Shadowed Souls

Chapter 4

Disclaimers in the first chapter … yadda … yadda.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. *Hands out chocolate snowmen*

Sorry this took so long, I've finally finished my essay, and I had to write this from scratch. I'll write a couple of chapters over this weekend as penance. This doesn't really have any R/S but it's setting something up, and the romantic angst will return soon, and it will be a tsunami. I've put in some nice self-doubt to make up for that.

MorganD: I put in some rather sweet Sirius-worrying-about-Harry bits for you. They're really short but I hope you enjoy them.

Now … Vive le fic! *grins in embarrassment at the appalling French but it's been a long week*

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So deep was Sirius' reverie that he did not notice the approaching footsteps, dulled as they were by the thick, dreary green carpet.

"Good afternoon, Sirius."

The book he was holding dropped from Sirius' fingers, and hit the floor with a loud thud which sent cats scattering in all directions. He jerked his head up in alarm, Azkaban being bad preparation for such surprises, then, seeing his visitor, he sprang to his feet.

"Good afternoon, Sir," the Animagus said, looking confused, then an expression of mind-numbing panic spread across his face. "Why are you here? Is it Harry? It's Harry. I'm going to wring the neck of the bastard who did this … I'm going to cut off his…"

Blue eyes twinkling, Dumbledore held up one pacifying hand, instantly breaking off Sirius' infuriated tirade.

"Dear child, I beg you to be quiet. Harry is perfectly fine, and currently enjoying the hospitality of the Weasleys, for the few remaining days of the holidays." Dumbledore smiled gently at the expression of pure relief which flooded Sirius' face. "Now, I am sure that Arabella would appreciate it if you sat down and stopped terrifying her cats."

The younger man collapsed backwards into the ancient chair which squatted on the carpet like some kind of malformed demon. Immediately, a tabby sprang onto Sirius' lap, and, in barely seconds, fell into a deep and noisy sleep. Dumbledore took the seat across from him and waited, watching with amusement the interplay of expressions on Sirius' pale face.

When Sirius finally gave up trying to dislodge the sleeping creature, and sat back, exhaling in exasperation, Dumbledore interlocked his fingers, and, gazing over them at the other, he asked, "Are you enjoying it here?"

"You mean, actually sleeping in a bed? Well, it's a nice change. And Arabella seems determined to feed me every two hours, so I don't have to scavenge." Sirius grinned up through his uneven black fringe, looking more like the young man he had once been than ever. "But, Sir, did you only come here to frighten me out of my wits, then check that Arabella isn't making me sleep in the garden shed?"

Dumbledore laughed, thinking how little, and yet how much, the last fourteen years had changed the intense-eyed man who now sat before him from the impetuous Marauder of long-buried memories. However, his face quickly sobered, and he looked at Sirius with a grave look.

"Alas, I am not. I must ask you not to grow too fond of the quiet life, for I fear that I must soon tear you from it. The school needs more protection than that which it currently enjoys. In fact, it needs as much as possible. I must ask you for your help in this.

Sirius remained silent, his heart galloping in fear, although he could not have said what in Dumbledore's proposal he dreaded so much. Tapping one foot nervously, he waited for the silver-haired figure to elaborate.

"I urge you to become a protector, using the skills from your Auror training, from your Animagus transformation, and the harsh lessons which you learnt in Azkaban, to patrol the boundaries, particularly the Forbidden Forest. I am assured you have plenty of experience dealing with the less friendly inhabitants," the headmaster said with a chuckle.

"Sir, with all due respect, I don't see how I could do this. I can hardly walk around Hogwarts as Sirius Black, convicted criminal and Death Eater," he replied grimly, his face darkening, "and what use can I be in my Animagus form? I can tear out the throat of a Deatheater, and much as I enjoy that thought, it'll be of limited use against an army, and of less use than one fully capable wizard against any enemy."

Dumbledore sighed, and sat back in the chair, carefully framing an answer which would explain his complex thoughts.

"I am employing others to care for the strengthening of the wards and such things. What I require from you, if you accept this, is your talent in spotting danger, in detecting subtle changes which perhaps only an Animagus could. I also need you to protect Harry. This year will be particularly difficult for him, and he needs someone who will keep him safe above all things, on whom he can rely with his whole heart."

At this, Sirius leaned forward urgently.

"What? What's wrong with Harry? Tell me. Please."

Dumbledore suddenly looked frail and extremely tired.

"There is not much I can tell you, and much is hidden from me. What I can say is what you already know: Voldemort seeks a way to break our wards in him, and will do anything to achieve that end, employ any force imaginable. What I also fear is the burden which this places on the child; where that may lead is hidden in shadow, even from my eyes," Dumbledore responded, his last words barely audible.

Sirius' eyes grew deep and foreboding, and, when he eventually spoke, his voice carried a tremor of some dark emotion.

"Professor Dumbledore, are you sure about this? I'll do anything you believe will help Harry, but I don't think I'm the best person to do that." His voice dropped a tone, and his face twisted in bitterness. "I have not dealt with responsibility well before."

A vision of Lily and James crumpled up into pitiful heaps of flesh and cloth swept through his mind.

Dumbledore leaned forward, and placed a comforting hand on Sirius' arm, his eyes blazing with blue fire.

"Sirius, I know what I need to about your competence. As to your doubts, sometimes the wisest among us cannot see what is before his eyes. You will be the best protector for Harry. Only you can he trust enough for that task."

With an uncertain smile, Sirus looked up at the old wizard. Although doubts still danced and whirled through his mind, he nodded mutely, unwilling as ever to face the threat of disapproval in those benevolent blue eyes.

Dumbledore beamed in response, and remarked, "Well, I believe I shall see …ah, Padfoot in my office next week. The password is honeycomb."

With those words, the conversation seemed to be sealed, with all its unspoken hopes and unspeakable fears.

Together, Dumbledore and Sirius paced the hall to Arabella's front door. They stood silently in the dusty, autumnal sunlight streaming though the glass panels, each locked in his own gloomy thoughts. With a sigh, Dumbledore turned to the younger man, and, in a voice drained of all humour, said, "There are so few of us who both can, and will, help Harry in the fight we must surely face. He has enough faith in you that may be the one who can, when all else fails."

Then, soundlessly, he was gone, leaving behind only twinkling dust in the tired light, and Sirius, isolated with bleak memories of the past, and dismal imaginings of the future.

TBC

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Short, I know, but I wrote it on the train with an Elrond plot bunny sitting on my shoulder.

Flames will be used to destroy this evil computer which ate some of my fic. *grr* Positive reviews are like oxygen.