Again later than I'd hoped, but here's the new update!
January 1996.
"The Headmaster has sent me to tell you, Potter, that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term."
The last few days of December and of the year 1995 were filled with madness, silly pranks, delicious dinners courtesy of Molly Weasley and a sentimental feeling of happiness because they all liked each other so much. Given those wonderful days, it wasn't that surprising that, after Christmas had passed and 1996 had begun, everybody fell in the black hole also known as January.
It hit Sirius worse than others. Having been locked up in number 12 Grimmauld place had made him more prone to be depressed anyway. But somehow, he had managed to forget that in the days between Christmas and new year, and he had even almost managed to convince himself that it was going to last forever. But after they had woken up from their champagne-hangover on January the first, the children's return to Hogwarts was suddenly only slightly over a week away instead of the safely distant 'next year'. Sirius took to locking himself up in Buckbeak's room, claiming that the animal needed the company after having been neglected for so long. In truth, it was an almost unconscious attempt to make the inevitable parting less painful than it would have been had he spend a lot of time with Harry.
Remus wasn't there to help him. Apart from his normal work for the Order of the Phoenix, he spend most of his time in the 'Dangerous' Dai Llewllyn ward in St Mungo's, convincing Edward, recently bitten by a werewolf, that Lycantropy wasn't the end of the world. One might even say that it opened a completely new one.
Edward was more than willing to learn how to cope with his new life. For him, it was immensely reassuring to hear that being a werewolf wasn't as bad as people made it out to be, that the so-called unbearable life were actually just a few inconvenient things, like an allergy for silver, more body-hair and a better sense of smell, sight and hear (which could be a blessing or a curse, depending on the situation). Remus made him realise that werewolves weren't monsters who murdered and ate people for fun. Instead, they were normal, did normal things and looked like normal people – like himself. The problem was the immense prejudice 'normal' witches and wizards had against werewolves. No matter how nice, social and well-adjusted they were, the rest of the world would always see them as the bad guys, using them as a bogeyman to scare little children. Every time Edward became depressed at the thought of how people would think of him now, Remus repeated what had almost become a mantra: other people make more of a fuss about it than it really is. That, compared with Remus' own cheerful, no-nonsense attitude, never failed to raise Edward' spirits again.
It helped a lot, though, that his prospects were quite a lot better than Remus'. He had a steady income, for one thing: he had a store in a small town in Herefordshire, which sold stationary and magazines both to Muggles and the few wizards living nearby. Remus advised him to get an account at a Muggle bank and advertise more towards the Muggles, since they wouldn't be prejudiced against a species they didn't even believe existed. It was a good way to avoid the restrictive laws on the maximum income for werewolves, and it was never specifically stated as being illegal. The thing that couldn't be helped with resorting to Muggle methods was finding a girlfriend or wife ("or 'mate', as some like to call it," sneered Remus) – even a Muggle would notice it when you turned into a man-eating wolf every month. "But," as Remus had said, "you can't expect life as a werewolf to be all sunshine and roses," which had made Edward smile again.
All in all, Remus had had worse encounters with werewolves, and as he said goodbye to Edward when the man was released from St Mungo's, a week after Christmas, he was pretty confident that things were going to be alright, that Edward would be able to take care of himself and live a normal life – even if it was with added 'monthly problems'.
Large as number 12 Grimmauld Place's kitchen might be, fitting the entire Order of the Phoenix in there was quite a challenge. For every meeting, the table was pulled towards the wall and at least a dozen extra chairs had to be conjured to seat everybody. If everybody was present, it gave a feeling of sitting in a train or bus during rush hour.
Remus was sitting in the far back, as far away from the chatter and noise as possible. Sirius was sitting next to him, constantly balancing his chair on the two rear legs and then falling back again with a bang. Even though it annoyed Remus, he didn't say anything – Sirius was having one of his 'fits' again, as Molly called them, and he was very easy to anger during one of those. Sometimes, the too well-read, pseudo-psychologist part of Remus' brain wondered whether Sirius was perhaps being maniacally depressed, but he didn't dare suggest it, fearing he'd make his friend lash out at him. Remus tried to calm his worries by telling himself that Sirius was having a hard enough time as it was anyway without him adding more critique.
Sirius only stopped his rocking when Dumbledore got to his feet and opened the meeting, smiling benignly at the people in front of him, the perpetual twinkling in his eyes. Sirius didn't return the smile; instead, he frowned, never taking his eyes off Dumbledore as if he was dissatisfied about something and about to voice it too. Remus observed it worriedly.
Sirius didn't speak up until almost at the end. Molly had just told them all that Arthur was doing fine and that the Healers thought he would be able to leave St Mungo's in a few days. After everybody had voiced their happiness about this, Dumbledore asked them if anybody had something to say, and if not, he considered the meeting closed.
"I'd like to say something," said Sirius loudly, getting to his feet. People turned around to look at him. Dumbledore gave him a quizzical look.
"What is it?" he asked.
"You know, we've talked about Arthur," Sirius said forced-casually, "and about recruiting new people, and what Voldemort's up to, but I haven't heard anything about Harry yet."
"What do you mean?" said Dumbledore calmly.
Sirius had put his hands on the backrest of Hestia Jones' chair, who had been sitting in front of him. Hestia herself had scooted to the edge of her seat, as far away from Sirius as possible – he looked rather threatening with his eyes fixed on Dumbledore, and his gaunt, post-Azkaban look only added to it. "What I mean," he said. "Well, to put it politely, I don't care fuck-all squared in a box about how many people Voldemort's killed this week or whatever. What I want to know is whether he's planning on possessing my Godson again and whether there are any plans to prevent this!" His voice got louder and more urgent as he talked.
Silence followed his words. The eyes of the crowd shot from Sirius to Dumbledore, curious as to what their leader was going to say.
"I understand your concern," Dumbledore said, still calm and composed. "I'm working on it."
"Oh, that's great," Sirius said sarcastically. "Absolutely fantastic. That'll make us all sleep better, knowing that we don't need to worry about anything since you'll take care of everything. In fact, we don't even need to think since you'll be taking care of that too!" He spread his arms dramatically. "In fact, why are we even here? What use is there, since you're deciding everything we do! This isn't a meeting, it's a reporting session, where we meekly tell our Great Leader what we've done. The real decision aren't made by us, of course, we're only here to follow orders, to do as we're told." He put his hands back on Hestia's chair. "Perhaps you hadn't realised, but we're persons, not your henchmen whom you can make to do as you please."
"Of course I'm aware of that," Dumbledore cut in, for the first time showing a hint of annoyance. "The reason I'm not confiding everything to you, Sirius, is that secret plans have a way of reaching ears that should not be hearing those plans. I said I was working on it. I do not decide everything by myself, and I certainly don't plan on becoming a dictator. That would lower me to the level of Lord Voldemort himself, and I for one don't want to stoop that low." He fixed Sirius' with his look. "Understood?"
Sirius tried to look back steadily, but found himself looking away after a few moments. "Good, as long as we got that clear," he told Dumbledore's beard.
"Good."
Sirius caught Snape's eye. The Potions Master was watching him with a superior smirk on his face, and it was as if he told him, jeering: Dumbledore tells me what he's up to… Sirius almost opened his mouth to voice his suspicion, but controlled the urge, telling himself that it was just that: a suspicion. But he had to force himself to look away, lest he jump forward and wipe that smug look off Snape's face.
The urge to do something painful to Snape returned tenfold a few days later, on the Saturday before the children returned to Hogwarts, and this time he was on the brink of actually doing it.
The day began peaceful enough. Sirius had left Buckbeak's room in search of a cup of tea and maybe something to eat, which he found in the kitchen. Molly told him that the children were upstairs in Harry' and Ron's room, which suited Sirius just fine – surely Harry wouldn't want to spend the last day of his Christmas holidays with his sulking Godfather. Instead, Sirius talked with Molly, and even managed some small-talk and light conversation. Molly was in a good mood: Arthur would come home today, the Healers said he was completely cured. She was going to pick him up later.
She was just putting on her cloak when they heard the front door open and close softly.
"Are you expecting somebody?" she asked.
"No, not really. Must be somebody from the Order though. Maybe Remus's come home early." He'd certainly welcome that.
It wasn't Remus, unless Remus had developed a twisted sense of humour and taken Polyjuice potion that made him look like Snape.
"What are you doing here?" Sirius snarled.
"Trust me Black, I'd rather be somewhere else as well," Snape sneered back. As usual, he was completely clad in black, down to his gloves, which he was now pulling off his hands finger-by-finger in a rather threatening way. A bit of a shame of what looked like new and rather expensive gloves. "I'm here to speak to Potter."
"I'll get him," Molly said quickly, eager to escape them both. The kitchen, which moments before had been peaceful, was now filled with a hateful tension.
"Tell him I don't have much time," he said to her. He sat down opposite Sirius.
"Why do you want to talk to Harry?" Sirius said, his eyes narrowed.
Snape didn't answer. Instead, he took an envelope from his pocket and shoved it across the table, refusing to hand it to Sirius. Sirius took the envelope, tore the seal and took a piece of parchment from it. He frowned when he recognised Dumbledore's handwriting and even more so when he read what the Headmaster had to say. So much for telling plans: although he did apologise for pretty much giving orders, Dumbledore told him that he had decided that Harry was to learn Occlumency, starting coming Monday.
He looked up. "Do you know of this?" he asked, holding out the letter towards Snape. The other man smirked.
"Of course I do."
Harry entered the kitchen, making it impossible for Sirius to crumble the letter and stuff it in Snape's mouth or nose. But he wanted to, so much…
Harry eyed Snape with apprehension, which Sirius thought was completely justified.
"Er…" he said.
Snape looked around, the hateful smirk back on his face. "Sit down, Potter," he said.
"You know," said Sirius loudly to the ceiling, leaning back on his rear chair legs in a way he knew annoyed others so much, especially Remus. "I think I'd prefer it if you didn't give orders here, Snape. It's my house, you see." He couldn't see Snape's reaction to this, but he imagined the man to give him a foul look. He wasn't far off.
Harry sat down next to Sirius, still not saying anything but looking at Snape with a mixture of apprehension, curiosity and fear.
"I was supposed to see you alone, Potter," said Snape, the familiar sneer curling his mouth, "but Black –"
"I'm his godfather," said Sirius, still to the ceiling.
"I am here on Dumbledore's orders," said Snape in return. In reaction to Sirius' voice, which was getting louder and louder, Snape's voice was getting softer and silkier. "But by all means stay, Black, I know you like to feel… involved."
"What's that supposed to mean?" said Sirius, finally looking at Snape. He let his chair fall back with a bang. Snape smirked, in control again.
"Merely that I am sure you must feel – ah – frustrated by the fact that you can do nothing
useful," he said, "for the Order." His lip curled in a triumphant smile as Sirius shot a glare at him – he had hit him at the right spot. Having succeeded at that, he turned to Harry. "The Headmaster has sent me to tell you, Potter, that it is his wish for you to study Occlumency this term," he announced.
"Study what?" said Harry blankly.
Snape smirk broadened slightly as if he had expected and was welcoming this opportunity to show his superiority. "Occlumency, Potter," he said. "The magical defence of the mind against external penetration. An obscure branch of magic, but a highly useful one."
Harry looked quickly from his Potions Master to his Godfather. "Why do I have to study Occlu— thing?" he asked.
"Because the Headmaster thinks it a good idea," said Snape, giving Sirius a look as though he wanted to add: unlike some people. "You will receive private lessons once a week, but you will not tell anybody what you are doing, least of all Dolores Umbridge. You understand?"
"Yes," said Harry. "Who's going to be teaching me?"
Snape raised an eyebrow as if this was an impertinent question. "I am," he said.
This time, the look Sirius received from Harry was a definite panicked one. Sirius couldn't say he blamed the boy; it was a nasty surprise for him too.
"Why can't Dumbledore teach Harry?" he said aggressively. "Why you?"
"I suppose because it is a headmaster's privilege to delegate less enjoyable tasks," said Snape coolly. "I assure you I did not beg for the job." He got to his feet, considering the conversation over. "I will expect you at six o'clock on Monday evening, Potter. My office. If anybody asks, you are taking remedial Potions. Nobody who has seen you in my classes could deny you need them." He smirked at Harry, revelling in the opportunity to insult Harry. he turned to leave, but Sirius stopped him.
"Wait a moment," he said, sitting up straighter. Although he barely realised it, he mentally reminded himself that his wand was in his pocket, so easy to reach…
Snape turned around again to face Sirius. "I am in rather a hurry, Black," he sneered. "Unlike you, I do not have unlimited leisure time."
"I'll get to the point, then," said Sirius. He got up as well, looming over Snape, who had always been smaller and scrawnier, just like twenty years ago, when he and James had the Slytherin cornered, were jeering insults at him, when Snape had his eyes narrowed and his wand clutched in his hand, ready to throw a curse at them, just like now. "If I hear you're using these Occlumency lessons to give Harry a hard time," Sirius threatened, "you'll have me to answer to."
"How touching," Snape sneered. "But surely you have noticed that Potter is very like his father?"
"Yes, I have," said Sirius, allowing himself a proud smile. If Snape had meant to insult Harry, it didn't work: having a resemblance to James was one of the biggest compliments one could pay him, in Sirius' opinion.
"Well then, you'll know he's so arrogant that criticism simply bounces off him," Snape continued sleekly. He smirked – he knew he had the upper hand in this, finally.
That did it, that smirk, the realisation that this wasn't like twenty years ago. Then, Sirius had been the one who laughed, who sneered and insulted while Snape was left in a defensive position. The position Sirius was now in. It infuriated him.
With one aggressive jerk, he pushed his chair out of his way, ignoring it as it clattered onto the floor. He stormed towards Snape, pulling his wand out of his pocket. Snape knew the signs, having seen them for years, and had his own ready.
Sirius held his wand close to Snape's face, threatening. Snape's eyes, narrowed in revulsion, darted from Sirius' face to the tip of his wand, but unlike years ago, there was no real fear in them.
"I've warned you, Snivellus," Sirius hissed, not even noticing he used the old nickname, "I don't care if Dumbledore thinks you've reformed, I know better –"
"Oh, but why don't you tell him so?" whispered Snape. "Or are you afraid he might not take very seriously the advice of a man who has been hiding inside his mother's house for six months?"
"Tell me, how is Lucius Malfoy these days?" Sirius immediately hit back. "I expect he's delighted his lapdog's working at Hogwarts, isn't he?"
"Speaking of dogs," Snape had his answer ready, "did you know that Lucius Malfoy recognised you last time you risked a little jaunt outside? Clever idea, Black, getting yourself seen on a safe station platform…" he paused for a moment, ready for the kicker. "Gave you a cast-iron excuse not to leave your hidey-hole in future, didn't it?" Again that infuriating smile.
Sirius let out an angry roar and the hand holding his wand jerked towards Snape's face. He would have cursed the man into oblivion, but Harry interfered.
"NO!" he yelled, trying to get between them, to restrain them. "Sirius, don't!"
"Are you calling me a coward?" roared Sirius over Harry's head, still looking at the hated man opposite him.
"Why, yes, I suppose I am," said Snape mock-innocently as though he had just realised it himself. Harry was still trying to get Sirius to move back.
"Harry – get – out – of – it!" snarled Sirius, reaching out and pushing his Godson aside with his free hand. He wanted to kill Snape, he had been wanting it for such a long time and now was his chance –
But the kitchen door opened and the Weasleys walked in. They were all smiling broadly. Arthur stood in their midst, and he had just announced happily that he was completely cured when they all realised exactly what they were looking at. They froze.
"Merlin's beard," Arthur said, looking stunned. "What's going on here?"
Sirius and Snape both abruptly lowered their wands. Neither of them wanted to do something with so many witnesses, but the hatred was not forgotten. The looks they shot one another said as much.
Snape pocketed his wand and quickly walked towards the door. On the doorstep, he turned around: "Six o'clock, Monday evening, Potter." With that, he turned and left, leaving a very angry and frustrated Sirius to deal with the Weasleys.
"What's been going on?" Arthur repeated.
"Nothing, Arthur," said Sirius, forcing himself to get calm. "Just a friendly little chat between two old school friends." I'll be damned before I call him my friend. He told his mouth to smile. "So… you're cured? That's great news, really great."
"Yes, isn't it?" Molly seemed to have decided to ignore what had just happened. She lead her husband to a chair. "Healer Smethwyck worked his magic in the end, found an antidote to whatever that snake's got in its fangs, and Arthur's learned his lesson about dabbling in Muggle medicine, haven't you, dear?" she added sternly.
"Yes, Molly, dear," Arthur said meekly.
Sirius faked a laugh, just like he spend the rest of the afternoon and evening faking to be cheerful. But he couldn't forget Snape's face, nor his sneers, the snide remarks that Sirius had no use, that all he did was sit around and be a burden for the others. Even the stories from Mundungus Fletcher about his antics (which where cut short by Molly) couldn't lift his spirits. It was only when Kingsley Shacklebolt popped in for five minutes when he saw a ray of hope. When the Auror left again, he quickly followed him into the hall.
"Kingsley, wait."
Kingsley turned around. "What is it?" he asked softly.
"My possessions are stored at the Ministry, aren't they?" Sirius asked, coming directly to the point.
"Yes," Kingsley said simply.
"Listen, I want you to get me something…"
Tonks gave it to him the next day. "Kingsley asked me to give this to you," she gave as an explanation. She handed him a package the size of a small book, wrapped in brown paper. Sirius tore the paper off with his back towards Molly and Remus – he didn't want any comments. The package contained exactly what he had expected: the two-way mirror he and James had used back in their schooldays.
"Is that what you wanted?" Tonks asked.
"Yes, it's perfect." Sirius took one of the mirrors and pocketed it. With his back still to the others, he quickly took a pen from his pockets and scribbled a quick note on the back of the other mirror, explaining what it was and how it could be used. After that, he quickly wrapped it in the brown paper again. Just in time.
"Sirius, don't you want something to eat?" Remus asked. He had got to his feet, a worried frown on his face, trying to see what Sirius was up to.
"Yes, of course, who could resist Molly's breakfasts?" Sirius said, acting cheerfully. Molly smiled at the compliment he paid to her, lading his plate full with bacon and scrambled egg.
"Oh, I forgot to ask," Molly said as they had all sat down. "What did Snape have to tell Harry, yesterday?"
Remus looked up from his plate. "Snape was here yesterday?"
"Don't worry," said Sirius gruffly, "I kept him alive."
"Good thing too," Remus smiled. "I reckon a dead Snape will leave a terrible mess. All that grease…" This made Sirius look up in surprise. He had expected Remus to lecture him, not to joke about it.
"Of course. And I didn't want people to slip constantly, so I kept him alive and reasonably intact too," he joked.
"If only everybody was as selfless as you…" sighed Tonks, joining the conversation.
"Can we get back to the subject?" asked Molly irritably.
"Which was?"
"Snape," said Remus.
"And his greasiness," added Sirius.
"And what a mess it leaves," came Remus.
"And how one has to consider that when planning to kill him," Sirius had his answer ready.
"What Snape had to say to Harry!" cut Molly in.
"Oh right," said Sirius as though he had just remembered it. "He said that Dumbledore, in all his wisdom, had decided that Harry was to study Occlumency."
"What's that?" asked Tonks.
"A way to shield your mind, to keep others from getting inside so to speak," came Remus' immediate answer.
"Why doesn't it bother me that you know it, but was I ready to strangle Snape when he knew it?" wondered Sirius.
"Because you can't stand Snape knowing more than you do, but you're used to me spouting trivia and little bits of knowledge," said Remus wisely.
"Why does Dumbledore want Harry to study that?" Tonks returned to the subject at hand. "To prevent You-Know-Who from entering Harry's mind?"
"Of course," Sirius said. "Can't risk Voldemort getting in again and maybe even controlling him, sending him on a murderous killing spree or making him jump off the North Tower."
"That is not something to joke about, Sirius," Molly warned.
"Indeed." He shot her a foul look.
"Who'll be teaching Harry?" Remus asked.
"Snape," said Sirius, still glaring. "Harry, of course, is overjoyed and can't wait."
"Harry is lucky," Remus said. "Snape is an extremely good Occlumens – he'd have to be. If he wasn't, Voldemort would have killed him by now."
"But why wouldn't Dumbledore teach him?" Tonks asked. "I mean, if Snape can do it, I can't imagine Dumbledore not knowing how to do Occlumency."
"Snape said," Sirius sighed, "that Dumbledore, being the Headmaster, had the opportunity to give rotten jobs to other people. I don't know how to translate that to normal-people."
"If I were Dumbledore," came Arthur Weasley, "and I was suspecting my enemy of entering a boy's mind, I'd try and keep away from that boy in case that enemy does send that boy on – what was it – a murderous killing spree."
"So he's putting him in one room with Snape in case Harry goes on a murderous killing spree!" said Sirius. "See, now it all makes sense again."
Tonks was the only one who grinned.
"That doesn't sound too strange, actually," Remus said. "Not the murderous killing sprees, but that Dumbledore's afraid Voldemort's trying to control Harry, and avoids him because of that. I mean, if Voldemort – stop flinching Tonks, for Merlin's sake – can get into Harry's head, can he see through Harry's eyes as well? That would make a perfect spy."
Further discussion was cut off when the possibly-possessed boy and his friends entered the kitchen. Molly jumped up to make breakfast for them all, and pretty soon the kitchen was filled with the clatter of cutlery, people talking and Molly fussing about whether everybody had packed their socks.
Sirius took his opportunity when he saw Harry standing with his hands in his pockets, watching the people in front of him. He beckoned the boy closer.
"I want you to take this," he said when Harry came to stand next to him. He thrust the wrapped two-way mirror in Harry's hand.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"A way of letting me know if Snape's giving you a hard time," Sirius explained. "No, don't open it in here!" He nervously looked over his shoulder in case Molly was standing behind him, ready to reprimand him. "I doubt Molly would approve – but I want you to use it if you need me, all right?"
"OK," said Harry. He put the mirror in his inside pocket, then zipped his jacket shut.
"Let's go, then," said Sirius. He clapped Harry on the shoulder and smiled. This seemed to be a sign for all of them, because the others all followed the two of them upstairs into the hall.
Molly hugged Harry before the boy really knew what was happening. "Goodbye, Harry, take care." Arthur shook his hand, and asked him to look out for snakes, to which Harry shyly smiled.
"Right – yeah," he said. He turned to Sirius – but Sirius had expected this. Before his Godson could say anything to make this goodbye more painful, he took him into a kind of awkward, one-armed hug and said: "Look after yourself, Harry."
As if they had practised it, Remus then took Harry by the shoulder and gently pushed the boy outside. Sirius was the one who closed the door behind them, trying to etch that last look on his mind. He was going to have to do with it for several months.
Outside, Tonks was hurrying the children along. "Come on, the quicker we get on the bus the better," she said. She was disguised as an tall, elderly woman today, looking unnervingly like one of Remus' aunts. She made the children gather on the pavement. Remus took position on the kerb, then flung out his right hand.
BANG.
Only a moment later, a violently purple triple-decker bus appeared out of thin air. A lamppost hurriedly jumped out of the way, narrowly avoiding being run over.
A thin, pimply boy in a purple uniform, looking barely graduated from Hogwarts, got off the bus and began announcing that this was the Knight Bus –
"Yes, yes, we know, thank you," Tonks rudely interrupted. "On, on, get on –" She shooed the children on board, beginning with Harry.
"Ere – it's 'Arry –!" the purple-clad boy said.
"If you shout his name I will curse you into oblivion," Tonks threatened under her breath. The boy shut up.
Remus and Tonks quickly helped the others on board and hoisted the trunks on, then got on as well. Just like a Muggle bus, the Knight Bus had seats – but unlike a Muggle bus, the Knight Bus' seats were ordinary chairs, simply placed on the floor. Currently, about half of them were standing, the rest was lying on the floor, having toppled over from the abrupt stop. A few witches and wizards were getting up from the floor, muttering darkly – they had toppled over with the chair they had been sitting in.
"Looks like we'll have to split up," said Tonks, surveying the situation. 'Fred, George and Ginny, if you just take those seats at the back… Remus can stay with you."
Remus nodded and guided the three Weasleys to the back of the bus.
"Prepare yourself for a very rough ride," he said. Having learned from a previous ride on the Knight Bus, he carefully placed his chair next to one of the brass poles supporting the deck above him; in case of an abrupt stop, he would be able to hold onto that. At least, he hoped.
The twins didn't care about any of that – a rough ride was exactly what they were hoping for, so they deliberately set their chairs a little away from other objects. Ginny cleverly asked Remus to perform a sticking charm on her chair, which proved that women are smarter than men.
Off they went. The twins got exactly what they wanted – a very rough ride. Although Tonks had paid extra so they would be moved up the queue, there was one woman before them: a small woman who looked rather sick, so Remus could imagine why they let her off first. Especially when she vomited all over her chair, right above them.
"Eurgh," said Ginny, looking disgusted. Fred and George, however, looked decidedly interested and sorry they were sitting under the poor witch, not next to her.
The next stop was Hogsmeade. As soon as the sick witch had got off, the Knight Bus Apparated with a loud bang, and the snow-covered village of Hogsmeade appeared. It snowed heavily, and large flecks of snow hit the windows. The bus came to a halt right outside the gates of Hogwarts.
"Here we are," Remus said. "Time to get off."
"Pity," Fred said.
"Would've liked to stay on a bit longer," George agreed.
Alas, education beckoned, as did Remus for the boys to help him get the trunks off the bus. The others got down from the top deck and off the bus as well. They stood huddled together, shivering in the snow.
"You'll be safe once you're in the grounds," Tonks reassured them. She looked around carefully, checking if there wasn't anybody dangerous around. "Have a good term, OK?"
"Look after yourselves," Remus added. He shook hands with every one of them. He reached Harry last. Taking him aside a bit while the others said goodbye to Tonks, he said in an undertone: "and listen…Harry, I know you don't like Snape, but he is a superb Occlumens and we all – Sirius included – want you to learn to protect yourself, so work hard, all right?"
Harry looked up at him, green eyes bright in a face that was pale in the cold air. "Yeah, all right," he said, although it seemed with some difficulty. "See you, then."
Remus nodded and smiled reassuringly at him. "See you in a few months."
Tonks gave a last hug to Hermione and Ginny, then she and Remus helped the children on their way. They slowly walked towards the huge oak doors of Hogwarts, dragging their trunks in the snow. Tonks and Remus watched them until they were well on their way, then they got back on the Knight Bus again.
"Where d'you want to go?" the pimpled boy in the purple uniform said.
"London," Tonks said. "Ministry of Magic."
They sat themselves down, and the bus set off with a bang. In the short moment before they Apparated, Remus caught one glimpse of the children walking towards Hogwarts.
Good luck, Harry, he thought. Good, good luck.
Author's note.
Not exactly sure why Sirius suddenly burst out at Dumbledore - it just happened. As I was writing it, it sounded like a good idea, but I'm not so sure of it now... It's odd though - when I'm writing Remus, it really feels like I'm Remus, and Sirius is genuinely annoying me. But when I'm writing Sirius, REMUS is annoying me! Stupid motherly guy... wink But honestly, that one remark "don't you want to eat something?" really bugged me for some reason. Decided to keep it in though, since it ís in character for Remus to worry and for Sirius to be annoyed about it!