Truths
By Neurotica
Nineteen
"So as you can see, Black, things are relatively calm around here, which will make it easier for you to get used to it again," Alastor Moody said as he led Sirius through Auror Headquarters.
The office was filled with cubicles of people staring in curiosity and slight fear as Sirius passed them. Sirius, however, was too happy to care about the looks he was receiving.
After a brief training period—during which Sirius would learn the new procedures and protocol of the Aurors and refine his old skills—he would be back in action, so to speak. He would be a senior member of the Auror Squads, just like before, and would be receiving his same pay. His first assignment—and the only one he wanted at the moment—was the search for Peter Pettigrew. Currently, Kingsley Shacklebolt was heading the search, and Sirius would be partnering with him in the efforts.
The only difference that Sirius could see around him was the absence of James. The two had been partners since the very first day they started at the Ministry.
"Shacklebolt's got the day off, but I'll show you where you'll be stationed," Moody growled, limping between cubicles.
The Head Auror led Sirius to the very back of the office. Strangely enough, Sirius' new cubicle was just across from the old one he had shared with James. A blonde-haired witch Sirius didn't recognize now occupied the spot.
"Well, here we are." Moody pointed a scarred finger towards the cubicle.
Sirius felt a surge of anger as he laid eyes on the walls. They were covered with pictures of Wormtail throughout his life, during Hogwarts, graduation, even at Lily and James' wedding. One in particular caught Sirius' eyes: it was one of the last Christmases the Marauders had spent together. Sirius couldn't remember what year, but the Marauders were all there, laughing and trying to push each other out of the frame. Newspaper articles ranging from the day Sirius was arrested to one from just two days ago about Wormtail were also spread across the walls.
A large map on the wall displayed the country with red pushpins showing a location that had been searched, or where Wormtail had been. Sirius looked closer and saw a pin in Surrey and one just over Remus' cottage in Kent.
He tore his eyes from the map and looked at the two desks facing opposite walls. One was empty (that would be Sirius'), but the other (Kingsley's) held personal effects, a full inbox, and parchment and inks.
After Sirius had time for a good look around, Moody cleared his throat. "Right, well, I suppose that's everything of importance. You can go on home. Take care of that kid. Be back tomorrow. Nine o'clock, sharp."
Sirius smiled and thanked Moody graciously for everything before the Head Auror limped away from him to his own office. With another look around, Sirius strolled happily back to the Atrium, anxious to Apparate home and tell Remus and Harry the good news.
Remus sat on Dumbledore's office sofa pale, shaking, and still holding a sleeping Harry tightly. The headmaster had finished a long explanation of the Prophecy concerning Harry and Voldemort.
Kill or be killed... that's what his life is going to be about... Remus kept thinking.
"Are you well, Remus?" Dumbledore asked gently.
The werewolf snapped himself from his thoughts and nodded slightly to Dumbledore—at least he tried to. "So the first war... it was only the beginning, wasn't it?" Remus whispered hoarsely.
Dumbledore betrayed no emotion. "I believe so," he said too calmly for Remus' liking. "However, as long as we remain perceptive, and prepare ourselves early enough, we can be rid of Voldemort forever."
"But at what risk?" Remus asked in the sharpest tone he had ever used with his mentor. His grip increased on Harry. "What—what happens if we... lose?" He whispered the last word, not wanting to begin to think of the negative possibilities.
"A final battle between Harry and Voldemort is inevitable, Remus. That we can not change. But if he is trained early enough—before Voldemort does return—Harry can defeat him. Of this, I do not doubt," Dumbledore replied quietly.
Remus nodded, hoping this was all a nightmare and he would wake up soon with Harry and Sirius standing over him, grinning like maniacs, with some kind of prank planned. Before he had a chance to open his mouth to speak, a sharp piercing scream came from Remus' lap. Remus looked down, startled, as Dumbledore stood from his desk.
Harry was writhing in apparent pain, grasping his forehead as he screamed bloody murder.
"Harry!" Remus cried, trying to wake the small boy. He shook Harry slightly. "Harry, wake up!"
Harry wouldn't wake.
Dumbledore crossed the short distance to Remus and Harry's thrashing form, and knelt before the two of them. He placed a hand on Harry's sweaty forehead, and mumbled a few words Remus couldn't hear over Harry's screams. Almost instantly, Harry stopped thrashing and woke. He was shaking terribly, crying silently but heavily, and still grasped his forehead as he looked up to a horrified Remus.
"Harry?" Dumbledore said quietly.
Harry's wet, green eyes traveled slowly to the Headmaster. Gently, Dumbledore pried Harry's hand from his forehead. "Are you all right?" Dumbledore asked. Harry shook his head slowly; the pain hadn't seemed to have gone away just yet. "Can you tell us where it hurts, Harry?"
Sniffing, Harry raised a shaking hand and pointed to his lightning bolt scar.
Remus' eyes widened and his jaw dropped—what remaining color in the Lycan's face was now gone. Dumbledore, however, seemed completely unfazed by Harry's revelation. "Do you remember what you were dreaming about?" the elder wizard asked quietly, betraying no emotion whatsoever.
Harry sniffed more, fell back further into Remus' chest and closed his eyes. "Bad men..." he whispered so quietly Remus and Dumbledore had to strain their ears.
"What kind of bad men, Harry? What did they look like?" Dumbledore probed.
Remus' breath was caught in his throat.
"B-black cloaks... white f-faces," Harry replied.
Death Eaters... Remus thought instantly.
"Do you know how many there were?"
"Two. But there was one in a c-chair. He d-didn't have a cloak," Harry said, shivering. Remus rubbed his hands across Harry's only exposed arm and back. His stag fell to the floor.
Dumbledore picked it up and handed it back to Harry. "What did the man in the chair look like, Harry?"
Harry clutched his stag closely with both arms, as if it was the only thing protecting him. "...scary..." was all he said.
Dumbledore nodded. He seemed to find an understanding in Harry's words—or lack thereof—that Remus did not. This wouldn't be the first time that Remus thought the old man was experienced in Legilimency.
Dumbledore stood once more without a word and returned to his desk. For a moment, he remained silent, observing Harry over his half-moon spectacles. Blue eyes met green for long minutes as Harry opened his eyes and looked at Dumbledore. Suddenly, and for no obvious reason that Remus could see, Dumbledore jumped slightly in surprise. His eyes widened only for a millisecond before he broke the eye contact with Harry. Dumbledore did not explain what had happened in that second (what had he seen in Harry's eyes?), but changed the subject.
"That's a very nice stag you have there, Harry," Dumbledore said casually. The twinkle in his eyes was faint, but present, as he attempted to lighten the mood.
Harry gave the only smile—however small it had been—Remus had seen from him in nearly two days. It was an immense relief.
"What is his name?" Dumbledore asked.
"Prongs," Harry whispered, still smiling. His crying had stopped, but he still sniffed a bit.
Dumbledore smiled and looked at Remus. "Why don't you take Harry home? I believe he will be all right now. And I am certain you have some things you will wish to discuss with Sirius. I will come by later this evening, if it is acceptable to you, and elaborate on certain things."
Remus was still pale and shaken, but managed a nod to Dumbledore. He stood up, his legs feeling like wet noodles, with Harry in his arms.
"Can we Floo?" Harry asked quietly. Some of the color had returned to his body.
Remus gulped and nodded. "Sure, Harry, sure." At least he's talking now... Remus thought.
Dumbledore stood once more, and handed a jar of Floo powder out to Remus. Taking a handful, Remus cleared his throat, and stepped into the fireplace. Saying his address clearly, Remus and Harry disappeared in a whirl of green flames.
Dumbledore crossed the room and sat heavily at his desk. What he had seen in Harry's eyes was something he wished to never see ever again. Though he knew it would come, the thought didn't make what he'd seen easier to cope with. Knowledge was not always comforting...
For the moment Dumbledore and Harry had locked eyes, the headmaster saw a flash of red in those bright green orbs. It was only visible for a second, if that, but Dumbledore didn't miss it.
Adding this with the nightmare that had awoken Harry, Dumbledore believed he was sure what was happening.
He would have to act fast.
Remus and Harry had arrived home before Sirius that afternoon. As soon as they Flooed in, Harry had announced he was hungry. Remus didn't doubt this for a second; Harry hadn't eaten much, if anything, in the past days. While Harry ate his lunch, Remus went over the terrible day in his mind. So many new facts had entered his brain in such a short time, and Remus wasn't sure he would be able to comprehend them fully for a few more hours. Harry would have to face Voldemort—something no witch or wizard, Death Eater or not—would want to do. Only Harry would have the power to destroy Voldemort once and for all. Dumbledore—the most powerful wizard in centuries—could not even do this. Why? Why Harry? He was only six years old...
One cannot live while the other survives... the prophecy had said.
Then there was the nightmare that had awoken Harry—or was it a nightmare? Bad men in cloaks with white faces, two of them. Was one of them Wormtail? Who was the other? A third not in a cloak. "Scary," Harry had said.
But what did it all mean?
Before Remus could ponder on these thoughts any further, Sirius Apparated into the living room.
"Harry? Remus? You two here?" he called with his back facing the kitchen.
"Sirius!" Harry squealed.
Forgetting about his lunch, he ran to his godfather and hugged him tightly around the legs, nearly making Sirius topple over in shock.
"Er, hey, Harry," Sirius said with a confused look to Remus. Just this morning, Harry had been the quietest Sirius had ever seen him. Remus avoided Sirius' eyes. "What's going on?" Sirius asked both Harry and Remus, pulling Harry into his arms as he walked into the kitchen.
"We went to Hogwarts!" Harry said as Sirius sat him back down in front of his meal.
"Did you now?" Sirius asked as he took his spot next to Harry, across from Remus.
"Uh huh."
"Remus, are you okay?" Sirius asked concerned, looking at his pale friend. He looked like he did before a full moon, but that was still weeks away.
Remus attempted, and failed, to smile—all he managed was a slight grimace. "I'm fine," he said hoarsely. He didn't want to tell Sirius what had happened in Dumbledore's office in front of Harry. Remus cleared his throat and tried to speak casually. "Dumbledore will be over this evening."
Sirius raised his eyebrows. "How come?"
"He, er, just wants to discuss some... things," Remus said lamely.
"Okay," Sirius said slowly. "How you feeling, Harry?"
"Fine," Harry said, eating his lunch once again.
"So, Sirius," Remus said, changing the subject. "How'd everything go at the Ministry?"
Sirius' face brightened considerably. "Brilliantly! I'm going back to my old position, partnered with Kingsley Shacklebolt. I have a week's training period before I can really get back into everything. And I'm on Wormtail's case."
Remus' eyes widened slightly. "They're putting you on Wormtail's case?"
"Yep. I requested it. Moody understood where I was coming from. And he knows I know Wormtail." Sirius scowled.
"Well, used to know him."
Remus nodded vaguely.
Harry finished his lunch shortly after and asked Sirius if they could go for a fly. Sirius jumped at the chance eagerly. He didn't know what had changed Harry's mood so quickly, but he was going to take advantage of it. The two of them changed into flying clothes and went outside. Remus said he would join them later.
With a wave of his wand, Remus cleared the dishes used to make Harry's meal. Slowly, he made his way outside, conjured a chair, and sat to watch Sirius and Harry fly.
Dumbledore had neither confirmed nor denied Voldemort's return; he only said he was "attempting to gather information"— whatever the hell that meant.
Remus knew Dumbledore had a spy from the Order in the Death Eater's ranks. Though the old man had never come out and told the Order this information, that had been the only explanation as to how they had received notice about almost everything Voldemort was doing or planning on doing.
But who was the spy?
It would have to be someone Dumbledore trusts, obviously. Somebody close to Dumbledore during the first war and after.
Remus started to think through all the Order of the Phoenix members, guessing who it could be. But none of them seemed the type to get the Dark Mark branded on their arm and go Muggle hunting.
Remus snorted to himself bitterly. Peter didn't seem the type either—the complete opposite actually—but look what he had done...
More questions... more dead ends... What was going on?
Before his thoughts could continue, Sirius called from the sky, "Come on, Moony! Grab your broom and get your arse up here!"
Remus laughed as Harry flew past Sirius so fast that Sirius nearly fell off his broom.
The three of them flew for a few more hours and had started a small, simple Quidditch game. Remus was Keeper once more, Sirius was Chaser, and Harry had wanted to play Seeker. The game had not been going for more than fifteen minutes when Remus and Sirius heard Harry's triumphant yell.
"I got it! I got it, look!"
Sirius and Remus looked over at Harry. He was clutching a fluttering golden snitch in his small hand.
"Great job, Harry!" Sirius said, hugging Harry in the air before they began to descend to the ground.
They walked into the house just as Dumbledore Flooed in. He wiped the soot off of his purple robes, stood up straight, and smiled at the family that had just walked in the door. "Ah, I see you are getting good use of those marvelous brooms!"
Sirius smiled as he shook Dumbledore's hand. "We are, sir. Harry's just taught us a lesson at capturing a snitch. Only took him fifteen minutes."
Harry smiled shyly next to Sirius as his hand moved its way to ruffle his already untidy hair.
Remus groaned and smiled reminiscently. "Oh, no, Sirius, we've got another one!"
Sirius laughed. Harry slowly dropped his hand. "What?" he asked obliviously.
"Nothing, Harry." Remus snickered as he took the brooms back to the hallway closet.
"Are you staying for dinner, Albus?" Sirius asked.
"I would be most delighted, Sirius. Thank you."
Sirius smiled and nodded, heading into the kitchen to make something—hopefully eatable—for the four of them to eat. Remus offered Dumbledore a cup of tea and sat on the sofa next to Harry. He listened as Dumbledore recalled his own Quidditch days and how much had changed to Harry.
Half an hour later—and with only one or two curses from Sirius—dinner was set on the table. They all took a seat and filled their plates with chicken, potatoes, and vegetables.
"This looks wonderful, Sirius. I did not know you were such a cook," Dumbledore commented with a chuckle.
"Thank you, sir. I never realized how hard cooking was. Good thing I've got a wand." He waved his wand to emphasize his point.
"Yes, very good thing," Remus said sarcastically with a smile.
Sirius threw a dinner roll at him.
Some hours later, after Harry had been bathed and put to bed, Sirius, Remus, and Dumbledore sat at the kitchen table in tense silence. Dumbledore explained the occurrences of the day to Sirius—from the prophecy and its full meaning, to Harry's nightmare. By the end, Sirius was just as pale and shaken as Remus had been. James had neglected to mention Harry would have to face Voldemort in a final battle.
"What does it all mean, sir?" Remus voiced his earlier thoughts quietly.
"As I have explained, the mark upon Harry's forehead is no ordinary scar. What I witnessed in Harry's eyes this afternoon leads me to believe that Voldemort forged a connection with Harry the night he attempted to kill him. This connection could have resulted in many things: Voldemort's feelings—Harry could feel when Voldemort is happy or angry—even what Voldemort is doing at any particular moment. I think this is what happened today. Harry fell asleep in my office and he witnessed Voldemort and his Death Eaters meeting."
Sirius stared at Dumbledore with an emotion of disbelief and... fear? "So you think Voldemort's back? Or coming back?"
"I do not believe Voldemort has yet returned to full power; I would have known before, had this been the case," Dumbledore said mysteriously. "He may be gaining strength as we speak, however."
Sirius closed his eyes and shook his head. It was all a nightmare returning. Something he, along with the rest of the wizarding world, had hoped and prayed would disappear for ten years could possibly be back. But Dumbledore wouldn't have mentioned anything about Voldemort returning if he did not strongly believe it beforehand. Another war could be on its way. More deaths, more torturing... more darkness...
"How long would it take for Voldemort to regain his powers?" Remus asked.
"I do not know," Dumbledore replied. "There is really no way for anybody to know. He would first have to regain his own body. This could be weeks, months, or years down the line."
"And what can we do? Other than twiddle our thumbs and wait for Dark Marks to appear?" Sirius asked.
Remus glared at him.
"Be on your guard for anything out of the ordinary. Be careful who you trust," Dumbledore said gravely.
Not long after, Dumbledore went back to Hogwarts, leaving Sirius and Remus at the kitchen table—both in numb shock.
"This can't be happening again," Sirius said, mostly to himself.
Remus nodded, not knowing what—if anything—he was nodding to.
If a second war was on its way, both wizards knew what it would mean: Harry, the light of their lives, would be in grave danger. Any normalcy the three of them had acquired in the past month and a half would be gone.
Sirius arrived at Auror Headquarters the next morning to find the offices in chaos. Moody was surrounded by a crowd of people not only from the law enforcement department, but from other departments as well. Shacklebolt spotted Sirius from within the crowd and moved quickly towards him.
"What's going on?" Sirius asked the bald wizard, bewildered.
Shacklebolt sighed heavily. "You're not going to believe this..."
"Shacklebolt, Black! Get over here!" Moody called, dislodging himself from the crowd.
The two Aurors met their boss half way. "The two of you are to head over to the site, investigate, and do not speak to reporters; I'll do that later. When you've finished, report back here immediately."
Shacklebolt nodded, as did Sirius, though he had no idea what was happening, and Moody handed them a preset portkey. Three seconds later, Sirius felt a tug at his navel as he left the Ministry; for what, he had no idea.
Sirius and Shacklebolt hit the ground hard in what was obviously a Muggle neighborhood. After an instant, Sirius recognized it. His eyes moved instinctively to Number Four, Privet Drive and saw something that nearly made him faint.
In the morning sunlight, a faint green skull floated above the house with a snake hanging out of its mouth.
The Dark Mark.
"No bloody way…" Sirius muttered. "This isn't happening…"
"Come on," Shacklebolt said gravely. He was just as horrified at the site as Sirius was, but they had a job to do.
They bypassed the reporters from the Daily Prophet, ducked under the yellow Ministry caution tape, and walked through the front door of Number Four.
The first thing that caught Sirius' eye inside the house was the fact that it was no longer spotless and immaculate. A flower vase lay broken on the floor just inside the door, dirt and what could only have been blood was smeared on the floor. Pictures were knocked off the walls and lay broken all over the place. The door to the cupboard Harry had been forced to sleep in was knocked clear off its hinges, shattered into splinters.
Somebody must have tried to hide in there, Sirius thought.
"Oh my god..." Sirius muttered, looking around the house.
"What? You know these people or something?" Shacklebolt asked.
"Only in passing. This is Lily's sister's house. Harry was here before Remus and I took him."
Another Auror spotted the two of them from across the room, excused himself from who he was talking to, and came over.
"What do we got, Richards?" Shacklebolt asked, business-like.
Richards was clearly shaken. "Well, you saw the Dark Mark, of course." The other two nodded. "Killing Curse on the husband," he pointed to a large shape covered in a white sheet in the living room, "Cruciatus on the wife, she died at St Mungo's. Word just came about that. Their son was at a friend's house. He's with an aunt now." He paused, looking around to make sure no one was listening in. "And, uh, whoever did it, left us a little message."
Richards motioned for Sirius and Shacklebolt to follow him. They went into the kitchen and Richards pointed out the wall on their left.
There, written in what Sirius believed to be blood, were fourteen words that made Sirius' blood freeze in his veins:
The Dark Lord Will Rise Again
The Boy-Who-Lived Will Live No Longer