Chapter Fifteen: Secrets Revealed
"Dammit, why won't Dumbledore call a meeting?" Sirius raged, pounding the kitchen table, as was his wont when he displayed his temper.
"It's too risky," said Lupin resignedly. He and Sirius were alone in the kitchen; Tonks had returned to the Ministry to work an extra shift, taking the place of one of the Aurors who'd been injured by Hagrid.
It was early in the afternoon the next day. Neither Lupin nor Sirius had slept a wink the night previous.
"Everything's too risky at this point!" Sirius protested.
"Sirius, the whole Ministry is looking for him," said Lupin. "And you. If they trace Dumbledore here they'll find you as well. Snape is stuck--he can't tell us anything at the moment without risking getting the sack himself. However much we dislike him he's the last protection Harry has. Tonks and Kingsley and Alastor can barely discuss the weather at work without having their conversations monitored."
"So we're stuck, then," said Sirius grumpily, sitting down heavily. "In another bloody holding pattern."
"It looks that way," said Lupin.
Sirius grunted and sat back in his chair, running a hand through his hair, when a crash came from upstairs.
"What the--"
Sirius's words were cut off by a loud, screeching squawk. Sirius leapt from his chair. The noise upstairs woke Mrs. Black's portrait, who began to howl.
"What was that?" Lupin asked, alarmed.
"Buckbeak," said Sirius. "Come on."
They hurried up the stairs, pausing only long enough to yank the drapes shut, cutting Mrs. Black off mid-shriek.
The squawking from upstairs became louder, but it wasn't a sound of anger or distress. It sounded like...pain.
"Sirius..."
But Sirius was racing up to the third floor, single-minded in his quest to reach Buckbeak. He leapt into the room where the hippogriff was kept; Lupin came right behind and nearly crashed into him.
"Dear god," Sirius muttered.
Lupin gasped. The hippogriff was lying pitifully on its side, cradling a wing. The wing had a horrid gash in it and was bent at an unnatural angle.
"How in god's name did this happen?" Sirius wondered. He took a step toward the hippogriff; Buckbeak squawked and snarled, shifted his wing, and screeched in pain again.
"It's all right, Beaky," Sirius said in a soothing voice. "It's all right."
"I'll get some bandages," Lupin offered.
"There's some in my bathroom, down the hall," said Sirius, still walking slowly toward the injured hippogriff, speaking in soothing tones. "Along with some Pain Draught and rubbing alcohol."
Lupin nodded and hurried from the room, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Not simply due to the hippogriff's injury, which was bad enough. No, it was something else. Something that nagged at the back of his brain like the buzzing of a fly in his ear.
How had Buckbeak injured himself? Or more to the point, why? The hippogriff hardly liked being tied up all the time, but in Sirius's patient care the animal had become nearly docile. Furthermore, there was nothing in the room with which Buckbeak might injure himself. The gash on the hippogriff's wing did not look like the makings of a clumsy accident or a fall on the hippogriff's part.
Lupin reached the bathroom and pulled out several clean rags, bandages, a flask of some rather gooey looking potion and a brown bottle of rubbing alcohol.
If Buckbeak hadn't injured himself, then someone or something had. But who would do it? Surely not Sirius.
Lupin pushed this unpleasant thought aside, but then considered. Sirius's moods these past many months had been wildly unpredictable. He had taken to spending lots of time in the company of the hippogriff. Was it not possible- -however unlikely--that Sirius himself, in a fit of anger or pique, perhaps furious that he could not get out of doors--had harmed Buckbeak?
But this thought fled as quickly as it had come. The hippogriff had cried out only moments ago; Sirius could hardly inflict any sort of harmfull spell or jinx on the animal when he was three floors below. The only logical explanation was that the hippogriff had somehow stumbled and broken his wing.
Lupin tried to accept this as the logical conclusion, but that nagging feeling continued to bother him as he entered Buckbeak's room.
"What is it?" Lupin asked, handing over the bandages, potion and alcohol to Sirius.
"Broken wing," said Sirius. "But that gash there, I don't see how he could have gotten that."
"Let's treat him first, then sort it out," Lupin suggested.
"Better let me do the bulk of it, mate," said Sirius, stroking Buckbeak's head gently. "He's a bit skittish round strangers."
"Of course," said Lupin, taking a step back. He was familiar enough with hippogriffs and how to approach them, but he had no experience with an injured one and in any case, he had no desire to put himself in close proximity with the hippogriff's razor sharp claws.
Instead he acted as Sirius's assistant, passing him bandages and potion and rubbing alcohol as Sirius gently cleaned the gash on Buckbeak's wing. Sirius applied the Pain Draught directly to the wound, and it helped; Buckbeak's earsplitting shrieks of pain became brief, muted whimpers.
In short order Sirius had done what he could for the hippogriff's injured wing. The cut began to heal under the heavy coating of Pain Draught and rubbing alcohol. Sirius immobilized the break with a swish of his wand and the hippogriff quickly became quiet and drowsy.
"He'll be all right," said Sirius, backing out of the room as Buckbeak dropped off to sleep.
Very quietly Sirius shut the door to Buckbeak's room and he and Lupin started down the corridor toward the stairs, when Sirius grunted and collided with something. He and Lupin looked down.
"You!" Sirius snapped. It was Kreacher, the house elf. He was ancient, filthy and wearing a rag done up in a loin-cloth. The rag looked as though it hadn't been laundered in a decade.
"What are you doing here?" Sirius snapped. "Skulking round like a rat..."
"Master is good and kind," the house elf said, bowing, then muttered "Master associates with a monster, what will my Mistress say?"
"Out, you!" Sirius barked, shoving the elf hard with his foot. The house elf's response was to bow again, and continue his muttering.
"Master is fooled, Master did not get to visit with him." Kreacher started up the corridor, in the direction of the attic.
"Wait," said Lupin. "What did you say Kreacher?"
"The monster is talking to Kreacher," Kreacher muttered. "What will Mistress say?"
"What are you talking about, Kreacher?" Sirius snapped. "I just visited Buckbeak right this moment."
"Master does not know I have a secret," said Kreacher, not even trying to mutter now. "Master did not see what I saw in the fireplace. In the fire."
"In the fire?" Lupin asked. "What's he on about?"
"He's a nutter, that's what," said Sirius.
"Master's boy has come looking for Master," Kreacher went on. "In the fire."
Something about those words made Sirius and Lupin both halt halfway down the stairs.
"Sirius..." Lupin began.
"A boy, in the fire--"
"Harry!"
They hurtled down the stairs, not bothering to be quiet, not stopping to shut the heavy velvet drapes that sprang open and brought a fresh round of screams from Mrs. Black's portrait. They burst into the kitchen.
"Harry!" Sirius bellowed, dashing toward the fireplace. "Harry!"
"He's not here," said Lupin, his eyes darting round the room.
"What did that little rat tell him?" Sirius hissed.
"It must have been Kreacher who hurt Buckbeak," said Lupin, suddenly realizing what had happened. "My god, Sirius. Kreacher...hurt Buckbeak. On purpose. To draw you away..."
"That's impossible," Sirius scoffed, turning away from the fireplace. "To do that Kreacher would have known Harry meant to contact me. How would he know that?"
"Why did Harry come to the fire tonight?" said Lupin, pacing now in alarm. "Why on earth would he take such a huge risk?"
"Something must have happened at school, something big," said Sirius.
"Something happened, indeed."
Lupin and Sirius whirled around toward the source of the third voice.
It was Severus Snape.
"How the HELL did you get in here?" Sirius demanded.
"I have no time to explain it to you, Black," Snape snapped. "I only came here as a favor to your silly godson. He was under the impression that the Dark Lord had taken you captive. Since you are unfortunately standing right in front of me, it's obvious Potter was mistaken."
"That's not the only thing that happened," Sirius said darkly, advancing on Snape. Snape instinctively took a step back.
"No, I'm afraid not," said Snape, a somewhat satisfied sneer coming across his face. "You see, Black, your godson's penchant for following in his father's footsteps has once again landed him in a spot of trouble. Last I saw him he was in Umbridge's office, accompanied by his friends. She looked fit to be tied. Wanted me to administer Veritaserum to Potter. I would have gladly complied but my supply was at the moment non-existent. Umbridge didn't take too well to my explanation as to just why I could not produce a working Veritaserum for her on the spot, so she summarily dismissed me from her office and suspended me from teaching as well."
"Are you saying," said Sirius, whose fists were clenched, whose face was now white with rage, "that you left Harry and his friends alone in that woman's office? When you know how important Harry--"
"That's what I'm saying, Black," said Snape coolly. "And before you go hexing me you might consider that I am the only member of the Order currently left at the school who can protect Potter. I have already spent far too much time in your unpleasant company as it is. I must get back to the school and ensure that that beastly woman isn't stringing Potter up by his ears. Although I must say that does make a pleasant mental picture."
"You son of a--" Sirius lunged at Snape, but was caught by Lupin.
"Sirius."
Snape had taken a step back and glared at them both.
"A wise decision, Lupin. You always were the smart one."
With that, Snape swept from the kitchen in a swirl of black robes. Sirius stood stock-still, trying to control his breathing, as he and Lupin listened to Snape's footsteps on the stairs.
"Shut up, you stupid hag!" Snape bellowed at the screeching portrait of Mrs. Black; Sirius and Lupin heard the sound of curtains being forcibly drawn, the front door creaking as it opened, the click of the lock as it shut.
"Bastard," Sirius growled. "Bloody evil bastard. One of these days--"
"You'll kill him," Lupin finished. "That's neither here nor there. What the hell is going on with Harry and that Umbridge woman?"
Sirius ran a hand through his hair and groaned angrily. "Harry must have been caught using Umbridge's fireplace. Why the HELL did he do it? He had the damn mirror!"
"He might have forgotten about the mirror," said Lupin. "The question is why he tried to contact you at all. And how Kreacher knew Harry was going to contact you."
"I'm telling you, that's daft," said Sirius. "Kreacher couldn't have known Harry would try to contact me, and even if he did, Kreacher's bound to me. You know how it works with house elves. He might hate me but he wouldn't deliberately defy me. He can't, it's not in his nature. In any house elf's nature. He's stuck here. He can't even leave the house unless I say so."
Lupin gasped and stared at Sirius.
"What?" he asked.
"Sirius, didn't you just hear yourself?" said Lupin. "Kreacher couldn't leave the house unless you said he could."
"Yeah, so--" And a horror-struck expression crossed his face as he recalled what he had said to Kreacher during the Christmas holiday.
"I told Kreacher to get out," he said slowly. "That night, when Harry and the Weasley kids came, the night Arthur was attacked. I told Kreacher to get out."
"Is it possible--"
"He can't possibly have taken that literally," said Sirius, shaking his head.
"Have you ever heard of a house elf who didn't take something literally?" said Lupin.
"He can't have left the house!" Sirius protested, but his widening eyes and loud voice betrayed his fear. "Where would he have gone? I'm the only living Black left!"
"No, you're not," said Lupin.
"The only one not incarcerated then!" Sirius said desperately.
"No!" said Lupin. "Think, Sirius."
Sirius was breathing hard now, completely wound up, a look like a cornered animal in his eyes. He stared at Lupin, and understood.
"Narcissa."
Lupin nodded.
"You think Kreacher...went to Narcissa."
"What other explanation could there be?" said Lupin. "Who else would he have sought out?"
"But he couldn't...he wouldn't have told Narcissa about...about what he knew!" said Sirius, now pacing.
"Why, because it's against his nature?" Lupin challenged. "No, Sirius. Kreacher must have gone to Narcissa. He must have told her what he knew, and he knew plenty. And Narcissa told Lucius."
"So you're saying...this whole thing was planned?" said Sirius. "Somehow Lucius Malfoy or one of Voldemort's other cronies tricked Harry into trying to contact me and convinced Kreacher to distract me by injuring Buckbeak?"
"I know it sounds far-fetched--"
"Far-fetched?" Sirius said angrily. "It sounds like bollocks."
"Sirius, we don't know why Harry tried to contact you!" said Lupin. "Don't you see? Something must have happened at school to inspire Harry to take that risk! Something to do with you. He wouldn't have risked using Umbridge's fire a second time unless it had something to do with you."
Sirius stared at Lupin in horror, knowing that Lupin was right. Harry had never in his life taken so great a risk except when danger to his closest friends was involved. He never would have chanced using Umbridge's fire a second time unless something major had inspired him to do so.
"But what could it possibly be?" Sirius said in a strangled kind of whisper.
"I don't know," said Lupin.
Sirius looked at Lupin for a long moment and then seemed to come to a decision.
"I'm going to the Ministry," said Sirius, pulling his wand from the inside of his robes.
"What?" said Lupin, appalled. "Are you mad?"
"What else am I supposed to do, Remus, sit around this kitchen and wait to hear that Harry's been thrown out of school, or worse?"
"A fine lot of good you'll do Harry if you get yourself arrested!" Lupin snapped.
"Fine," said Sirius. "Then let's call Fawkes and get Dumbledore. FAWKES! FAWKES!"
Any moment now, a flash of red flame would signal the appearance of Dumbledore's phoenix. Any moment now...
"Fawkes!" Lupin called.
But nothing happened.
"What's going on?" Sirius hissed. "What the bloody hell is going on? What happened to Dumbledore?"
"Dammit, why won't Dumbledore call a meeting?" Sirius raged, pounding the kitchen table, as was his wont when he displayed his temper.
"It's too risky," said Lupin resignedly. He and Sirius were alone in the kitchen; Tonks had returned to the Ministry to work an extra shift, taking the place of one of the Aurors who'd been injured by Hagrid.
It was early in the afternoon the next day. Neither Lupin nor Sirius had slept a wink the night previous.
"Everything's too risky at this point!" Sirius protested.
"Sirius, the whole Ministry is looking for him," said Lupin. "And you. If they trace Dumbledore here they'll find you as well. Snape is stuck--he can't tell us anything at the moment without risking getting the sack himself. However much we dislike him he's the last protection Harry has. Tonks and Kingsley and Alastor can barely discuss the weather at work without having their conversations monitored."
"So we're stuck, then," said Sirius grumpily, sitting down heavily. "In another bloody holding pattern."
"It looks that way," said Lupin.
Sirius grunted and sat back in his chair, running a hand through his hair, when a crash came from upstairs.
"What the--"
Sirius's words were cut off by a loud, screeching squawk. Sirius leapt from his chair. The noise upstairs woke Mrs. Black's portrait, who began to howl.
"What was that?" Lupin asked, alarmed.
"Buckbeak," said Sirius. "Come on."
They hurried up the stairs, pausing only long enough to yank the drapes shut, cutting Mrs. Black off mid-shriek.
The squawking from upstairs became louder, but it wasn't a sound of anger or distress. It sounded like...pain.
"Sirius..."
But Sirius was racing up to the third floor, single-minded in his quest to reach Buckbeak. He leapt into the room where the hippogriff was kept; Lupin came right behind and nearly crashed into him.
"Dear god," Sirius muttered.
Lupin gasped. The hippogriff was lying pitifully on its side, cradling a wing. The wing had a horrid gash in it and was bent at an unnatural angle.
"How in god's name did this happen?" Sirius wondered. He took a step toward the hippogriff; Buckbeak squawked and snarled, shifted his wing, and screeched in pain again.
"It's all right, Beaky," Sirius said in a soothing voice. "It's all right."
"I'll get some bandages," Lupin offered.
"There's some in my bathroom, down the hall," said Sirius, still walking slowly toward the injured hippogriff, speaking in soothing tones. "Along with some Pain Draught and rubbing alcohol."
Lupin nodded and hurried from the room, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Not simply due to the hippogriff's injury, which was bad enough. No, it was something else. Something that nagged at the back of his brain like the buzzing of a fly in his ear.
How had Buckbeak injured himself? Or more to the point, why? The hippogriff hardly liked being tied up all the time, but in Sirius's patient care the animal had become nearly docile. Furthermore, there was nothing in the room with which Buckbeak might injure himself. The gash on the hippogriff's wing did not look like the makings of a clumsy accident or a fall on the hippogriff's part.
Lupin reached the bathroom and pulled out several clean rags, bandages, a flask of some rather gooey looking potion and a brown bottle of rubbing alcohol.
If Buckbeak hadn't injured himself, then someone or something had. But who would do it? Surely not Sirius.
Lupin pushed this unpleasant thought aside, but then considered. Sirius's moods these past many months had been wildly unpredictable. He had taken to spending lots of time in the company of the hippogriff. Was it not possible- -however unlikely--that Sirius himself, in a fit of anger or pique, perhaps furious that he could not get out of doors--had harmed Buckbeak?
But this thought fled as quickly as it had come. The hippogriff had cried out only moments ago; Sirius could hardly inflict any sort of harmfull spell or jinx on the animal when he was three floors below. The only logical explanation was that the hippogriff had somehow stumbled and broken his wing.
Lupin tried to accept this as the logical conclusion, but that nagging feeling continued to bother him as he entered Buckbeak's room.
"What is it?" Lupin asked, handing over the bandages, potion and alcohol to Sirius.
"Broken wing," said Sirius. "But that gash there, I don't see how he could have gotten that."
"Let's treat him first, then sort it out," Lupin suggested.
"Better let me do the bulk of it, mate," said Sirius, stroking Buckbeak's head gently. "He's a bit skittish round strangers."
"Of course," said Lupin, taking a step back. He was familiar enough with hippogriffs and how to approach them, but he had no experience with an injured one and in any case, he had no desire to put himself in close proximity with the hippogriff's razor sharp claws.
Instead he acted as Sirius's assistant, passing him bandages and potion and rubbing alcohol as Sirius gently cleaned the gash on Buckbeak's wing. Sirius applied the Pain Draught directly to the wound, and it helped; Buckbeak's earsplitting shrieks of pain became brief, muted whimpers.
In short order Sirius had done what he could for the hippogriff's injured wing. The cut began to heal under the heavy coating of Pain Draught and rubbing alcohol. Sirius immobilized the break with a swish of his wand and the hippogriff quickly became quiet and drowsy.
"He'll be all right," said Sirius, backing out of the room as Buckbeak dropped off to sleep.
Very quietly Sirius shut the door to Buckbeak's room and he and Lupin started down the corridor toward the stairs, when Sirius grunted and collided with something. He and Lupin looked down.
"You!" Sirius snapped. It was Kreacher, the house elf. He was ancient, filthy and wearing a rag done up in a loin-cloth. The rag looked as though it hadn't been laundered in a decade.
"What are you doing here?" Sirius snapped. "Skulking round like a rat..."
"Master is good and kind," the house elf said, bowing, then muttered "Master associates with a monster, what will my Mistress say?"
"Out, you!" Sirius barked, shoving the elf hard with his foot. The house elf's response was to bow again, and continue his muttering.
"Master is fooled, Master did not get to visit with him." Kreacher started up the corridor, in the direction of the attic.
"Wait," said Lupin. "What did you say Kreacher?"
"The monster is talking to Kreacher," Kreacher muttered. "What will Mistress say?"
"What are you talking about, Kreacher?" Sirius snapped. "I just visited Buckbeak right this moment."
"Master does not know I have a secret," said Kreacher, not even trying to mutter now. "Master did not see what I saw in the fireplace. In the fire."
"In the fire?" Lupin asked. "What's he on about?"
"He's a nutter, that's what," said Sirius.
"Master's boy has come looking for Master," Kreacher went on. "In the fire."
Something about those words made Sirius and Lupin both halt halfway down the stairs.
"Sirius..." Lupin began.
"A boy, in the fire--"
"Harry!"
They hurtled down the stairs, not bothering to be quiet, not stopping to shut the heavy velvet drapes that sprang open and brought a fresh round of screams from Mrs. Black's portrait. They burst into the kitchen.
"Harry!" Sirius bellowed, dashing toward the fireplace. "Harry!"
"He's not here," said Lupin, his eyes darting round the room.
"What did that little rat tell him?" Sirius hissed.
"It must have been Kreacher who hurt Buckbeak," said Lupin, suddenly realizing what had happened. "My god, Sirius. Kreacher...hurt Buckbeak. On purpose. To draw you away..."
"That's impossible," Sirius scoffed, turning away from the fireplace. "To do that Kreacher would have known Harry meant to contact me. How would he know that?"
"Why did Harry come to the fire tonight?" said Lupin, pacing now in alarm. "Why on earth would he take such a huge risk?"
"Something must have happened at school, something big," said Sirius.
"Something happened, indeed."
Lupin and Sirius whirled around toward the source of the third voice.
It was Severus Snape.
"How the HELL did you get in here?" Sirius demanded.
"I have no time to explain it to you, Black," Snape snapped. "I only came here as a favor to your silly godson. He was under the impression that the Dark Lord had taken you captive. Since you are unfortunately standing right in front of me, it's obvious Potter was mistaken."
"That's not the only thing that happened," Sirius said darkly, advancing on Snape. Snape instinctively took a step back.
"No, I'm afraid not," said Snape, a somewhat satisfied sneer coming across his face. "You see, Black, your godson's penchant for following in his father's footsteps has once again landed him in a spot of trouble. Last I saw him he was in Umbridge's office, accompanied by his friends. She looked fit to be tied. Wanted me to administer Veritaserum to Potter. I would have gladly complied but my supply was at the moment non-existent. Umbridge didn't take too well to my explanation as to just why I could not produce a working Veritaserum for her on the spot, so she summarily dismissed me from her office and suspended me from teaching as well."
"Are you saying," said Sirius, whose fists were clenched, whose face was now white with rage, "that you left Harry and his friends alone in that woman's office? When you know how important Harry--"
"That's what I'm saying, Black," said Snape coolly. "And before you go hexing me you might consider that I am the only member of the Order currently left at the school who can protect Potter. I have already spent far too much time in your unpleasant company as it is. I must get back to the school and ensure that that beastly woman isn't stringing Potter up by his ears. Although I must say that does make a pleasant mental picture."
"You son of a--" Sirius lunged at Snape, but was caught by Lupin.
"Sirius."
Snape had taken a step back and glared at them both.
"A wise decision, Lupin. You always were the smart one."
With that, Snape swept from the kitchen in a swirl of black robes. Sirius stood stock-still, trying to control his breathing, as he and Lupin listened to Snape's footsteps on the stairs.
"Shut up, you stupid hag!" Snape bellowed at the screeching portrait of Mrs. Black; Sirius and Lupin heard the sound of curtains being forcibly drawn, the front door creaking as it opened, the click of the lock as it shut.
"Bastard," Sirius growled. "Bloody evil bastard. One of these days--"
"You'll kill him," Lupin finished. "That's neither here nor there. What the hell is going on with Harry and that Umbridge woman?"
Sirius ran a hand through his hair and groaned angrily. "Harry must have been caught using Umbridge's fireplace. Why the HELL did he do it? He had the damn mirror!"
"He might have forgotten about the mirror," said Lupin. "The question is why he tried to contact you at all. And how Kreacher knew Harry was going to contact you."
"I'm telling you, that's daft," said Sirius. "Kreacher couldn't have known Harry would try to contact me, and even if he did, Kreacher's bound to me. You know how it works with house elves. He might hate me but he wouldn't deliberately defy me. He can't, it's not in his nature. In any house elf's nature. He's stuck here. He can't even leave the house unless I say so."
Lupin gasped and stared at Sirius.
"What?" he asked.
"Sirius, didn't you just hear yourself?" said Lupin. "Kreacher couldn't leave the house unless you said he could."
"Yeah, so--" And a horror-struck expression crossed his face as he recalled what he had said to Kreacher during the Christmas holiday.
"I told Kreacher to get out," he said slowly. "That night, when Harry and the Weasley kids came, the night Arthur was attacked. I told Kreacher to get out."
"Is it possible--"
"He can't possibly have taken that literally," said Sirius, shaking his head.
"Have you ever heard of a house elf who didn't take something literally?" said Lupin.
"He can't have left the house!" Sirius protested, but his widening eyes and loud voice betrayed his fear. "Where would he have gone? I'm the only living Black left!"
"No, you're not," said Lupin.
"The only one not incarcerated then!" Sirius said desperately.
"No!" said Lupin. "Think, Sirius."
Sirius was breathing hard now, completely wound up, a look like a cornered animal in his eyes. He stared at Lupin, and understood.
"Narcissa."
Lupin nodded.
"You think Kreacher...went to Narcissa."
"What other explanation could there be?" said Lupin. "Who else would he have sought out?"
"But he couldn't...he wouldn't have told Narcissa about...about what he knew!" said Sirius, now pacing.
"Why, because it's against his nature?" Lupin challenged. "No, Sirius. Kreacher must have gone to Narcissa. He must have told her what he knew, and he knew plenty. And Narcissa told Lucius."
"So you're saying...this whole thing was planned?" said Sirius. "Somehow Lucius Malfoy or one of Voldemort's other cronies tricked Harry into trying to contact me and convinced Kreacher to distract me by injuring Buckbeak?"
"I know it sounds far-fetched--"
"Far-fetched?" Sirius said angrily. "It sounds like bollocks."
"Sirius, we don't know why Harry tried to contact you!" said Lupin. "Don't you see? Something must have happened at school to inspire Harry to take that risk! Something to do with you. He wouldn't have risked using Umbridge's fire a second time unless it had something to do with you."
Sirius stared at Lupin in horror, knowing that Lupin was right. Harry had never in his life taken so great a risk except when danger to his closest friends was involved. He never would have chanced using Umbridge's fire a second time unless something major had inspired him to do so.
"But what could it possibly be?" Sirius said in a strangled kind of whisper.
"I don't know," said Lupin.
Sirius looked at Lupin for a long moment and then seemed to come to a decision.
"I'm going to the Ministry," said Sirius, pulling his wand from the inside of his robes.
"What?" said Lupin, appalled. "Are you mad?"
"What else am I supposed to do, Remus, sit around this kitchen and wait to hear that Harry's been thrown out of school, or worse?"
"A fine lot of good you'll do Harry if you get yourself arrested!" Lupin snapped.
"Fine," said Sirius. "Then let's call Fawkes and get Dumbledore. FAWKES! FAWKES!"
Any moment now, a flash of red flame would signal the appearance of Dumbledore's phoenix. Any moment now...
"Fawkes!" Lupin called.
But nothing happened.
"What's going on?" Sirius hissed. "What the bloody hell is going on? What happened to Dumbledore?"