Chapter Fifteen: On The Finer Points Of Being Useful...
Summary: Fifteenth chapter. Thirty-four to go. That about sums it up.
Arabella led Harry back down Diagon Alley to a small shop. The glass window outside was labeled EXPRESS TRAVEL. Under the name was written 'Broom Rentals By The Hour, Day, Week, Or Month, Portkeys To Exotic Locations Available, Apparition Licenses'.
Harry had shown little interest in where they were going until he heard the bell ring on the shop door. Until then he had simply allowed Arabella to lead him off down the street while he stared back at the spot he had last seen Sirius before he disappeared among the black robed figures of the ministry wizards. But now he turned around and found himself inside a shop that greatly reminded him of a travel agency. Or at least what he thought one would look like and what he had seen in TV ads. Since the Dursley's never took Harry anywhere, he had never actually been in one.
Inside the small office-like room there were several desks with witches or wizards sitting behind them, most of them eagerly discussing travel plans with clients who were sitting in front of them. The walls were covered with posters of tranquil mountain scenes or bright sunny beaches. As Harry watched one poster a couple casually strolled down the white sand as a wave lapped up on the shore near their feet.
Harry was still staring at the poster when a short wizard came hurrying up to them, a wide smile on his face.
"May I be of some assistance?" He asked in a solicitous tone. "A trip abroad perhaps? Something educational?" He added, grinning merrily at Harry.
"We need a portkey." Arabella replied shortly. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy."
The man's face fell. "Well," he quickly recovered himself, "I suppose we can't get more educational than that, can we?"
Arabella gave him a tight smile as he turned and walked off, mumbling something about low commissions.
When he returned he was holding a small circular ring that had a rectangular piece of metal attached to it. Harry looked over the tab, which read 'Hogwarts'.
"All right then," the man said, handing the portkey to Arabella. "See the cashier for payment and activation, please."
Harry followed Arabella to a young witch behind a small counter near the front of the agency office.
"You'll be wanting to leave straight away then?" the girl asked as Arabella handed her several coins.
"Yes, please." Arabella answered, her voice still very low and tight.
"From our office?" the girl asked.
"Yes." Arabella replied.
The young witch leaned over the counter and tapped the circular ring with her wand as she muttered a few words Harry didn't catch as the portkey suddenly pulled them away from the small office.
They landed just outside Hogwart's gates. Arabella stood waiting as Harry brushed himself off. She had landed steadily on her feet while Harry had landed in a soft patch of grass.
"I hate traveling by Portkeys." He stated unhappily.
"Come along, Harry." Arabella instructed, starting toward the castle. "I need to see Dumbledore as soon as possible."
Less than thirty minutes later they were both seated in the Headmaster's office as Arabella poured out the story for him. Dumbledore listened carefully, occasional casting a worried gaze at Harry. Harry had sat passively through most of the story up to the point where Arabella repeated how she had admonished Sirius when they first discovered Harry was missing. Berating him for no being more vigilant. Harry had started to say something then, but found his courage failing him at that moment and had quickly fallen silent again.
Dumbledore sighed and leaned back in his seat, steepleing his fingers in front of him. "I am sorry, Arabella," He said. "At this point I have to say the best thing for us to do is to wait and let Alastor do what he can."
Arabella looked resigned to the fact that there was nothing more they could do than what Dumbledore suggested.
"There's a small studio on the third floor," Dumbledore continued. "I'll see that it's made available for you and Harry." The Headmaster turned to Harry. "While you were in the muggle world, Harry, as long as you had Arabella and Sirius looking after you, I wasn't too worried for your safety. But under the circumstances," he cast a quick glance at Arabella, who didn't seem to be paying any particular attention to him at the moment, "I think it's best you stay here for the time being."
Harry nodded, then turned to his godmother, gently touching her arm. "Moody'll get him out, Arabella." He said softly. "You'll see."
Arabella turned to him, a little of her old light coming back into her eyes. She gave him a tired sort of smile and nodded. She then turned back to Dumbledore. "You'll let us know if anything happens?"
"You'll be the first to hear." He replied, giving Harry a small smile. "Now, it's been a long day. Why don't you both head upstairs. I'll see something is sent up."
Arabella thanked Dumbledore, then got up, leading Harry in front of her out the door.
Some clothes and other necessities had been sent for from Arabella's house and were waiting for them when they arrived at the small apartment. For a long time Harry sat on the great fourposter bed, staring forlornly at the floor. Why couldn't things ever just stay the same, he quietly lamented to himself. When he was at Arabella's, everything was almost perfect. He had nearly everything he wanted, nearly just as he wanted it. The closest thing to a father and mother he was likely to ever have, he was safe and protected, and he was unbelievably happy. Why couldn't things have stayed that way just a little while longer?
'Because you did something stupid,' he told himself angrily. Everything he had lost he lost because of his own stupidity. Because he didn't do what Arabella and Sirius had said. He never took the danger the two of them had warned him about seriously enough. Now Sirius was going back to Azkaban and he would never see his godfather again, and it was only a matter of time before Arabella realized who was to blame for the whole great mess. Then she wouldn't want him back and.......oh, well, ...back to the Dursley's.
Harry snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Arabella calling him for dinner. Slowly he got off his bed and trudged into the kitchen.
Arabella seemed a little of her old self. She gave him her familiar warm smile as he came in and sat down at the table. Noting his mood as she sat at the corner next to him, Arabella set about trying to cheer him up.
"Look, Harry," she said softly, resting a hand on his arm. "I know you're worried. I am too. But....if I have ever had faith in anyone, I have faith in Moody. I've known him for a long time, and if anyone can straighten this out and get Sirius back to us, he can. So try not to worry too much, OK? Everything will be fine in the morning. You'll see."
Harry managed a small smile for Arabella's sake. Truth was, her reassurances did little to improve his mood. Something that apparently wasn't missed by the Auror as Arabella watched him moving the food about on his plate, eating very little of it.
"You want to talk about it?" She asked finally.
Harry hadn't looked up at her once during the entire meal. Now he slowly turned his eyes to her. He quickly shook his head as he turned back to his plate. The entire meal he had been fighting back his tears of self-accusation. But now they suddenly broke free under his godmother's worried gaze.
Arabella quickly reached out and pulled her godson into her arms. "Oh, Harry," she said softly, wrapping him tightly in her arms, "Please don't cry. It'll be all right. You'll see."
Harry buried his face in her shoulder and cried that much harder. It was all his fault, and yet Arabella was still trying to comfort him. A comfort that would be ripped away from him forever when she learned the truth of who was to blame for what happened in Diagon Alley.
Unable to face that realization, Harry pulled abruptly out of Arabella's arms and ran to his room.
Slamming the door behind him, he slumped down to the floor against his bed and buried his face on his arms as he continued to cry. For several minutes he sat in the awful solitude. But eventually he heard the door creak open on its hinges.
"Harry?" He heard Arabella call softly. "Can I come in?"
Harry looked up at her past his tears. "Why?" He asked hoarsely. "Why do you even care?"
Arabella came over to him and sat next to him on the floor. "Why?" She asked in mild surprise. "Because you're my godson, Harry. And I have spent the last fifteen years of my life growing to love you. Every tear you cried was like my own. Every pain you felt, I felt too. What little joy I had was when your idiot relatives left you with me. But even that hurt, because I could never tell you the truth. I had to remain the 'crazy old cat lady' to you. Oh, I'd have taken you away from them a lot more if Dumbledore had let me. I'd have had you spend the whole summer redoing my garden if I could have. Now mind you, I wouldn't have really made you do all that work." She added, turning to him with a smile. "But we'd have thought up something to tell your aunt and uncle." The smile quickly faded into a frown. "But Dumbledore said 'no'. Told me I had to 'limit contact' so no one became too suspicious." Arabella draped her arm protectively over his shoulders as Harry turned to her. "But it has all been worth it. Every day of it. Because now I have you, and I am never going to let you go."
Harry quickly turned back to the floor.
"Harry," Arabella asked with concern. "What is it? Won't you tell me what's wrong?"
Harry sighed quietly to himself as he sniffed back his tears. There was really no point in putting it off. She was bound to find out eventually. And it wasn't right for her to be so angry at Sirius for something he hadn't really done.
"Sirius didn't do anything wrong in Diagon Alley," he whispered softly, not daring to look at her. Instead he wiped the back of his hand over his face. "It was my fault."
"Harry," Arabella stepped in quickly, "I know how much you care about Sirius. But he had a job to do, plain and simple. And he failed to do it. Don't be blaming yourself for his mistake."
Harry shook his head. "But it wasn't his mistake, it was mine." Harry replied. "Sirius was watching me, Arabella. But....he turned to see where you were....and I....snuck off. I made sure he won't see. It wasn't his fault, you see?"
Arabella stared down at her godson for a moment. "Why did you wander off like that?" She asked quietly.
"I thought I saw Ron." Harry answered. "He was just a few feet down the street, going around a corner. I was sure I could catch up to him, then we could both get back to where Sirius was sitting before he even knew I was gone. But.....when I went around the corner, the person I thought was Ron was down at the end of the alley....and I thought it wasn't that much further. And I really wanted to see him. I hadn't seen him all summer. So I ran after him. He went into a shop and I followed. It wasn't that much further. And then.....I ended up in the back of the shop and...and there was Pettigrew, and a bunch of Deatheaters. The person I had thought was Ron turned out to be Pettigrew wearing a red wig."
Arabella was staring at her godson in alarm. "Harry, that was very, very foolish! You could have been killed! Do you understand that?"
Harry turned quickly back to the floor. "Yes, ma'am." He said quietly.
"And it still doesn't excuse your godfather not noticing you were gone. He should have noticed that in seconds. You were gone from his side for several minutes."
Harry looked forlornly at the floor again. "I'm afraid that was my fault too." He said.
Arabella cocked her head to one side, staring thoughtfully at her godson. "How is that possible?" She asked. "You weren't even there."
"No," Harry agreed. "But I think I know what was on his mind that had him so distracted. And I'm the one who gave him the idea to begin with."
"What idea?"
"It was about the jacket." Harry explained. "The leather one you two were arguing over. I was trying to cheer Sirius up about it, and I told him maybe someone would get it for him for Christmas."
"And that drove him to distraction? The thought of getting that awful thing for Christmas? He's in more trouble than he knows." She sighed quietly.
Harry shook his head. "No. That's not all." He added. "He thought I meant 'I' was going to give it to him. But I told him I thought that maybe...well..., that maybe...you might...because.....well....,because you seem to like Sirius."
Arabella stared silently at Harry with a questioning gaze.
"And after that he just sort of sat there staring ahead with that look on his face like people have when their lost in thought. And I figured he wouldn't notice if I snuck off for a few minutes."
Harry sat silently next to his godmother, waiting for the worst. Surely she was going to realize now who was at fault for the day's disaster. She was risking losing someone she cared about because of him. Most likely she would go to Dumbledore as soon as she could and asked that someone else be placed in charge of his protection.
And what if Moody couldn't help Sirius? Harry couldn't even follow that thought through. The conclusion was simply too terrifying for him.
"So," Arabella said after a few moments, and Harry braced himself for that 'worst' part. "All of this has basically transpired because Sirius was that interested in getting that jacket?" She turned a thoughtful stare to Harry. "You think he really liked it then?"
Harry took a moment to answer. The conclusion, let alone the question, wasn't at all what he was expecting. "I guess so," was all he managed to be able to answer.
Arabella pulled out her wand and pointed it at the floor in front of them and muttered a few words. "Well," she stated as a small packing box appeared on the floor before them, "by Merlin's beard, I certainly hope so."
She reached over and opened the box for Harry to see. Inside was the very leather jacket they had argued over so fiercely in the store. Harry stared at it in amazement as he lifted it out of the box.
"You bought it for him!" He stated in amazement as he turned to Arabella. "You swore you wouldn't."
Arabella shrugged. "I was going to give it to him for Christmas."
Harry leaned back against her, holding the jacket tightly to his chest. "I thought you'd be mad at me." He said quietly. "For Sirius being captured."
"Harry, it wasn't your fault." Arabella replied softly as she stroked his hair. "You did something wrong, yes. You should have stayed with Sirius. But how could you have seen something suspicious in something that seemed so innocent? Voldemort's traps are never clearly labeled, my little one. And I will say I am disappointed in you that you didn't do as I told you to. But if you're looking for who I blame for Sirius being back in the hands of the ministry? I think a certain small rat holds that honor all by himself."
Harry hugged the jacket a little tighter. Again the frightening visions of what would happen to Sirius if Moody couldn't help him came rushing back in on him, as well as the part he had had to play in the events leading up to Sirius' capture. Unconsciously he squeezed Arabella's arm a little tighter as he leaned against her still.
Arabella leaned down and lightly kissed his head, wrapping her arm a little tighter about him. "It'll be all right, Harry. You'll see."
The next morning Arabella awoke to a horrible cramp in her legs. She tried to shift her position when she felt the weight leaning against her side. She turned quickly to Harry, still sleeping leaned up against her. She smiled slightly at him, watching him sleep on peacefully. But her smile slowly faded as she looked about the room. At the rays of sunlight streaming in through the windows. It was morning. Late morning.
Trying to calm herself down, Arabella sat as still as she could. There was no point in waking Harry any sooner than she had to.
A half hour later Harry finally woke up and stretched his legs out as he yawned. Looking about the room, he turned quickly to Arabella.
"It's morning!" He exclaimed. "Has there been..."
Arabella quickly cut him off as she shook her head. "There hasn't been any word yet, Harry. But it's only morning."
"But Moody said he could only delay things until morning..."
Arabella had to fight from being drawn into the growing panic in Harry's voice. "And we won't likely hear anything until this afternoon." She tried to calm him. She pushed him to his feet with a slight shove. "Go and get changed. We'll have some breakfast and then go and see Dumbledore, all right. He'll know faster than anyone what's going on."
Harry hurried off to change out of the cloths he'd slept in.
Breakfast was mostly a silent affair. Neither of them felt much like eating. All that Harry could think of was getting to Dumbledore's office. Of hearing that Sirius was safe and was coming to join them.
Thirty minutes later Harry was practically pulling Arabella down the hallway to the passage that led to the Headmaster's office. But Dumbledore had nothing new to tell them. Whatever was going on at the ministry was being kept very quiet. The only assurance he was able to give them was that Sirius was still in the custody of the ministry and had not been turned over to the Dementors at Azkaban.
Following Dumbledore's advice, Arabella took Harry out for a walk around the lake to try and take his mind off things for a bit. But when they arrived back at the castle near one o'clock, there still had been no word from Moody.
Arabella did her best to hide her growing anxiety from Harry. She kept replaying in her own mind Dumbledore's words of hope to them. They hadn't heard anything from the ministry. If they went forward with Sirius' punishment, Moody would know, and he would tell them. He was never one for feeling that hiding the truth was the kindest way to go with things.
But no matter how hard she tried to keep hope alive for her and Harry, by six that evening she was practically beside herself with worry. Dinner was all but forgotten as she paced nervously about the small livingroom.
Harry sat on the couch watching her. A vague sense of unreality had settled on him as they had walked about the lake that morning. These things couldn't really be happening. They weren't going to sentence his godfather to a living death. Somehow Arabella and Dumbledore would figure out a way to save him. He was sure of it.
But as he sat on the sofa, watching the sun set beyond the large glass windows of the studio apartment, he slowly felt his hope fading with the last rays of the sun. Moody had said he couldn't delay things any more than that morning. It was now twelve hours later and they hadn't heard a word from him.
Harry watched his godmother go through the routine he had been charting for the past several hours. It started with pacing about the room, then would move to standing at the corner of one of the windows, would then shift to a small desk set in the corner where she sat for a few minutes, then progress to another room, where she would eventually emerge out of after five to ten minutes to start the whole process over.
"Arabella?" Harry said as she walked past him.
Arabella stopped abruptly, turning to Harry as though she had never once in all the times she had walked past that very spot, ever seen him.
"What is it, Dear?" She asked, trying to sound like her usual solicitous self. But it came out very short and on edge.
Harry tried to think of something to say that would sound reassuring, but nothing would come to mind. But as always, Arabella seemed to read his mind. She came over and sat down next to him as she draped her arm over his shoulders.
"We'll find out something in the morning." She said. "You'll see. Now, we missed supper. Would you like me to see if we can't get something to eat?"
Harry shook his head just as the bell to their door sounded. Harry nearly jumped a foot in the air at the unexpected sound. Next to him Arabella simply froze.
The doorbell sounded again.
Arabella turned to Harry as she got up stiffly from the sofa. "Harry, go to your room." She said quietly.
Harry looked up at her, aghast. "Why? Arabella, I want to..."
Arabella's expression became very hard. "Go to your room!" She stated, louder this time. But her features quickly soften at the stricken look on Harry's face. "Please, Harry. Do this for me, all right? No arguments."
Harry started to protest further as the doorbell rang a third time. But the look on Arabella's face stopped him. If the news wasn't good she didn't want him facing it right off. She would tell him herself, finding some way to soften the blow. She stood the consummate protector to the end. Shielding him from every harsh part of life that she could. Slowly Harry turned and left to his room.
Arabella listened to his door close, followed closely by the fourth chime of the doorbell. Taking a deep breath she willed herself over to the door. She paused for a moment, then opened the door.
In the doorway stood Alastor Moody. In his hand a rope leading past the side of the door that Arabella did not pay much attention to at first. What struck her the most was that Moody was alone. But the expression on his face was quite unreadable.
"Madam!" He stated empirically. "I understand that you have lost a dog."
Arabella stood opened mouthed. The question struck her as the strangest thing that could have happened in the sequence of events. But her delay seemed to have no effect on Moody's pronouncement. He continued on, sounding very much like an overly well-trained police officer.
"I understand he is a large, black, mangy animal. Possesses a most offensive odor, doesn't follow commands well, has more fleas than a camel, is generally lazy, shiftless, rude, cocky, could benefit from a good neutering, to my knowledge has not held a steady job in the last sixteen years, and seems to have the name 'Freefood', since that is the only call to which he would answer. Is this an adequate description of your dog, Madam?"
Arabella continued to stand opened mouthed in the doorway. She managed to make some small sound, but that was all.
Moody shook his long mane of gray hair. "I see. Visuals are better then, aye?" He gave the rope a solid tug. Almost immediately a large, black dog bounded around the corner and leapt straight at Arabella, who on sight of him suddenly found her voice.
She drew a sharp intake a air. "Sirius!" She cried, breaking into tears as she wrapped her arms about the shaggy neck.
"Think hard, Madam." Moody stated in an undertone as he watched her hug the dog's neck. "We could forget we saw anything. Take him back and get you a proper dog."
"No, no." Arabella cried through her tears. "I want him. Only him."
In her embrace the black dog suddenly transformed, and Arabella found herself caught up in two powerful arms that wound their way about her and pulled her close.
"'Bella," was all she heard, whispered soft and almost reverently in her ear before a pair of lips closed over her's in an endearing kiss.
"Remember what I said about the neutering." Moody put in from behind them with a sharp tap on Sirius' shoulder with his cane.
Sirius turned to him with a sneer. "And I'll thank you to remember that the reason I haven't had a job in sixteen years had something to do with the fact I was in prison for twelve of those years."
"What about the other four?"
"People aren't exactly lining up to hire on-the-run-escapees."
"Everybody has an excuse. Just remember you have a job now." Moody commented as he handed the rope to Arabella. "Use it wisely." He offered.
Having heard the commotion, Harry had stuck his head cautiously out of his door. But seeing his godfather, his face lit with excitement and he let out a yell as he ran across the room, straight into Sirius' open arms.
"Sirius!" Harry cried over and over as he wrapped his arms tightly about Sirius' neck.
Crouched on the floor, Sirius wrapped himself as completely as he could about his godson. It didn't matter to him that Harry's death grip on him was threateningly close to cutting off his breathing. All that matter to him was that he was back with his family. That for this one brief moment, they were all safe.
"Just remember what got you here, Black." Moody grumbled from the doorway.
Arabella quickly wrapped her arms about Sirius' as he stood back up to face Moody, his hands resting protectively on Harry's shoulders. "And this is no free ride."
Arabella turned quickly to Sirius, then to Moody. "What's going on?" She asked. "Alastor?"
"Black isn't exactly free, Arabella," Moody explained. "No more so than a bird is in a cage."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm only free so far as the ministry thinks I'm 'useful'." Sirius replied, anger slightly edging his tone.
"And be glad for it, boy." Moody pointed a finger at him. "Or else right now you'd be worse than dead instead of standing here comforting your loved ones."
Arabella looked at the two men with a confused stare.
"Situation is this." Moody explained, catching her stare. "When Black got to the ministry I got him secluded in a room for questioning. Told them I was sure he had vital information on Voldemort and I was likely the only one who could get it out of him. Black and I sat down and had a nice long chat. Long enough to convince me, with everything else added to the mix, that he was likely telling the truth."
"Likely?" Sirius put in.
"You haven't 100% convinced me, Black." Moody growled at him. "Know a lot of Deatheaters that are up for acting awards."
"I'm no Deatheater!"
"After listening to Black," Moody went on as though he hadn't heard him, "I went to talk to 'certain' members of the ministry. Couple of higher ranking officials. Sort of a...special unit, if you like, of ministry members within the ministry itself. People who aren't as closed minded about seizing an opportunity when they see one. Who would be willing to trade a small catch for...say, a larger one."
Arabella turned to Sirius, then back to Moody. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about trading for a man's life, Arabella. And actually, it had a lot to do with you that he is where he is."
"Me?"
"You said you saw Pettigrew...alive...back in Diagon Alley."
"I did see him, Alastor." Arabella stated as though her whole life hinged on convincing Moody she was telling the truth.
"And I don't doubt you, girl." Moody replied, waving a hand at her. "So much so that I took your story before these members of the ministry. Now, where as these people may not be inclined to believe Black alone, you're a different matter. You're an Auror. One of my most trusted. And with me backing you and this story of yours, these men saw no bases to not at least check into the possibility. Another point these men listened to was that Black told an interesting story about the events in the alleyway. My guess is if I questioned you and Potter, I'd get much the same story. So, on a leap of faith, I backed up Black's story. Said I saw the Deatheaters myself in the alleyway. Plus, when I met up with you in Diagon Alley you weren't sputtering off some tale about having to defend Potter from Black. If anything, Black seems to have been acting the role of defender. As well did you come to his defense as to his innocence. You're a good judge of character, Arabella. Always have been. Man can't be all bad if you're willing to stand up for him."
"So they released Sirius?" Arabella asked hopefully.
Sirius gave a scornful chuckle next to her.
"He's far from free, Arabella." Moody replied. "Like I said, no more than a bird is in a cage. These ministry members know where Black is. And they will know every second of the day. He's being tracked magically. There's no way he could escape them right now."
"So what happens now?" Arabella asked.
"As of right now, you could sort of say Black here is back working for the ministry."
"What?"
"In an unofficial capacity, of course." Moody put in. "As far as anyone in the ministry is concerned, Black was sent back to Azkaban this morning. No matter who you asked down there, that's what they'll tell you. And that's the official story you'll see appearing in the Daily Prophet tomorrow. Had to give Fudge something to keep that idiot man happy. But only a very few ministry members know the truth."
"And 'unofficially'?" Arabella asked quietly. "What is Sirius' 'job' with the ministry?"
"Black is for the most part to remain doing what he appears to be doing. Protecting Potter. Black was one of the best Aurors the ministry had. If he is innocent, there's no point in not putting him back to work doing what he seems to do best. Protecting the boy. And should Potter happen to meet up with Voldemort again, no offence, boy, but you seem to be a little bit of a 'Voldemort magnet'," Moody put in, casting a quick glance at Harry before turning back to Arabella, "you and Black together can be there to hopefully help make sure Potter survives. Granted, the boy has survived each encounter up until now. But Voldemort is getting stronger. As well are his followers gaining in number. All with one order at the top of their list. Kill the boy. Potter's no Auror, though he'd likely make a very good one when he's older and with proper training. But he doesn't have the skills in place to recognize potential danger the way you and Black do. These ministry members are smart enough to see beyond just catching Black to seeing the larger picture. How important it is above all that the boy survives."
Harry back up, pressing his body a little closer to Sirius. The way Moody was talking was more than a little disquieting to him. It sounded like these ministry members...whoever they were...expected him to single-handedly kill Voldemort for them. The only positive side to that seemed to be they were willing to do whatever it took to see that he survived long enough to do it. Include releasing Sirius. But Harry didn't think the trade off was such a good deal for Sirius either. Granted, without it he would likely be worse than dead right now. But acting the part of his protector, Sirius could end up killed by a Deatheater or by Voldemort himself.
A slight pressure on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts. Harry turned to look up at his godfather.
"It's no worse than what I was doing before, Harry." Sirius seemed to read his mind. "And it's worth it for a lot of reasons. So don't worry about it."
Harry managed a small smile as he turned back to the floor. But he suddenly looked up at Moody as a thought came to him.
"Wait a minute!" He said. "People are still looking for Sirius. What if someone sees him? I mean, he's suppose to be in Azkaban."
"No one's going to recognize Black." Moody explained. "Ministry has an 'unrecognizable charm' on him. Anyone except someone who knows him past just a casual acquaintance will see a completely different person. Not Black. Sort of like a disguise you never have to bother taking off."
Moody went on to explain a few basic precautions to Harry and Arabella. Mostly they were never to repeat to anyone what he had just told them. Anyone who needed to know, knew. They were also to never tell anyone about the spell placed on Sirius to disguise his appearance. Telling someone who didn't know Sirius, who the man standing before them actually was would break the spell. And if word ever came back to the ministry that Sirius had been seen outside of Azkaban, Sirius would be immediately arrested and sent back to prison.
A few instructions later, Moody was on his way back to the ministry.
For the longest time Sirius simply stood in the doorway of the small studio apartment, his arms wrapped tightly about Arabella and Harry, who hugged him back just as tightly. All of them understood how very close they had come to Sirius' being returned to the Dementors. Especially Harry, who still blamed himself for the events in Diagon Alley.
Arabella finally pulled herself out of Sirius' embrace, quickly wiping her eyes as she did so.
"You must be hungry." She said with a tired smile. "And you too." She added, gently ruffling Harry's hair. "We missed dinner tonight. I'll go see what the house elves have left over."
Arabella gave Sirius one last glance, that she quickly directed to Harry before she looked back up at him.
Sirius watched her go, then turned his attention back to his godson. Arabella's silent look had said more to him than any words could have. Something was wrong, and it involved Harry.
Sirius started to slip the pieces together. Arabella had left the room. So it was something he and Harry needed to discuss. She hadn't indicated anything else, so it had to involve the situation close at hand. And she left on a task that could take a certain amount of time, so it was serious.
Sirius paused for a moment, putting himself in the frame of mind to confront whatever was bothering his godson, and pulled Harry back, staring down at him as he held him by the shoulders.
"All right," Sirius stated, "what's wrong?"
"Wrong?" Harry asked, a genuine look of bewilderment on his face.
"Arabella left so we could talk, Harry. Something had to be wrong."
Harry shook his head. "Sirius, I swear. Nothing's wrong."
"You are glad I came back, right?" Sirius asked with a grin. "Weren't looking to inherit anything?"
Harry launched himself back into Sirius' arms, squeezing him about the waist as tight as he could. "I've never been so happy to see anyone in my life, Sirius. I never thought I would see you again. If they had taken you to Azkaban, they'd have given you straight to the Dementors. They'd have given you the Kiss. And you'd never be coming back. And it would have been my...." Harry stopped abruptly.
Sirius pulled Harry back, staring down at him again.
"Would have been 'what', Harry?" He asked somberly.
Harry turned to the floor. It was bad enough to have had to admit what he did to Arabella. And even though she had insisted he wasn't to blame, Harry couldn't shake his guilt that easily. But now he had to go through it all again, this time facing his godfather. The person who had almost had to pay a most severe price for his foolishness.
"Harry?"
Harry kept staring at the ground in front of him. "My fault." He said quietly. "It would have been my fault."
Harry suddenly found his head forced back up with a jerk. His godfather's expression was now extremely stern.
"Your fault?" Sirius demanded. "Where did you get such a ludicrous idea?"
"It's not." Harry stated weakly, still forced to meet Sirius' eyes. "I snuck off. I made sure you wouldn't notice I was gone."
Sirius crouched in front of his godson. "Why would you do such a thing, Harry?" He asked, his expression altering to one of concern.
Harry paused as he fought back his tears. "I thought I saw Ron, down the street. He wasn't very far away, and I just wanted to say 'hi'. I haven't seen him all summer. I was sure I would be back before you noticed I was gone."
"And instead you ran into the Deatheaters."
"The person I thought was Ron turned out to be Pettigrew in a red wig. He led me to the back of a shop at the end of an alleyway. That's where I ran into the Deatheaters."
Sirius stood up again, still staring at his godson. "I'm sure there's nothing I could possibly add to what Arabella has already said to you about how foolish what you did was, Harry." Sirius stated. "But I'm also sure that she explained to you that this wasn't your fault. Not any of it. What you did was wrong, yes. But to blame you for falling into Voldemort's trap? If you were an Auror I might think differently. And even then I'd have to look at the whole picture. Voldemort's traps have been known to catch even the most cautious Aurors. But you're still just a boy, Harry. As grown up as you may see yourself for all you've been through, the fact remains you are still very young. Young enough to still be trusting, and young enough to still be fooled..
But Harry, your life isn't like those of other boys your age. And I wish by the stars above I could change that for you. Give you a normal life. But I can't. And the best I can do is try to protect you in the one you have. When Arabella and I tell you to do something, we have a reason. Even if you don't understand it sometimes, or see it immediately. We're always trying to think of your protection. Please always remember that. But Harry, this was not your fault. If you have to assign blame, at least place it properly. The only people responsible for my being captured were Peter and myself. Peter because he's a rat and always will be, and myself for not being more aware of things. I'm disappointed in what you did, but I'm not blaming you for what happened in Diagon Alley. So don't blame yourself. And by the way," he added, "you're grounded."
Harry's head snapped up. "Grounded?"
"Not because of what happened, but for what you did. For sneaking off." Sirius explained. "You disobeyed us, Harry. And I'm afraid for that I do need to exercise a little parental discipline. So, when we return home, you're grounded for a week. You can spend the time cleaning out Arabella's attic, muggle fashion. No magic. She said it needs it. All right?"
Harry nodded. Being punished actually seemed to help his conscience a bit. But the feeling he had been responsible for the events turning out as they had in Diagon Alley wasn't so easy to dispel. But by way of trying to make up for it, Harry solemnly promised himself he would try not to disobey his godparents again when it came to what was for his own protection. A promise he was all too sure would be put to the test in the future.