The days that followed were filled with a thousand and one medical tests, an abundance of healing potions, and lots of sleep. He was strong and healthy again. But he was restless, too many days of doing nothing. It was time to get back in the game.
He found himself at Hogwarts, with many other Azkaban escapees assembled around a very large round table. He wasn't the only one anxious to help in the war. Looking around the table, he saw many of his old schoolmates. Dean Thomas, Terry Boot, Penelope Clearwater, and Lee Jordan were a few he recognized.
They were only in their early twenties, yet they looked much older. He would admit that even he looked older than his twenty-one years. But Azkaban tended to age people beyond their years.
During the months he had been locked away, the fighting had become much more intense. He was personally more partial to gathering information and espionage, but if the Death Eaters wanted a head-on fight, he would give them one. Professor Dumbledore led the conversation, bringing everyone up to date on the status of the war.
The Dark Lord's forces and the Ministry's were neck and neck; both sides had taken some heavy beatings. But it seemed with the recent Azkaban takeover, the tides were turning in their favor.
The meeting adjourns, but many of the others linger. They wish to speak with Professor Dumbledore; ask who they should report to, where their talents are needed most, etc. He didn't need the Headmaster to assign him where to go.
He usually worked alone, gathering information from the fringe of the wizarding world. He stood, collecting his things to leave. He needed to get started right away, reestablish his old contacts and informants.
He had always been like that. He preferred functioning behind the curtain, where no one knew what really goes on. No one even knew that he was responsible for the Breakout of Azkaban. He liked it that way. He liked blending in with the crowd; it kept his life private. And that suited him.
He was almost out the door when he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He turned around and found Professor Dumbledore was the one delaying his departure. He was confused, and it must have shown on his face.
"I need to speak with you, privately," Professor Dumbledore whispered in his ear. He nodded his consent. "Meet me in my office, the password is licorice spiders," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at him. "I trust you know the way?"
"Of course, Headmaster," he replied and Professor Dumbledore went back to the table to talk more with many lingering wizards and witches. He turned and then made his way up to the Headmaster's office.