Really, the opening line hit me and just wouldn't go away. Forty-three pages later...
Many thanks to Moony's Girl and Rapunzel for the beta jobs. Hugs for you both!
2:
Sometimes there are visitors for the prisoners. They do not come all that often, mostly because visiting someone in the maximum security ward of Azkaban is a sure way to guarantee that the Ministry will develop a keen interest in your affairs. Unless, of course, you provide the correct people with proper incentive to ignore you.
Several months after her coming to Azkaban, Bellatrix Lestrange is paid a visit by her aunt. Curled up in the corner of his cell, Remus watches as the dark figure of Mrs Black talks with her niece. The vehemence that laces the words of the older woman send a chilling knife of fear right through his gut, and Remus is grateful that Sirius escaped his family home when he did. As soon as this thought crosses Remus' mind he shivers away from it. It is not good to think of Sirius. Sirius is a memory of happier times, and happy things always draw the interest of the dementors.
As it is, the dementors take particular pleasure in tormenting Remus. They recognize his inherently Dark nature and realize that, as a werewolf and a predator, Remus is above the parasitic status that they hold in the hierarchy of Dark creatures. That they have been given power over him thrills them, and they often journey to the far end of the corridor where Remus is kept, eager to feed off his happiness. Remus finds it amazing that he still has any pleasant memories left to him. A shadow falls across Remus' cell, and he glances up to see Mrs Black observing him from the door of his cell, her face tight with disgust.
Though he has only seen the woman twice before, both times on Platform 9 3/4 as he rushed to board the train to Hogwarts, Remus is surprised by how much the woman has changed since he last saw her. There is a madness in her eyes, and Remus thinks that the only reason she is able to come to Azkaban and bear the presence of the dementors is that she is already more than half-mad. He does not like her, does in fact hate her for the suffering she has caused Sirius, but since he is still Remus Lupin, since Azkaban can't take away his basic nature, he still pities her.
"Can I help you, madam?" He asks her because his craving for human contact surpasses the hatred he feels for her.
"A beast," she hisses viciously, her eyes dark and narrow. "He left his own flesh and blood for a handful of foolish Gryffindors and some... animal. You dared to steal my child like you can actually feel or think the same as humans do, like you're equal to us."
Remus shrinks away from her. Even though he knows that she's wrong, knows that the old bat has never loved Sirius as much as Remus does, that Sirius left his family of his own free will, her words still sting and hurt. He hates himself for still yearning the human contact that she gives him even as she degrades and berates him. A part of him reflects that she is just as effective as the dementors, if not more so.
Mrs Black's hatred suddenly changes to delight. Remus curls in on himself even more tightly, somehow the insane happiness dancing in her dark eyes and the wicked little smile on her face is worse than the filth she was spewing before. "Doesn't matter though," she says happily. "Wouldn't want him now anyway, he's broken beyond any repair. You broke him, wolf, with your silly little tricks." With a disturbed laugh she turns away from his cell, leaving Remus behind to contemplate her words in wretched solitude.
Some time after Mrs Black's visit, Crouch, the head of Ministry Department of Magical Law Enforcement and a man Remus remembers all too well, comes with his wife to visit their son, who is close to death after only two or so years in Azkaban. Remus can easily see young Barty's cell from his own, and has often thought it odd that a man should be in a so dark a place as Azkaban at so young an age. He doesn't feel any sympathy for Barty, however – the wolf inside Remus can smell the stink of Dark magics that surrounds the boy and knows that the boy is not wrongfully imprisoned.
While his wife visits with the son he has disowned, Crouch stalks down the hall to glare at Remus through the bars of his cell. Remus does not fear this man the way he did Sirius' mother. Though Crouch was the one to place him in Azkaban, the man has no more power over him. As Crouch himself informed Remus at his sentencing, Remus was saved from immediate execution by a very old law that excepts sentient magical beings from the death sentence usually attached to the crime of having harmed a human if said harm was performed in a "wizard- or Muggle-like fashion." While Remus is sure that the law has been repealed since his admittance to Azkaban, it continues to protect him as it was still on the books when he was sentenced. Leaning against the back wall of his cell, Remus returns Crouch's glare with a bored expression.
"You're still here?" says Crouch, and he practically spits the words out, the disgust is so thick in his voice. Remus knows that the man would have preferred to have killed him when Remus originally came under his scrutiny. It amuses Remus that Crouch is so obsessed with the rules that he allowed a near-defunct law to prevent him from carrying out the death of a werewolf that no one would miss.
"I'm still here," Remus replies in agreement. This conversation, he thinks, can't possibly become as bad the one he had with Mrs Black.
"You won't last much longer, Lupin," Crouch says as he wrinkles his nose at Remus' grungy appearance. "If the dementors don't kill you, the monster inside you will."
It occurs to Remus that he may have already begun to go mad, as Crouch's words causes him amusement, not terror as they should. "If I might remind you of your Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons, Mr Crouch," Remus says brightly, his voice cheerily false, "it is very, very, very hard to kill a werewolf. So, unless you happen to feel like giving me the trial I should have received two years ago, I'm likely to be here for quite a long time to come."
This earns Remus another poisonous glare from Crouch. "How is it the dementors don't affect you, Lupin?" he asks.
"I wouldn't say they have had no affect on me at all," Remus says, cocking his head to the side. "But I suppose that their impact may be somewhat lessened by the fact that I can hate someone quite strongly. Hate isn't exactly a happy feeling, it's not an entirely upsetting one either." Remus knows that this isn't the real reason he stays sane in this madhouse, but he gave up long ago trying to convince anyone of his innocence. No one ever believes that a Dark creature can be innocent anyway.
"Yes, well, Harry Potter is well out of your grasp. You'd do well to turn your hate elsewhere," Crouch snarls as he turns to collect his wife and leave.
Eyes bright with some unnamed emotion, Remus can't resist adding a single parting shot that he know will upset the man further. "Who said anything about Harry? I save my hate for only one person, and that's the man who put me in this hellhole."
Remus is so amused by Crouch's hurry to leave that he does not immediately notice that the scent of Barty Crouch, Jr. has lost the stench of Darkness. When he does at last notice the change, Remus remembers a small, dark-haired baby lying alone in a still house and wonders at the blind, saving love so many mothers have for their children.
A dementor mistakes Remus' wonder for happiness, and rushes over to steal it from him. Its eagerness attracts the attentions of other dementors, and soon there is a large group congregated around Remus' cell. The experience leaves Remus drained and his eyes dark with despair.
Trailing his hand on the wall, Sirius wanders down an empty corridor. He is following James and Peter as they run on ahead, eager to see what is in the mysterious unmarked room that appeared on their map earlier in the evening. Every now and then he glances sideways and grins at Remus. He is about to say something to his friend, when he walks into something solid and warm.
At first he cannot see what it is, cannot guess at its nature. It isn't on the map, what can it be? Then the map dissolves from his hands, and up ahead James and Peter vanish into the darkness. He desperately grabs at Remus, but the other boy is fading away like the Cheshire Cat, until only his brilliant amber eyes remain; then even they are gone. As the last wisps of the past leave him behind, Sirius returns to reality and he remembers everything. A sob breaks loose from his throat, and he buries his face in his hands.
"Oh, stop bawling like a baby, Black," sneers whatever he has walked into. Confused, Sirius looks up at the man in front of him.
"Sn... Snivellus?" he asks, and immediately regrets the use of the old taunt. At the moment, Sirius sounds rather snivelly himself.
"My, you've obviously grown out of petty, childish bullying," says Snape, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Sirius knows that he should be angry at Snape, furious even. But he can't seem to muster the hate that usually accompanies any run-in he has with Snape. "Sorry I walked into you again," he says instead, and moves to go around Snape.
Snape steps to the side and blocks Sirius' path. "Apology accepted," he says tritely, "though I half expected you to walk into me when I chose to stand in your way." Sirius stares at him, unable to comprehend what Snape is saying.
"Don't give me that look, Black," says Snape, his entire demeanor bordering on frustration. "I'm not doing this for you, I'm doing it for myself. I don't want to have Potter's damned brat foisted off on me again the next time that manipulative Gryffindor biddy decides to go on a shopping expedition."
"I... Harry." Sirius shakes his head and tries to think of the words he wants. It is hard – the pain, the loss keep intruding on his mind, preventing him from forming any rational thoughts. "Harry doesn't need someone like me," he says quietly. "McGonagall takes good care of him."
"Merlin preserve me from idiotic Gryffindors," sighs Snape. He rubs his temples as if to stem a rising headache. "Look, you apathetic imbecile, who knows why, but Potter chose you to act as the guardian of his spawn, not McGonagall. She's already the Deputy Headmistress of this school and the Transfigurations Mistress. She can't be keeping track of the boy simply because you would rather wallow in self-pity than face up to the fact that, yes, shit happens, but life goes on."
Sirius stares at Snape, dumbfounded by what Snape has said. "But I... They're dead. It's my fault; I messed up and now they're all dead," he tries to explain.
"Dammit, Black! Am I going to have to spell this out for you!" Snape snaps. "You had absolutely nothing to do with the deaths of your silly little Gryffindor friends – that was all Lupin and the Dark Lord. So stop making yourself out to be the tragic figure here; you're not the only one who lost something in the war. You have to learn to let it go like the rest of us." He storms past Sirius, toward the staircase that leads down to the dungeons.
Watching Snape as he passes, Sirius feels his mind fumble about, desperately trying to process what he had just been told. "Wait! Snape," says Sirius before the other man can disappear out of sight, "I'm sorry. I... well. You. How did you do it? Let it go?"
At the top of the steps, Snape pauses, his back still turned towards Sirius. "I never really did," he admits softly. "I just try to make up for the damage I've caused. It should be easier for you," he adds, "you didn't do anything." With this he vanishes down the staircase, a swoop of black robes, and then – nothing.
Sirius stares after Snape, after the man whom he spent almost every waking moment of seven years tormenting. He can't understand why Snape might be trying to help him. Despite what Snape has told Sirius, that he doesn't want to be stuck minding Harry again – and Sirius wonders about that, wonders why was Snape ever even looking after Harry in the first place – Sirius has a hard time believing it to be the truth.
Standing there in the empty corridor, it occurs to Sirius that he can't remember how long it has been since Voldemort died and the world went to hell. How long ago he howled on that first, awful full moon alone. After Sirius has managed to tuck away the broken, horrible memories that plague him, clearing it all away so that he can actually think again, he realizes that, no matter what Snape's intentions might have been, his words makes sense. Sirius needs to let go of the past, it won't do for him to spend the rest of his life living in memories. If nothing else, he has to show himself to be just as strong as Snape, strong enough to accept the bad but not allow himself to be controlled by it.
Reaching out, Sirius leans against the wall, hoping that it will provide some sort of grounding point. The rough stone of the wall is comforting, a reminder of happier times, and for a moment Sirius is sorely tempted to give this up and fall back into the dream state he has allowed himself to live in for who knows how long now. Only a moment, though, and then he takes a firm grip on his mind and gently tells it no.
First Sirius lets go of Lily, which is easy because he was never all that close to her anyway. Sure, she was the wife of his best friend, but she was never really all that fond of Sirius anyway, thinking him to be a bad influence on James. Sirius knows that it was only with a great amount of trepidation that Lily finally caved to Sirius being made Harry's godfather. Sirius is glad that she eventually did in the end, since he doesn't know how he would have managed to keep on living after that awful Hallowe'en if it he didn't have Harry. He lets go of all that is left of Lily in his mind. His memories of her are still there, but she no longer has a constant grip on him. As he allows her to move from his short term memory to the security of his long term, Sirius feels as if a weight has been lifted from him.
Next is Peter. Little Peter, who always tagged after Sirius and James, eager to please and to learn. Now that Peter is gone, Sirius regrets that he didn't treat his friend better when he could. Part of the reason that the memory of Peter has been such a burden to Sirius is that he can't help but remember all the times he teased and tormented Peter. Never as badly as he did Snape, but still more than he really should have. Sirius lets Peter go, and sighs happily by the relief this brings him. Though he knows that he treated Peter inappropriately in the past, Sirius now realizes that you can't change the past, no matter how much you want to. If nothing else, he knows to be more careful of how he treats his friends in the future.
Letting James go is one of the hardest for Sirius. James was the brother that Sirius wishes he'd had in Regulus, the brother that Sirius remembers having when he was younger, before he'd started drifting away from his family, the brother that he had toward the end, when Regulus had begun to drift away from them as well. When Sirius lets James go, he finds that he must let Regulus go at the same time, the two are so intertwined in Sirius' mind. Even when Regulus was a Death Eater and at the height of his acceptance of Voldemort's fanaticism, Sirius never stopped thinking of him as his little brother. He'd had James, who was just as close if not closer than Regulus, but it wasn't the same, not really. No one can ever replace a younger sibling. It hurts him, but Sirius lets both of them go.
Now he's come to the last and the hardest, the one that makes everything so much worse. Where James and Peter and Lily died while fighting for what was good and right, and Regulus while trying to escape from the hole he'd dug himself into, Remus is still alive. Remus never repented. That Remus had fought and plotted against them up to the very end makes the ache in Sirius' chest hurt so much more. Even now, Sirius knows that he won't be able to give up the love he feels for the man who destroyed his life. So he decides to not even try.
Sirius splits his memories of Remus in two. He files away the quiet friend he remembers from his school years, the boy with the age-old golden eyes. To this Sirius adds all the good memories he has of Remus, all his love. Padfoot's howls on those nights that the full moon shines down are for that Remus. Sirius doubts that he will ever stop mourning for the loss of the Remus of his childhood. He does not even allow himself to wonder whether the boy of his memories was ever actually what he appeared to be. In the shadows of that empty hallway, Sirius does his best to let go of the guilt he has felt for still loving Remus.
What he does not allow himself to let go of, what he clings to with both tooth and nail, is the hatred he feels for Remus Lupin. If Sirius ever gets the chance, he will be more than happy to kill the werewolf. Inside him, Padfoot aches to rip out the throat of the man who destroyed his pack.
A grim look on his face, Sirius walks back to McGonagall's apartments. His step is steady and his stride is sure. He is not the man he once was, the one which came before that fated All Soul's eve. Neither is he the broken shell of a man who, as a dog, howled at the moon more than a year ago. Sirius Black has mended himself; though there is some question as to whether he will ever again be completely whole.
One spring morning, Minerva walks into her sitting room to find a rather astonishing tableau. Harry is already up and dressed, black hair sticking out in every direction, still damp from his earlier bath. He is curled up on the sofa, eagerly looking at the pictures in the book that sits in Sirius' lap. Sirius himself has an arm around his godson and is quietly telling the boy a story that Minerva is sure has almost no relation to words in the book. For several minutes she can do nothing more than stand in the doorway, clutching at her dressing gown.
The story is finished (and the ending is most certainly not the one that Minerva recalls that book having), and Sirius sends Harry off to return the book back to his room. Sirius notices Minerva for the first time as he stands and stretches, and for a moment he goes pale. Then he smiles.
"I've been thinking," he says. "Harry hasn't left the castle since we first came here, has he? I should take him on a trip, go someplace where we can spend some time together before I go back to my auror training, maybe the continent...? It would get us out of you hair also – you can't have had much rest during your holidays either, what with having to look after both him and me."
Minerva stares at him, unsure of how to reply. Just yesterday Sirius was nearly a vegetable, going through all the motions of living without ever really going anywhere. Now the dull air of apathy that has hovered about him for the past two years has vanished and a spark of life burns brightly in his eyes. Sirius has returned to the world and is ready to resume moving forward on the long march of life. While she is happy for him, she can't help but be sad that her boys are leaving her behind. "I think that would be a lovely idea, Sirius," she says truthfully, trying hard not to let her voice crack as she says it. "Harry would love it, though he's likely to love spending time with you no matter where you are."
At that moment Harry comes running back into the room, socks on his feet and shoes clutched in his hands. "Aunt Min, Aunt Min! Sirius told me about how the hen made bread!" He barrels into her legs, then drops his shoes and grabs the end of her dressing gown. "Can you make bread, Aunt Min?"
Minerva laughs and swoops Harry up in her arms, twirling him around before she sets him down on the sofa so that she can put his shoes on. "No, I am sorry to say that I cannot bake, Harry." Sirius is watching her with the boy, a peculiar expression on his face.
"'Aunt Min'?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.
His response is not surprising; he probably hasn't noticed what Harry calls her before this, so Minerva huffs at him as she finishes putting on one of Harry's shoes and turns to the other one. "Well I couldn't very well make him call me Professor McGonagall now, could I? He's not yet three!" Finishing with Harry's shoes, she gives him a pat and tells him to play in his room until it is time for breakfast. Once the boy has left the room, Minerva turns to give Sirius her full attention. "You were not exactly in any shape to keep track of him at the time in any case, Sirius," she says quite pointedly.
Sirius winces and nods. "I... I'm sorry about that. I just sort of... dumped the two of us on you, didn't I? It was just... after James and Lily and Peter... and then Remus–" he chokes up on the name of the man who Minerva knows to be responsible for not only Peter Pettigrew's death, but the deaths of Harry's parents as well. When Albus first told her of Lupin's role as the Potters' Secret Keeper and the obvious implication (especially in light of his cold-blooded killing of not only little Pettigrew but all those poor Muggles as well) that he must have betrayed them to You-Know-Who, Minerva found it very hard to believe. She remembers the quiet child that Lupin was when at Hogwarts, a troublemaker but never anywhere near as bad as James Potter and Sirius himself.
Sighing, Minerva drags herself out of her thoughts and back to the present. "I understand," she says kindly, smiling slightly. "It was no trouble at all for me to look after the both of you."
"Are you sure? Because I–"
"Sirius!" Minerva says sharply, and Sirius falls silent, his eyes wide. "If either you or Harry had been any trouble for me at all, I would have simply made Albus see to you. Even at your worst you've pretty much looked after yourself. As for Harry, well. The boy's simply a joy to have around, he's such a bright little thing." She pauses as a thought occurs to her, one that's been niggling her since first finding Sirius reading to Harry this morning. "Why are you worrying about all this only now anyway?"
Sirius bites his lower lip and looks away nervously. "I... That is... last night Snape stopped me when I was out wandering and he said... Well, what he really said was that he didn't want to get stuck minding Harry again, but the implication was that I should start taking responsibility for Harry since he's my godson after all. Then he told me I had to learn to let go of the past, move on with my life." He rubs the back of his neck, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You know, I never realized that Snape could be so damned deep."
Ah, that explains it, Minerva thinks with a small smile. It seems her junior coworker deserves something beyond the usual fruit basket come Christmas time this year. "Severus has had traumas of his own with You-Know-Who," she says, watching Sirius carefully in order to gauge his reaction to her words. "It has been quite the uphill battle for him, as he has had to deal with the contempt of the rest of the world while managing his own feelings of self-hate at the same time."
Minerva sees a shadow fall across Sirius' face, and wonders whether she has driven the spike too deep into his still-fragile sanity. It is a nasty thing to do, forcing Sirius to see the pettiness of his own troubles when they are compared to those of Severus, but she feels that it is something that must be done. She does not want to have to deal with them brawling in the corridors if she can help it.
"He said," Sirius says hesitantly, obviously a bit unsure whether he should be repeating this, "that it should be easier for me, the letting go, I mean, because I didn't do anything." Sirius appears to be about to say more, but Harry pokes his head into the sitting room at that moment.
"Hungry!" he says in the demanding manner that only two-year-olds can manage, and Minerva realizes that not only is it nearly time to eat, but also that she has classes today and she's still in her dressing gown.
"Just a moment, love," she says to Harry over her shoulder. "Let me get dressed and then well go right down to the Hall. Feel free to join us at breakfast, Sirius. I'm sure it won't be too much trouble for the house elves to find an extra seat for you at the table."
Sirius stares at her, and she swears she can see the exact moment when he finally resolves something that's been swirling around in his eyes ever since she entered the room. "Haven't had a good Hogwarts' breakfast in a while," he says amiably as he allows her to help him up off the sofa. "And who knows, maybe Dumbledore'll have some suggestions."
It occurs to Minerva that somewhere in the course of things she's managed to lose track of what they're talking about. "Suggestions?" she says dumbly, and he gives her a dazzling smile.
"Suggestions as to where the three of us can go this summer," he answers. "Seems to me you could use a trip just as much as Harry and I could."
"Trip?" asks Harry. He's wandered out of his room and is standing in the doorway, staring at the both of them. "Where're we going?"
Sirius laughs and reaches over to ruffle the boy's hair. "Well now," he says happily, "I think that depends on what Professor McGonagall decides, doesn't it?"
Harry frowns up at his guardian and says, quite pointedly, "Aunt Min."
"What Min decides," Sirius says solemnly before turning to look straight at Minerva. "Minerva," he then adds, testing the name with his mouth, almost as if he isn't ready yet for the familiarity that is implied by the nickname that Harry employs.
Slipping into her room to get dressed, Minerva can't help but reflect that they make a rather mismatched group. Still, she can't keep the little smile off her face as she exchanges her dressing gown for a robe from her wardrobe. As odd as they are, she has seen stranger families during her many years of teaching. Wizards have never been ones for normalcy, after all.
Lying back in the grass, Sirius props himself up on his elbows to watch Harry toddle after the older children, natives to the village. As it turned out, Dumbledore had indeed had suggestions, or, rather, thinly-veiled commands, as to where the three of them could spend the summer months. The continent was apparently quite out of the question, as were any number of popular wizarding holiday spots suggested by McGona- Minerva, Sirius reminds himself, he is to call her Minerva now. None of those places would be safe environments to take Harry, not with numerous escaped Death Eaters still at large, to say nothing of other supporters of the fallen Voldemort. In the end, both Sirius and Minerva acceded to Dumbledore's 'suggested' holiday spot.
Which is why Sirius now finds himself lying in the park of a small Muggle village somewhere in Logres, or Cornwall, as the Muggles call it, with nothing much of anything to do except watch Harry run about in the fading sunlight of the early summer evening. Minerva's not far off, sitting in the shade of the trees, skirt tucked around her legs as she scribbles away in a Muggle journal. Sirius smiles to himself. Both he and Minerva initially had some problems adapting to life among Muggles, but they've been here for a month now and he thinks they're managing it quite well now. Minerva has, in fact, developed something of a fixation with ball-point pens. Not having to worry about the tip of her quill breaking or running out of ink is a novelty Minerva just can't quite get over.
It's strange, spending time with Minerva away from the school. Even stranger learning to think of her outside of her former role as his teacher and Head of House. While Harry quite obviously views the woman as something akin to a mother (despite his calling her "Aunt Min"), Sirius is not quite sure what to make of how she treats Harry and himself. He appreciates that she made the effort to look after the two of them at a time when he was incapable of doing so, but he can't figure out why she made the effort. After all, she never particularly approved of either him or James while they were still at the school – it was always Remus who was her special pet. Sirius' mind quickly skids away from thoughts of the werewolf.
Sirius knows that the old biddies of the village are equally curious about the three strangers and their large dog as both he and Minerva are of the Muggles. It's a small village, and the three of them have made something of an impression on it by staying in the Grey House, the former home of an old sea captain, a friend of Dumbledore's who died a few years back. When they'd finally agreed to stay in Trewissick, Dumbledore had contacted the current owner, a man only a few years younger than Sirius himself, to see about having them stay in the house during their time in the village. Most likely the house bears special wards, or something of that sort; Sirius has not yet bothered to check.
The locals are apparently a bit skeptical about anyone who stays at the Grey House. While waiting outside the grocer's for Minerva and Harry, Padfoot has overheard whispers that the current owner is a strange sort, nothing like the old Captain. Min chastises Sirius for using his Animagus form to spy on the Muggles, but he has the sneaking suspicion that she's really just as curious about their landlord as he is. The owner, a Mr Drew who Sirius has spoken to on the telephone but never formally met seems normal enough – but Sirius does find it a bit strange that he inherited the house after the captain was lost at sea, seeing as the two of them were both unrelated and also several decades apart in age. For now he keeps his reservations to himself, figuring he'll investigate if the man ever turns up.
It's also apparent that the biddies seem to think there's some sort of a scandal surrounding Sirius, if the gossip Padfoot hears is anything to go by. Sirius supposes that they find it strange that such a young man should not only have a child in his care but also travel in the company of a woman of Minerva's age (and really, how old is Minerva anyway? At least as old as his mother, though probably older). When Padfoot hears some of the more fantastical theories that the biddies come up with, he can't help but let out a low growl, which probably explains the other rumor making the rounds – specifically the one diagnosing him as a mad dog (which is just as silly as those other rumors – Padfoot hasn't ever even had fleas, let alone rabies). Will, the usual caretaker of the Grey House, instructs Sirius to ignore the gossip, telling him about his friends, the mysterious Mr Drew and his siblings. It seems the biddies have quite a lot to say about a young woman of Mr Drew's sister's age staying alone with two young men, even if they are her brothers and the three of them have been coming to village off and on since they all were small.
A streak of red joins the romping boys as Sirius watches, and after a moment he recognizes Rufus, the old captain's dog who has chosen to stay with Grey House, adopting the new owner. Minerva swears that the dog is part crup, and it wouldn't surprise Sirius if he discovered she was right – Rufus has the uncanny ability of appearing to really hear anything that Sirius tells him, and Padfoot finds that he can hold some rather intelligent conversations with the dog. Sirius stretches and pushes himself to his feet. Minerva gives him an inquiring look, and he simply indicates with chin to where Rufus has separated Harry away from the other boys and is even now gently herding him over. Minerva smiles and closes her journal, tucking away her precious pen. Strange as it might seem to other people in this equally strange (though the inhabitants would never admit it) little town, they've both adapted easily to being called to dinner by the shaggy red dog.
As he swings Harry up onto his shoulders and follows Rufus back to the Grey House, Sirius can almost forget the uneasy memories that haunt his dreams at night, like echoes of screams that just won't go away.
Almost.