Chapter 3
After having to remain in bed for two days Remus felt the urge to be outside again. Warping the boy and himself in warm clothes he strode out pushing the buggy in front of him. The cold November air was a welcomed contrast to the stuffiness of the heated house, which protected them from an early winter's chill. They reached a small lake and upon a bench beside an old oak tree the werewolf sat and rested. It was not long before a man arrived with his dog on a leash. A great beast it was with shaggy dark hair and a red collar around its neck. It played with its owner near the nearly frozen water for a while until the human was red-faced and out of breath. They departed soon afterwards. But as simple a spectacle as this might be it still triggered a memory in Remus' mind from a time long gone, and as he stared at man and beast his conscience drifted away...
//"If I were you I'd be careful 'bout what I do!" James Potter laughed at his companion, a black shaggy-haired dog. It was growling fiercely at a young, wet man with light-brown, dripping hair. "Well you brought it onto you yourself, Padfoot." The dog snarled louder. He didn't fancy being told it was his own fault that one of his best friends had turned him into an animal constantly or at least until someone cast the counter-curse. What good was being an Animagus when you couldn't switch forms? And besides Sirius Black wanted to be himself again. That's how it had started, anyway, with him being his usual vibrant and perky self. Remus had been wailing over the stifling heat. His friend had thus decided that a refreshment was due and so// the young man felt a bucket full of freezing cold water being brought down on his head. He shook himself in a dog-like fashion and merely glared at the guard. It was no use protesting, he'd gain nothing but a punishment from it. Back in his cell Sirius Black quickly put on his robe not just to remedy the state of his nudity but fore-mostly to feel a little bit warmer. Azkaban felt like the arctic pole in the winter, and that the water with which he was splashed was hardly over 0 °C didn't help either. Yet, though the sheer inhumane treatment of the prisoners was anything but acceptable Sirius looked forward to these weekly washings. These were the only times when the Dementors were far enough away for memories of happier days to come rushing back to him like a deluge, and just like the rain after a long period of arid weather brought release to the dehydrated earth and saved the flowers and trees from dying, these fragments of long lost beatitude brought joy and helped Padfoot to maintain his sanity and his will to live.
'Was it really only last summer?', he wondered, 'It almost seems like a life-time ago.' The werewolf sorrowfully stared at the retreating forms of the dog and its owner as they were passing beneath an old oak-tree. The wind had knocked down all the leaves from the branches but one. This - it was a rather shabby and feeble-looking leaf - little follow was the only one left to fend of the bad weather and to spite all perils. The only one of so many to have got through the darkest times. 'I'm the only one left.' "Moony!" Remus started and looked down at the small boy. Harry had successfully jerked his guardian out of his reverie once again. When his gaze reverted back to the tree the leaf had already fallen. His mouth set into a firm and determined line the werewolf pushed the baby-stroller in front of him and purposefully set out towards home.
Three weeks later saw the two of them seated on a comfy sofa in the abode of a once famous Auror. "- and then the hag said...", Remus quickly covered Harry's ears. Mundungus Fletcher - though really a kind man - was very much like his favourite nephew. Beginning with his rather - well, there was no other word for it - dirty sense of humour and ending with his tendency towards irresponsible behaviour. And sure enough the punch-line of the joke he was currently retelling was on the higher levels of smut. "Yer get it, lad, rhubarb!" And he dissolved into fits of laughter. In fact, he was laughing so hard that his beefy, round face turned a nice shade of red and strands of his shaggy, greyish hair, which had fallen into his face, were soaked by the tears running down both cheeks.
Remus chuckled lightly and released his charge's ears. The danger seemed to be over. "It was definitely a good one.", he answered politely and in order to distract the man before he could try to deprave the Potters' kid again asked "But say, you haven't told me anything about what you've been doing lately, yet?" Fletcher calmed down immediately and his expression got more serious than it had ever been before. "You know", he began hesitantly, "I couldn't have loved James and Lily more if they'd been my own children and I absolutely adore little Harry here.", he ruffled the boy's messy hair and paused for a moment. Mundungus knew that this was a crucial moment. He ran a hand through his own hair nervously and averted his eyes. Scanning the room which was littered with crumpled pieces of parchment his gaze finally came to rest on the mantelpiece. There, in central position, was a photograph of his favourite godson - well, his only godson, to be honest. Mundungus' behaviour didn't particularly entitle him to guardianship in most people's opinion. He regarded the picture a little longer. It had been taken on his former charge's 18th birthday. A young man with jet-black hair leaned against an equally dark motorcycle shooting a charming smile at his godfather and waving vivaciously. He looked for all the world like an overly enthusiastic pup just then.
Mundungus smiled sadly and turned to Remus again who had narrowed his eyes as he became aware of what the man had been staring at. "What I'm gonna say now," he started, "is really important to me, yer know." The werewolf's' brows furrowed. Something bad must have happened for Fletcher to get this unusually sombre. "Anda, before you make any judgement lemme finish first." This did not bode well.
~**~
Blue. It was definitely blue. The walls had a blue tinge. Of course, mostly they were black and grey, covered in grime and dust, but they had a blue tinge. Black, grey, blue. Black clouds, grey sky, blue water. Black clothed fiends, grey prison robes, blue tinged walls. Black matted hair, grey - 'rat!'
"Open the door."
A key turns in the lock.
"What the hell?!"
//"Stupefy!"//
~**~
Doubt was written plainly on Remus face but it quickly turned into anger. "For your sake," he started in a voice barely above a whisper, "I hope that you did not just attempt to convince me that He is innocent!" Mundungus bit his lip. "Would you really want someone, irrespective of who it is, to suffer the worst fate men is able to think of, even though there is the slightest possibility that he doesn't deserve it?" He looked imploringly at the werewolf, appealing to his humane nature. It almost worked. "No," Remus responded calmly, "but there's no possibility that He is innocent. - Excuse me, I have to leave." He arose from the sofa, picked up Harry, and was gone in a glaringly green flame before Mundungus could even bid him good-bye. The picture of Sirius fell onto the floor.
//"You mean it?! You actually mean it?!" He couldn't believe it. A real Honda, a real Honda motorcycle! And it was his! He bit his lip and gingerly touched the chrome handlebars fearing that this was all a dream but it was not. It was solid, didn't fade, and it was his, Sirius'.
"It's a HONDA 1974 CL200 SCRAMBLER. Only been built fer one year." Mundungus' eyes twinkled as he observed his godson's reaction. A motorcycle had always been Sirius' greatest wish, yet his parents had never allowed him one.
"She's beautiful.", he breathed. "Thanks. Thank you so much."//
It had been winter term of is seventh and final year when the news of his parents' death had arrived. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, had given Sirius permission to leave a few days prior the beginning of Christmas holidays. It had been the saddest Christmas either of them had ever had. Mundungus had watched helplessly as his godson became more and more depressive each passing day. The once cheerful and outgoing boy spent his time sleeping or staring out of the window into nothingness. He would not speak.
When finally he had sought contact again, at dinner on the 27th, his hoarse voice had almost stopped Mundungus heart but it would be the words that would always echo in his mind. "I will kill them!" Sirius face had been a frown and he had spoken with the conviction of someone who swore a sacred oath. "God help me, I murder every single one of them Death-Eater scum!" Enraged he had banged his fork on the plate and run from the table.
//"200cc OHC parallel twin 4-stroke engine and 5-speed transmission, me lad, be careful with this baby: it runs approximately 80mph." The teenager fidgeted impatiently. Mundungus decided to keep him in suspense for a bit longer. The big surprise would come eventually. "Yer know, I think this bike's perfect fer yer. Firs' it the ideal colour, black, - well except, of course for the fenders and handlebars, these are chrome - and secondly, if you press this knot -", here he pointed to the ending of the right handlebar, "though, I'm not sure if I should tell yer ." Sirius looked ready to burst at that point. Mundungus coughed to hide a chuckle. "Ah well, it's not really interesting, anyway. Only an invisibility booster fer when yer fly, see!" The look on his godson's face was priceless.//
The former Auror put the picture back on the shelf again but he couldn't yet look away. In a firm voice he made a declaration which was just as solemn as his godson pledge for revenge. "I will get you out of there, kid. I will!"
Chapter added on 07/04/2003. Reviews will be answered in Chapter One entitled "Author Notes, Disclaimer, Answers to Reviews, etc." Constructive criticism welcome! Please, review!
After having to remain in bed for two days Remus felt the urge to be outside again. Warping the boy and himself in warm clothes he strode out pushing the buggy in front of him. The cold November air was a welcomed contrast to the stuffiness of the heated house, which protected them from an early winter's chill. They reached a small lake and upon a bench beside an old oak tree the werewolf sat and rested. It was not long before a man arrived with his dog on a leash. A great beast it was with shaggy dark hair and a red collar around its neck. It played with its owner near the nearly frozen water for a while until the human was red-faced and out of breath. They departed soon afterwards. But as simple a spectacle as this might be it still triggered a memory in Remus' mind from a time long gone, and as he stared at man and beast his conscience drifted away...
//"If I were you I'd be careful 'bout what I do!" James Potter laughed at his companion, a black shaggy-haired dog. It was growling fiercely at a young, wet man with light-brown, dripping hair. "Well you brought it onto you yourself, Padfoot." The dog snarled louder. He didn't fancy being told it was his own fault that one of his best friends had turned him into an animal constantly or at least until someone cast the counter-curse. What good was being an Animagus when you couldn't switch forms? And besides Sirius Black wanted to be himself again. That's how it had started, anyway, with him being his usual vibrant and perky self. Remus had been wailing over the stifling heat. His friend had thus decided that a refreshment was due and so// the young man felt a bucket full of freezing cold water being brought down on his head. He shook himself in a dog-like fashion and merely glared at the guard. It was no use protesting, he'd gain nothing but a punishment from it. Back in his cell Sirius Black quickly put on his robe not just to remedy the state of his nudity but fore-mostly to feel a little bit warmer. Azkaban felt like the arctic pole in the winter, and that the water with which he was splashed was hardly over 0 °C didn't help either. Yet, though the sheer inhumane treatment of the prisoners was anything but acceptable Sirius looked forward to these weekly washings. These were the only times when the Dementors were far enough away for memories of happier days to come rushing back to him like a deluge, and just like the rain after a long period of arid weather brought release to the dehydrated earth and saved the flowers and trees from dying, these fragments of long lost beatitude brought joy and helped Padfoot to maintain his sanity and his will to live.
'Was it really only last summer?', he wondered, 'It almost seems like a life-time ago.' The werewolf sorrowfully stared at the retreating forms of the dog and its owner as they were passing beneath an old oak-tree. The wind had knocked down all the leaves from the branches but one. This - it was a rather shabby and feeble-looking leaf - little follow was the only one left to fend of the bad weather and to spite all perils. The only one of so many to have got through the darkest times. 'I'm the only one left.' "Moony!" Remus started and looked down at the small boy. Harry had successfully jerked his guardian out of his reverie once again. When his gaze reverted back to the tree the leaf had already fallen. His mouth set into a firm and determined line the werewolf pushed the baby-stroller in front of him and purposefully set out towards home.
Three weeks later saw the two of them seated on a comfy sofa in the abode of a once famous Auror. "- and then the hag said...", Remus quickly covered Harry's ears. Mundungus Fletcher - though really a kind man - was very much like his favourite nephew. Beginning with his rather - well, there was no other word for it - dirty sense of humour and ending with his tendency towards irresponsible behaviour. And sure enough the punch-line of the joke he was currently retelling was on the higher levels of smut. "Yer get it, lad, rhubarb!" And he dissolved into fits of laughter. In fact, he was laughing so hard that his beefy, round face turned a nice shade of red and strands of his shaggy, greyish hair, which had fallen into his face, were soaked by the tears running down both cheeks.
Remus chuckled lightly and released his charge's ears. The danger seemed to be over. "It was definitely a good one.", he answered politely and in order to distract the man before he could try to deprave the Potters' kid again asked "But say, you haven't told me anything about what you've been doing lately, yet?" Fletcher calmed down immediately and his expression got more serious than it had ever been before. "You know", he began hesitantly, "I couldn't have loved James and Lily more if they'd been my own children and I absolutely adore little Harry here.", he ruffled the boy's messy hair and paused for a moment. Mundungus knew that this was a crucial moment. He ran a hand through his own hair nervously and averted his eyes. Scanning the room which was littered with crumpled pieces of parchment his gaze finally came to rest on the mantelpiece. There, in central position, was a photograph of his favourite godson - well, his only godson, to be honest. Mundungus' behaviour didn't particularly entitle him to guardianship in most people's opinion. He regarded the picture a little longer. It had been taken on his former charge's 18th birthday. A young man with jet-black hair leaned against an equally dark motorcycle shooting a charming smile at his godfather and waving vivaciously. He looked for all the world like an overly enthusiastic pup just then.
Mundungus smiled sadly and turned to Remus again who had narrowed his eyes as he became aware of what the man had been staring at. "What I'm gonna say now," he started, "is really important to me, yer know." The werewolf's' brows furrowed. Something bad must have happened for Fletcher to get this unusually sombre. "Anda, before you make any judgement lemme finish first." This did not bode well.
~**~
Blue. It was definitely blue. The walls had a blue tinge. Of course, mostly they were black and grey, covered in grime and dust, but they had a blue tinge. Black, grey, blue. Black clouds, grey sky, blue water. Black clothed fiends, grey prison robes, blue tinged walls. Black matted hair, grey - 'rat!'
"Open the door."
A key turns in the lock.
"What the hell?!"
//"Stupefy!"//
~**~
Doubt was written plainly on Remus face but it quickly turned into anger. "For your sake," he started in a voice barely above a whisper, "I hope that you did not just attempt to convince me that He is innocent!" Mundungus bit his lip. "Would you really want someone, irrespective of who it is, to suffer the worst fate men is able to think of, even though there is the slightest possibility that he doesn't deserve it?" He looked imploringly at the werewolf, appealing to his humane nature. It almost worked. "No," Remus responded calmly, "but there's no possibility that He is innocent. - Excuse me, I have to leave." He arose from the sofa, picked up Harry, and was gone in a glaringly green flame before Mundungus could even bid him good-bye. The picture of Sirius fell onto the floor.
//"You mean it?! You actually mean it?!" He couldn't believe it. A real Honda, a real Honda motorcycle! And it was his! He bit his lip and gingerly touched the chrome handlebars fearing that this was all a dream but it was not. It was solid, didn't fade, and it was his, Sirius'.
"It's a HONDA 1974 CL200 SCRAMBLER. Only been built fer one year." Mundungus' eyes twinkled as he observed his godson's reaction. A motorcycle had always been Sirius' greatest wish, yet his parents had never allowed him one.
"She's beautiful.", he breathed. "Thanks. Thank you so much."//
It had been winter term of is seventh and final year when the news of his parents' death had arrived. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, had given Sirius permission to leave a few days prior the beginning of Christmas holidays. It had been the saddest Christmas either of them had ever had. Mundungus had watched helplessly as his godson became more and more depressive each passing day. The once cheerful and outgoing boy spent his time sleeping or staring out of the window into nothingness. He would not speak.
When finally he had sought contact again, at dinner on the 27th, his hoarse voice had almost stopped Mundungus heart but it would be the words that would always echo in his mind. "I will kill them!" Sirius face had been a frown and he had spoken with the conviction of someone who swore a sacred oath. "God help me, I murder every single one of them Death-Eater scum!" Enraged he had banged his fork on the plate and run from the table.
//"200cc OHC parallel twin 4-stroke engine and 5-speed transmission, me lad, be careful with this baby: it runs approximately 80mph." The teenager fidgeted impatiently. Mundungus decided to keep him in suspense for a bit longer. The big surprise would come eventually. "Yer know, I think this bike's perfect fer yer. Firs' it the ideal colour, black, - well except, of course for the fenders and handlebars, these are chrome - and secondly, if you press this knot -", here he pointed to the ending of the right handlebar, "though, I'm not sure if I should tell yer ." Sirius looked ready to burst at that point. Mundungus coughed to hide a chuckle. "Ah well, it's not really interesting, anyway. Only an invisibility booster fer when yer fly, see!" The look on his godson's face was priceless.//
The former Auror put the picture back on the shelf again but he couldn't yet look away. In a firm voice he made a declaration which was just as solemn as his godson pledge for revenge. "I will get you out of there, kid. I will!"
Chapter added on 07/04/2003. Reviews will be answered in Chapter One entitled "Author Notes, Disclaimer, Answers to Reviews, etc." Constructive criticism welcome! Please, review!