Consequences

By Neurotica

Five

Harry Potter was becoming annoyed.

Mrs. Weasley had just come into his room to retrieve the tray holding the remainder of his dinner. He'd tried to eat, but his stomach hadn't seemed to want to allow it at the present time—he'd stopped before he threw up what little he had already eaten.

But it hadn't been Mrs. Weasley taking the tray that had Harry annoyed, but the sympathetic looks she'd been sending him all evening. She looked to be on the verge of tears when Harry would inquire as to where Sirius had been. Even his friends wouldn't tell him the whereabouts of his godfather, but Harry knew that they knew.

When they'd come to see him before they'd gone to bed, they traded uncomfortable looks at the very mention of Sirius. None of them wanted to tell him anything, and Harry did not like not knowing—it was a trait he'd gained from his godfather.

So this was why, at half past midnight, a fortnight before the next full moon, Harry lay awake, glaring at the ceiling. He was still highly frustrated with Sirius for not telling him that something had happened to Remus. He'd had to find out from Ron, for crying out loud! Not that Harry was upset with Ron for letting him in on things, but he would have preferred Sirius being honest with him. But for some reason, his godfather was either not in the house or avoiding Harry altogether, and this was starting to worry him.

Ron's explanation of what had happened to Remus was vague, to say the least. It left Harry with horrifying images of rotting bodies—a lasting effect of the poison, he was sure. He lingered on the vision of Remus sitting before that fireplace. If he was seeing only people who'd died (a conclusion he'd come up with after seeing his parents), then that probably meant Remus was dead.

But no, that couldn't be possible. Sirius would have told him that. But Sirius hadn't told him something had gone wrong with Remus in the first place. Perhaps Sirius didn't think he could handle the news...?

Harry groaned aloud in frustration. Sirius never kept things from him unless he had a damn good reason. Harry knew that Sirius didn't like keeping him in the dark. Sirius and Remus had had arguments over what to tell Harry in the past—Harry'd heard them at it. If it had something to do with the Order of the Phoenix, Harry would understand the secrecy. But when it came to his guardians, he felt—no, he knew—he had a right to know what was going on.

Footsteps could be heard down the hall. Harry knew they weren't Sirius'; it was rare that Sirius stepped that lightly. The footsteps stopped outside his door. Must be Mrs. Weasley, Harry thought. Making sure I'm asleep, I'm sure.

The door creaked open and Harry closed his eyes, feigning sleep to avoid being given a lecture and a sleeping potion. Once the door had been closed softly again, Harry opened his eyes and decided to wait until morning. Then he'd demand answers.

Sirius sat grinning behind his desk in Auror Headquarters. He knew he shouldn't be this happy—there was still the mystery as to where Remus was and how Karkaroff had been close enough to his best friend to get a hair to use in a Polyjuice Potion (it had been decided by Dumbledore and Kingsley that a Polyjuice Potion had, indeed, been used).

Remus hadn't been found. That fact still worried Sirius to no end, but for the moment he could breathe easy knowing his friend—his brother—was still out there. Hope was not gone. The Death Eaters had obviously tried to make it seem like Remus had been killed, but they obviously hadn't realized how very perceptive Sirius Black just happened to be. If they hadn't been stupid enough to leave that necklace around Karkaroff's neck, Sirius would still believe he'd lost Remus. Voldemort would have succeeded in ruining the morale of the Order.

"Oh," Kingsley said tiredly. He hadn't slept in nearly three days; he'd had to make sure Sirius didn't do anything stupid, and it was taking its toll. He reached into his cloak and pulled out what looked to be a small brown pouch with a horrible stench surrounding it. "I'm burning this cloak, by the way. Damn smell won't go away..." The Auror placed the pouch on Sirius' desk, tapped it with his wand, and said, "Engorgio."

"Remus' bag," Sirius said instantly, opening the knapsack, unaffected by the stench of dungbombs inside—being a Marauder had its advantages.

Sirius dug through the bag, hoping it wasn't in there, hoping Remus'd had enough sense to take it out before he'd lost the bag. He removed all the other contents of the bag—changes of clothes folded neatly, flasks of the Wolfsbane Potion, a book, a small photo of Sirius and Harry... it wasn't there.

"Good on you, Moony," Sirius said quietly and proudly. He looked up to Dumbledore and Kingsley who were both staring at him with raised eyebrows. "Two-way mirror isn't here," he explained as if it would be obvious as to what he was talking about. When they continued to look at him strangely, he added, "James and I had them in school. That's how we used to talk when we were in separate detentions. I gave one to Remus before he left; the other is somewhere in Harry's room. We might be able to find him..."

Sirius mentally slapped himself for not thinking of that before. But, he reminded himself, a lot had been happening, and all he really had time for was stress and wondering how he'd get out of this mess.

Dumbledore's lips twitched. "Minerva was convinced she'd been hearing voices in her head all those years ago, you know, Sirius," he said thoughtfully.

Sirius grinned wider. "Well, what're we waiting for? Let's go search for that mirror!"

"Sirius. It's two in the morning. Harry's probably asleep. I want to be asleep. You and Dumbledore need to sleep..." Kingsley said with no real conviction. He wanted to find Remus, too, but someone had to be the voice of reason.

"Then go home and go to bed," Sirius said distractedly, repacking Remus' knapsack haphazardly. Without another word, he stood from his desk and left the office.

Kingsley tiredly turned to look at Dumbledore's amused face. "He's going to be the death of me, he is," the younger wizard said.

"Sirius is, if nothing else, determined. I have the feeling he will not rest until Remus is found," Dumbledore said. "You rest, Kingsley. I must return to Hogwarts and arrange bringing Severus back to the Ministry until another plan is formed."

"Bet he won't like that," Kingsley muttered, hiding a smile.

"He will not, but it will not do for anyone to realize he is missing."

"Right you are, sir. I think I'll just go take a nap at my desk. I've done it plenty of times. It's actually a very comfortable desk... I'll come back to Headquarters in a few hours."

"Rest well, Kingsley," Dumbledore said as the Auror left the office. The old Headmaster finally stood. It would be best if he spoke with Snape soon.

Harry's eyes snapped open as he sensed someone in his room. He lifted his head slightly and saw the blurred outline of Sirius bent over his Hogwarts trunk, searching furiously for something. Clumsily, Harry reached over and took his glasses from his bedside table. Once he could see properly, he sat up further. "Sirius?" he said.

Sirius started and looked over the lid of the trunk at his godson. "Where is it?" he asked hastily.

"Where's what?" Harry asked, his eyebrow rising.

"The bloody mirror! What'd you do with it?" Sirius stood for where he'd been kneeling before Harry's trunk and moved over to the wardrobe. He began to tear through Harry's clothes, muttering to himself.

Harry's other eyebrow rose as he watched his godfather destroy his room. After ten minutes of this, Sirius stopped his search and sat next to Harry looking relatively calmer than a few seconds before. At least his eyes weren't wide as saucers anymore.

"Why're you looking for the mirror at three in the morning?" Harry asked carefully.

"Remus has the other one," Sirius muttered. "He's not dead, Harry. He's got the mirror and we can find him. This can all end if we can just find the mirror."

To Harry, Sirius looked like he'd lost hope of... everything. He looked miserable... lost… confused... "Sirius, what happened to Remus?" Harry whispered.

Sirius gave him a look that made his heart sink. He began to explain everything he knew, from the poisoning to Kreacher to Kingsley finding Karkaroff's body under Polyjuice Potion. "...and I went through Remus' bag, and his mirror wasn't in there. And I know he took it; I packed it myself. So if we find it, we might be able to contact him, and..."

"Sirius," Harry said in order to stop his godfather's ramblings.

"Yeah?"

"I'll help you find the mirror."

"No," Sirius said firmly. "You're supposed to be resting. Look, I'm sorry for not telling you all this sooner, but Pomfrey told me if I stressed you out, she'd hex me into next year."

"But I feel—"

"Yes, yes, I know, you feel fine, but I'd rather you stay in bed feeling fine than me being in St. Mungo's after Pomfrey and Molly got a hold of me if I let you out of bed."

Sighing in defeat, Harry lay back against his pillows and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. "Last time I saw it was that day in the library when you called from the Ministry before my Occlumency lesson."

"The library?" Sirius repeated. "You're sure?"

"Yeah," Harry answered. "I thought I'd brought it back in here, but since your little search didn't find it, it must be in there."

Sirius nodded. "Okay," he said. "I'll check the library, then." He leaned over and kissed the side of Harry's head. "Get some sleep, kid. I'll let you know what's happening in the morning."

Sighing, Sirius stood and left the room, knowing Harry was staring after him. He ran a jerky hand through his hair. After all this was over, he'd need a long vacation. Unfortunately for him, he'd have to worry about Death Eaters following him to his vacation spot. Maybe he'd just keep Remus and Harry under constant surveillance until the war was over. Bloody hell, he was becoming Mad-Eye Moody. "Constant Vigilance!" He'd have to go back to work soon, what then? He needed to shave soon, too... Eating probably wouldn't be a bad idea, either. Maybe Kingsley was right and he really did need sleep—a lot of it, come to think of it. After he found the mirror, maybe he could go down to the kitchen and get some leftovers from dinner. Surely Molly'd saved him something. Butterbeer always went well with Molly's meals. He'd already drunk all of his firewhiskey, but he was pretty sure Remus kept some brandy around for emergencies... and this was an emergency.

Finally, he reached the library, putting a temporary halt on his jumbled thoughts. Standing in the doorway, he pointed his wand in the center of the room. "Accio two-way mirror," he muttered lazily.

For five minutes he waited. It'll come, he thought over and over. It has to come.

His mind didn't register the splintering crash on the floor above him. Nor did his mind register the sound of something soaring through the dark corridors behind him. His mind was set on the library and only the library. His eyes were wide as he tried to see anything in the darkened room.

Only when something hit him hard in the back of his head did he look away from the room. "Ow!" he cried, grasping his head and turning around. "Lumos." Next to his feet was the one thing that could get him his best friend back. He snatched up the old mirror and wiped the glass with the sleeve of his robe. He looked down the hall, trying to see where the mirror had come from. He vaguely thought about the attic and Kreacher, but found he didn't care that much at the moment.

"Moony," he said hoarsely into the mirror. He cleared his throat. "Remus Lupin," he tried again. He stared into the mirror for what felt like hours. He expected Remus' tired face to appear any moment and tell him to stop being such a girl. "Shut up, Padfoot, I'm fine," he'd say with a smile.

Sirius called for his brother until his voice felt raw. The only thing he could see was his own pale, exhausted face. Somehow, he'd moved over to the sofa. Feeling frustrated and deeply depressed (why wasn't Remus answering him? Remus always answered him!), he set the mirror on the coffee table and curled up on the sofa. Maybe Remus had lost the mirror. But then how would they find him? There were ways of tracing a wizard by their wand, but it did no good if the wizard's wand was in pieces on the kitchen table...

His eyelids felt like bludgers—a feeling he was unfortunately getting used to—but he needed to stay awake. He needed to figure out how he was going to find Remus...

"Hello?" said a quiet, hoarse, slightly muffled voice. "Is anyone there?"

He was dreaming. He had to be dreaming, and if that voice didn't stop messing with his head—

Voice?

Sirius' eyes snapped open and he sat up from where he'd somehow fallen to the floor. His hands fumbled over the coffee table until they hit the familiar edge of the two-way mirror. "Moony!" he said in a dazed, almost drunken voice. In his sleepy excitement, he nearly dropped the mirror three times before he could keep his hands steady enough to see the face in the mirror. It wasn't Remus... It was...

"Emmeline! What..." Sirius muttered. "Where are you?"

"Sirius!" Emmeline said in obvious relief. "Oh thank god! I don't really know where I am. Lost my wand... lost Remus... everything's gone... Death Eaters everywhere..."

"Are you okay?" Sirius asked, his mind finally starting to wake up, not really hearing what Emmeline was saying.

"Yeah... yeah, fine," she said.

"Is Remus with you?"

"No," she said. "We were separated, Sirius. I think the Death Eaters got to him..."

"Do you have any idea whatsoever where you might be?"

"I..." she began hopelessly. "I really don't know..."

"Stay where you are," Sirius said. "I'm going to contact Dumbledore and I'll get in touch with you soon. Keep the mirror close by, okay?"

Emmeline nodded. "Okay... just hurry, alright?"

"I will."

Sirius pushed himself from the floor and sprinted through the house, not caring that he was probably waking every being and portrait as he went. He tripped on the last stair, but grabbed the banister to keep from falling. He had to get to Dumbledore...