sleeve. When he opened it, he found that it contained an untidy bundle of photographs and a couple of letters. He picked up the letters first. Two were boring business letters from Gringotts, confirming various withdrawals and deposits, but one was a note scrawled in the energetic writing he already knew belonged to Sirius.
"Moony,
I suppose you and Prongs are laughing yourselves sick about your little exploit last night. Very clever. Ha ha. From now on I'm going to keep my bike AND my leathers AND my boots far away from both of you. The lovely Demetra was NOT impressed, and I'm sure I'll never get another date with her, but I suppose that was your plan, you pair of toads. You will PAY for this, you just wait!
Your ex-friend, Sirius."
Harry grinned at this, and showed the note to Ron and Hermione.
"Wonder what my dad and Remus did to Sirius?" he said. "I'm going to ask him later."
"Yeah, I'd like to know too," Ron said. "He sounds pretty mad, whatever it was."
Harry turned his attention to the bundle of photographs. He already had an album containing some photographs of his parents, but he was hoping there might be some more of them here. The first picture, however, was a snapshot of Sirius in a sunny garden, leaning against a powerful motorbike. Young, his face unlined and happy, he looked very much as he had in Harry's parents' wedding pictures.
"Wow, look at that bike," Ron said enviously, as Harry gave him the picture. "I'd love to have one like that some day."
"I'm sure it's not strictly allowed, enchanting Muggle motorbikes - it must come under the same laws as flying cars," Hermione murmured, but she said no more, seeing the expressions on the boys' faces.
They were all interested in the next photograph. It was a Quidditch team photo - seven teenagers in Gryffindor team robes, five boys and two girls, posing happily with their arms round each other's shoulders and broomsticks lying on the ground in front of them. Harry recognised his father standing in the middle of the photograph, holding a large silver cup which was unmistakeably the Hogwarts House Quidditch Cup. His face was alight with triumph and his black hair was all on end.
"I didn't know Sirius ever played for Gryffindor as well," Ron said over Harry's shoulder, pointing to the tall dark boy at the left of the picture.
"I suppose I've never asked him about it," Harry said, looking at the rest of the team but not recognising any of them. He knew just how they were feeling though - he remembered his own feeling of triumph when Gryffindor had won the Cup in his third year and Oliver Wood had passed him that self-same cup. He turned the picture over, but there was nothing on the back, not even a date.
All the remaining three photographs did have writing on the back of them, however. The first was a snapshot of Lily, looking about sixteen or seventeen, and another girl with curly dark hair. Lily was holding a black cat in her arms and the other girl was holding a white cat. On the back was written, in a rather loopy ornate hand, "James says this photo is proof pos. that we're just girlies who like fluffy animals - I told him to watch out because we girlies know a few nasty curses too! See you next term. Love, A." Harry wondered who "A" was, as he turned the picture over again to have another look at his mother's face.
The next picture was a group shot, of five people sitting round a table on which drinks and ice-creams were placed. "Looks like Florean Fortescue's - or somewhere very like it," Harry said aloud, looking along the row of faces. James and Lily next to each other, then the dark-haired girl - A - in the middle, with Remus next to her and Sirius beyond him, his long legs stretched out. Sirius was lifting his glass to the photographer, and the others were waving. On the back, in small, rather niggly writing was scribbled, "Thought you might like a copy of this - it came out quite well. See you soon. Peter."
"Pettigrew," Harry murmured, sudden disgust making him unwilling to touch the writing or the photograph. The old familiar anger against the man who had betrayed his parents - betrayed all the friends in that smiling group - was rising up in his throat.
Hermione looked at the photograph. "I suppose he must have taken the picture. That must have been a long time before - you know..." She trailed off. "What's the last one, Harry?" she asked, clearly trying to distract his attention.
Unfortunately, the last photograph did not make Harry feel any better. It clearly dated from a time after his parents and their friends had left Hogwarts, as the two young men in the picture were at least twenty-one. Against a background of tropical palm trees and sandy beach, Sirius, wearing a brightly-coloured shirt and shorts, was holding a cocktail glass. So was his friend, a much shorter, plumper young man, dressed in similar clothes. They both looked as though they were having the time of their lives.
"Is that - " Ron frowned, looking at the picture uncertainly.
"Wormtail again," Harry confirmed heavily. Although the Peter Pettigrew he had met was much older, not to mention balding, this was obviously a younger version of the same man. It made him feel sick to think that Sirius had been so unaware of what was to come, at the time. He turned the picture over to read the last inscription - Sirius's writing this time.
"Moony, you may well be jealous. This place is Paradise, you should have come. Peter and I are having to beat off the gorgeous women with a stick. We'll give you and James the uncensored version when we get back. Cheers, Sirius."
Harry couldn't help smiling at these comments, even though the sight of Pettigrew still made him feel ill.
Hermione stacked the photographs and letters into a neat pile. "Is there anything else in the chest, Harry?" she asked quickly.
"Yeah - a sort of bundle, and a box." Harry reached into the chest, and pulled out the little wooden box. When he shook it, he could hear something heavy rattling inside, but he couldn't open it. "Must be spelled shut."
"We'd better ask Sirius or Professor Lupin to open it," Hermione said, obviously regretting that she wasn't allowed to do magic in the holidays. A simple opening charm would have been easy for her.
Harry gave her the box, and pulled out the long bundle of fabric from the bottom of the chest. "This is heavy."
"These robes stink," Ron complained, as they laid the bundle on the floor and set about unwrapping it. As they untied knots, Harry began to suspect what the object was, and as the fabric fell away he knew his suspicions were correct. It was a broomstick. The long, slim handle was dimmed by age and lack of polishing, and some of the twigs in the tail were worn and broken, but there was still something special about it. Ron and Harry both examined the handle eagerly for a name.
"Silver Arrow II," Harry read. "I've heard of those - didn't Madam Hooch tell us about them once?"
"Yeah, they used to make them even before Cleansweeps and Shooting Stars," Ron answered, stroking the broom's handle reverently. "This is practically an antique. Sylvester Toadflax used to ride one of these when he was Seeker for the 1966 England team that won the World Cup, Harry!"
"I don't know about antique, it just looks old to me," Hermione said, looking over their shoulders. "Do you think it belonged to Professor Lupin?"
"Let's go and ask him," suggested Harry.
"We can ask him about this box, too," Hermione said, rattling the box again as she got off the floor and headed towards the ladder. Ron carried the broomstick, and Harry the bundle of photographs, as they climbed down carefully from the attic and went to look for Remus. They found him in the sitting room, sitting writing at the desk. He smiled as he looked up and saw them.
"Well, I don't know if the attic is any cleaner, but you three certainly aren't. Ron's mother is going to have a fit when she sees the state of him."
"We - er - sorted out the things in the attic," Harry told him, perching on the arm of the sofa, while Ron and Hermione sat in the armchairs.
"We found this Silver Arrow - is it yours?" Ron asked, holding the broomstick towards Remus.
Remus took the broomstick from him and ran his hands over it. He sighed. "I haven't seen this for a while - I'd forgotten it was still up there. Yes, it's mine now, but it used to belong to your father, Harry."
"My father?" Harry looked at the broom with new interest.
"Yes. James used it for most of his time at school. It won many a match with him, I can tell you. Then, in our sixth year, he got himself a Silver Arrow III and he gave this one to me - I had a very old Speedy Six, which we used to joke could be overtaken by a snail." Remus gazed affectionately at the broom, before handing it back to Ron.
"Good lord, isn't that Prongs's old Silver Arrow? I haven't seen that for years." Sirius had come into the room.
"It's been lurking in the attic for years," said Remus. "They found it when they were clearing out."
"What else did you come across?" Sirius asked with interest, leaning on the back of the sofa.
"Um - a lot of old books, and newspapers and stuff," said Hermione.
"And these photos and letters," said Harry, holding them out to Remus, who picked up the Quidditch photograph first.
"See this, Sirius? I remember that day - that was the day the Gryffindor common room caught fire during the celebration party."
"I didn't know you were on the Gryffindor team with my dad," Harry said to Sirius.
"Only for one year," said Sirius, as the photograph was handed on to him. "I was a Beater."
"With a tendency to get carried away," said Remus. "You were supposed to hit the Bludgers with that bat, not the opposition!"
Harry, Ron and Hermione all laughed at this, but Remus had turned to the picture of Sirius and Peter Pettigrew on their beach holiday, and his smile had faded already. He passed it wordlessly to Sirius, whose face darkened as he saw it.
Seeing this, Harry tried to divert their thoughts from the friend who had betrayed them. He pointed to the picture of the two girls and their cats. "Who's that girl with my mum? She's in another of the pictures too."
"Hmm? Oh, yes." Remus's expression was curiously blank as he looked at the picture of the two girls. "A friend of your mother's - Alexandra Davies."
"Better known as Alex," said Sirius. "She was a Ravenclaw - good Quidditch Chaser, too."
"We know a boy called Roger Davies," said Hermione. "He was the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain last year. Is he any relation of hers?"
"Er - her nephew, I believe," said Remus, laying the photograph aside. He clearly did not want to discuss Alex Davies any further, and something about his manner stopped Harry and the others from asking more questions. He picked up the motorbike picture and the indignant letter from Sirius instead, and began to laugh. "Oh - Sirius - you must look at this."
Sirius read the letter, looked at his friend and burst into laughter too. "Gods, I'd forgotten about that!"
"What did they do to you?" asked Harry. "Did they do something to your bike?"
"You could say that," said Remus, still chuckling. "Sirius was so proud of that thing - he polished it every day, and he used to go round in these mean black leathers and big black biker boots."
"It came in handy for impressing women," Sirius admitted. "Until your father and Moony here - well - "
"We happened to know that Sirius had a date with a rather beautiful, but rather disdainful girl called Demetra - "
"There was nothing wrong with her," protested Sirius.
"Lily said she looked as though she had a bad smell under her nose - " continued Remus.
"Sounds like Malfoy's mum," Ron muttered to Harry.
" - So James and I decided to play a little trick on Sirius. We timed our intervention rather well - "
"With the result that, just as I was using my best chat-up lines on Demetra, my bike turned bright pink, my leathers started to smell of very old cheese, and - "
"And his biker boots turned into fluffy bunny slippers," gasped Remus, who was almost laughing too much at the memory to speak clearly. Harry, Ron and Hermione were giggling too. "James and I saw it all from a safe distance..."
"It took me quite a while to see the funny side of it," Sirius admitted.
"She wasn't your type, Padfoot, trust me."
"Did you ever get your own back on them?" Harry grinned.
"Yes I did - but I'm not sure that story's suitable for someone of your tender age," Sirius said.
"Oh dear, I haven't laughed that much in ages," Remus said, wiping his eyes and shuffling the photos into a pile. "I'm glad you found these, Harry - we should remember the fun we had then, even though terrible things happened later."
"There must be lots of other funny stories about my mum and dad I don't know," Harry said, rather wistfully.
"We'll try to think of a few to tell you while you're here," Sirius promised. "Anyone ready for a snack?"
Harry and Ron were, but Hermione had remembered the box she still held. "We found this too, but it's spelled shut. Do you know what's in it?"
Sirius took the box from her. "Something else I haven't seen in years," he said thoughtfully. "I wondered where this had got to."
Lupin's wand was lying on the desk. He got up and passed the wand over the box in Sirius's hands. "Alohomora!"
There was a soft click, and Sirius lifted the wooden lid. The only thing in the box was a large silver key, rather tarnished. Sirius stroked it with his long fingers. "This hasn't been used in a while."
"What does it open?" Harry asked, and saw his godfather and Remus exchange glances.
"I'm not sure we should tell you," said Remus. "You three seem to get into enough trouble without it."
Harry and Ron both opened their mouths to protest at this, but were cut off by the clock in the kitchen striking loudly. "Is it that time already?" Remus said hastily. "We'd better have a quick snack, and then Ron and Hermione will have to be on their way, I'm afraid. I promised Mrs. Weasley they'd be back by dark."
Harry looked at his two friends regretfully. "Do they have to go?"
"Sorry, Harry. I'd ask them to stay for longer than a day, but there just isn't enough room here," Remus said apologetically.
"That's OK, it was great of you to ask them here for my birthday," Harry said quickly, disappointed but not wanting to seem ungrateful.
"Anyway, my dad's coming to pick me up from The Burrow tomorrow morning," Hermione explained. "I'm staying there tonight and sharing Ginny's room."
"We could meet up in Diagon Alley if we all get our school stuff on the same day," Ron suggested, as they all moved into the kitchen.
"That's a good idea - I can easily arrange that with Mrs. Weasley," Remus said.
After a quick supper, Harry had to say goodbye to his friends as they left by Floo Powder. Ron went first, saying "Bye Harry - see you in Diagon Alley!" as he stepped into the fire.
Hermione hugged Harry again as she turned to leave. "Be careful, Harry," she said, rather seriously. "See you later." Then she, too, had gone on her way to The Burrow.
Gatehouse Cottage seemed very quiet after Ron and Hermione had gone. Harry wandered out into the darkening garden and decided he would do some more crossbow practice tomorrow, in an effort to become as good a shot as Hermione. Hedwig landed on his shoulder and nibbled his ear affectionately for a moment, before she swooped off to do some hunting. A rustling noise in the bushes, accompanied by the faint tinkle of a collar-tag, suggested that Blackie was also thinking of a night's hunting.
"Cheer up, Harry," a voice said behind him, and he turned to see Sirius's dark figure silhouetted in the lighted kitchen doorway. "You'll see them again soon. Sorry Remus and I aren't very lively company - "
"No, it's great here - I mean, I like being with you both," Harry said earnestly. "Really. And I'll like hearing you tell me stories about my mum and dad." He and Sirius seated themselves on the step and watched the white form of Hedwig swooping to and fro across the garden.
"Sirius," Harry began carefully, after a minute's silence, "what happened to Alex Davies - my mum's friend? Is she dead too? Only Remus didn't seem to want to talk about her - "
"No, he wouldn't," Sirius said. "She's not dead - it's not much of a story really, but I'll tell you anyway."
"Don't tell me if you don't want to -" Harry began hastily.
"No, it's all right. Probably better that you know. She was a nice girl - a friend of all of ours, at Hogwarts. She had a bit of a soft spot for old Moony though, especially as we got older, and he was quite keen on her. Around the time your parents got married, a lot of people thought Remus and Alex would get married too, but he broke it off, and she was so hurt and angry that she never really had much to do with any of us again - I think she still kept in touch with Lily, but then after your parents died..." Sirius paused for a moment. "I've no idea where she is now. Married with kids, I should think - her children might be at Hogwarts with you."
"Why did Remus break it off?" Harry asked, rather embarrassed but still curious to know. "Was it - because of the werewolf thing?"
"Yes, of course it was. She didn't know - he'd never got up the courage to tell her because he thought she'd run away screaming - and he didn't think he could expect any girl to want to marry a werewolf and have his children. He was probably right - but - "
"It's horrible for him," Harry said sadly. "Thanks for telling me. At least now I can try not to put my foot in it by talking about her."
"Anyway, that was a long time ago," Sirius said, in a lighter tone. "Let's change the subject. Remus says you can keep the photos of your parents. You can keep James's broom, too."
"Can I?" Harry was delighted. "That'd be great. I haven't really got anything that belonged to him, except my Invisibility Cloak."
There was a rustle, a thud and a mew as Blackie suddenly appeared from a bush and leapt on to Harry's knee. She settled herself down there, kneading his lap with her claws until he winced. "Tell me a story about my dad, then," Harry said.
"Well," began Sirius, "there was the time that we decided to liven up our Herbology class. The Herbology professor at the time had been trying to grow Bog Barnacles, and James thought it would be interesting if..."
Harry listened, Blackie purred, and night fell over the garden at Gatehouse Cottage.
End of Part 6
Author's Notes: There, no cliffhanger this time. This story is flowing very slowly but I promise I'll finish it eventually, as I hate abandoning things unfinished. What does the key unlock? Will Alex Davies reappear? Will Harry go to Diagon Alley? You all know that R and H will be back...I'll try and get Part 7 up by next weekend. Promise!
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