Chapter Five
"It's been spread through the entire school by now," Harry heard when he approached the breakfast table in the morning.
"What has?" he asked Hermione.
"Slytherin's been spreading loads of rumors about Tamora and Draco," muttered Ron. "If I see Malfoy again, I'll kill him."
"What kind of rumors?" asked Harry.
Hermione sighed, "Well, they're not quite rumors."
"Why's that?"
"Because they're true. Shall I start at the beginning?" Harry nodded at Hermione. "All right. Sit down and eat, Harry. No wasting time. Well... Last night, Tamora snuck into the Slytherin boys' dormitories to look for Ron. Rumor is that Malfoy... erm. I don't think I should tell you this. You'll go off trying to kill him like Ron."
"Tell me, Hermione!" Harry snapped.
"All right, don't have a fit. Draco... he..."
"He what? Hermione- what happpened?!"
"He took advantage of her, all right?!" she said softly, ashamed to even speak the words. Harry immediately began to boil over with anger, his skin suddenly heating up. He whispered to Hermione, his temper flaring. "Where's Tamora?"
"Talking to Remus on the third floor. She didn't say anything to us yet."
"And Draco?"
"Quidditch practice, I think. But Harry, please don't hurt him, we'll have house points taken."
"I don't care," he said, "this is more important now."
"Please just talk to Tamora first! Harry!" Hermione followed him out onto the grounds to the practice Quidditch field. "Harry, just listen to me!"
"Malfoy!" Harry fumed. Draco dismounted his broom. "Hello Potter. Come to see what real talent looks like?" He kept his hand in his pocket, clasped around his wand. Malfoy laughed, "Or have you come to duel?" Malfoy reached into his pocket to retrieve his wand.
Harry drew his own wand, fury reaching a feverish anger, "ADVADA-"
"No!" Hermione dove at Harry, knocking his wand out of his hand.
"Let me go, Hermione! I'm going to kill him for what he did to Tamora!"
"No matter how much I'd love to see him dead, I'm not going to let you become a murderer! So calm down before they– Oh no, they're already here."
A small group of teachers were in the archway onto the field, standing still with fright. "Harry, come inside," said Lupin, running towards them. He rushed Harry through the archway, Hermione following close behind with his wand. Once they were at the staircase, Harry tried to free himself from Remus's hold. It was useless, just as he had expected. Malfoy would pay for what he had did. Malfoy would die. Maybe the premonition was correct. Maybe he had killed Draco himself, and the death eaters were angry. He hoped that was how it ended. But he had been upset to see him dead. Why had he been so upset?
Harry just barely escaped tripping on the last step when Remus pushed him into his temporary classroom.
"Just what do you think you were doing out there, Harry?!" Remus yelled. Harry had never seen him so angry before, not since his days as a werewolf. "You could've killed him!"
"...That was the idea."
"Do you know the danger you could have put yourself in by killing Lucius Malfoy's son?!"
Harry glanced at Remus, "But Lucius is in Azkaban."
"That's where you're wrong, Harry," he said, holding up today's issue of the Daily Prophet. He slammed it down face-up on the desk Harry was seated at.
AZKABAN PRISON ESCAPE WORRIES LOCAL AUTHORITIES
Lucius Malfoy, an incarcerated death eater, recently made history being the
second fugitive to escape Azkaban prison. He was reported missing from his
cell on Tuesday morning, and has not yet been found. Cornelius Fudge,
Minister of Magic, agreed to comment on behalf of the Ministry.
'We are searching every house of every street for the escaped, but
have not received any leads whatsoever. We will be working day and night
to find Malfoy, but until then, we must heighten security surrounding the
prison so that this incident will not become a trend.'
When asked for his input on the discarding of the body of the recently
sighted.dead convict, one Sirius Black, Fudge refused to comment.
Dementors are searching the area for clues to Malfoy's whereabouts, and local
law enforcers have been notified to arrest or kill the wanted criminal if he is
Harry stopped reading, suddenly feeling disheartened. "They have Sirius' body?" Remus shook his head.
"No, but Fudge wants to keep his position as Minister, so he takes the credit without actually having any proof. Keep reading."
Furthermore, Malfoy aided in the escape of one Bellatrix Lestrange, who
was coincidentally arrested the same night as Malfoy. Lestrange, however,
has been sighted in Little Whinging, as well as London and Liverpool.
Harry moved his eyes to the top of the page, where a much gaunter mug shot of Lucius was smiling wildly. Every so often, his eyes darted left and right, then the same smile crept onto his face. It was disturbing, even more so than the first picture he had ever seen of Sirius on the front page of the Daily Prophet. Lucius' eyes were more disturbed that Sirius' had been; Lucius had lost all of his sanity, it was clear to anyone who would examine his face.Lestrange was convicted of the murder of her cousin Sirius Black, and is considered
highly dangerous. Her current location remains a mystery, but the same caution
should be used if sighted.
"Tamora stepped out for a moment, I thought I'd have a much more difficult time of controlling you. She has explained to me... well, I'll bring her in."
"Don't injure him, he has to play Quidditch," joked Remus.
Tamora latched onto his lower arm, "Remus, no. You're not leaving. I'm afraid you won't come back." Remus embraced her, planting a kiss on her forehead, "I'll be here for nearly a month. I'm not leaving until I have to, all right? As I said, don't hurt him. I have to have a talk with Dumbledore."
Harry hadn't realized until then that though Harry had lost a godfather, Remus was now Tamora's only real family that missed Sirius. The Lestranges hated him, the Black family was ending with her, and now, Remus would be tortured by the moon. Harry was her only connection now, and he would have to become more than a brother. He'd have to be a guardian for her; a protector. All of these thoughts came to a screeching halt when Tamora closed the door behind Remus.
"Harry, how could you?!" Tamora leaned on the desk, face to face with the misinformed.
"I thought I'd be thanked after what Draco did to you!" Harry exclaimed.
Tamora laughed, "What he did to me? He did nothing. He tried, I'll give you that. My god he did try..." She smiled softly, then became serious when she saw Harry staring at her. "But I can take care of myself."
Draco was searching for Harry when he overheard his own name, quietly approaching the door and cracking it open a bit. He sat on the floor, leaning against the wall outside of the door. He listened to the silence before they began conversing again.
Harry felt relief washed over him, "But I should kill him for trying."
"I give him credit for trying."
"Well, you have Quidditch practice, don't you?" asked Harry.
She sat in the desk next to him, "No. I've been granted a day to spend with Remus before he begins to teach. I want to know what he's been doing since I saw him last."
Harry stood up and walked out of the door, holding it for her. "Tamora, why can't they just give him some kind of cure? Wolfsbane?"
"No," she said, "Wolfsbane can be used to kill the wolf, but he's so attached to the wolf that it will make him deathly ill or kill him with it. Amulets can't help, but they can change the manner of his moon cycle."
"What do you mean?"
"He could have a very fierce and painful time of it, and it would last an hour instead of twenty-four. But, he could do much more damage to himself, not to mention others." She sighed. "That's why he refuses. I told him to use the amulet so he could keep his position on the staff, but he's afraid he'll endanger my life. He may not recognize me if the wolf's hold over him is stronger. He may not be able to stop himself from harming me."
"You know he's right, don't you?" Harry said.
"What's right is usually the most pain in the end," said Tamora. "I don't want Remus to leave me for too long. You know, Harry. I'm much more fragile than you think." Harry's ears perked up and he looked at her quizzically. "Yes, I am. I may come off as so dependent. If it wasn't for Remus, I wouldn't have been able to bear the pain of my father's death. And if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't know anyone that truly knew and loved both of them."
"Remus didn't tell me very much about the Marauders," said Harry, "but I've seen some things. They were very cruel to Snape when they were young. Most of the time he didn't even deserve it... it was horrible."
"Snape's fine. He was just a very awkward person. Probably lonely as a child, am I right?" Tamora could tell she was by Harry's amazement. "I can read people very well."
"How do you read Malfoy then?" asked Harry, "What makes that coward's mind tick?"
"I've met his father, this summer at a Quidditch game. I think that's where his hatred comes from. His father is truly a monster."
"And Malfoy himself? What do you see?"
Tamora thought on it, replying slowly, "Well... He's very lonely, like Snape. Unlike Snape, he has the potential to find a girlfriend. He's got money, friends, and his own world of superiority and egoism. I think I've knocked him down a few notches, though. It's really because he knows he's a coward, though. He's not all evil."
"Yes, yes he is," said Harry. "The cowardice is his strong point."
"I believe his father has such a hold on him that he is frightened for his life. His father is dangerous, especially now that he's escaped. That ego of his, though... That I must erase."
Harry whispered to her, "Shh... Someone's outside the door."
Malfoy stood up quickly and silently, walking into the room next door. Tamora popped her head outside of the door. "Who was it?" Harry's hand snapped to his robe pocket, retrieving his most valuable item.
"The Marauders' Map!" whispered Tamora, watching Harry unfold the map. She put her wand to the map, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. Remus told me."
Ink flowed onto the map in graceful lines, a perfect outline of the school. They saw two small dots labeled 'Harry Potter' and 'Tamora Black' standing beside eachother, and behind them to the right a dot labeled 'Draco Malfoy' that was fading in and out. "...Why is it blinking?"
Harry understood completely, turning to the door next to him. "Tamora, you never got my invisibility cloak back, did you?" Tamora smiled slyly, shooting sparks into the room through the keyhole.
Draco yelled in pain, and Harry flung the door open. Draco was laying on the floor; the cloak had fallen off of the top half of his body, and he was clutching his side. "And I almost thought you had some sympathy. And you, Potter. At least I don't faint every time I see a black cloak."
Tamora held Harry's hand so that he wouldn't reach for his wand. Draco grinned, "If my father had granted a transfer to Gryffindor, I would have become garbage like Weasel King. Now Tamora, you were chosen for Slytherin, no matter what your father did. You were chosen to join us."
"I was sorted into Slytherin because I do have reason to become a dark witch."
Draco scoffed, "And what would that be?"
Harry stopped her, "The Quidditch match is tomorrow, Malfoy. No one can hear you boast if they're all cheering for Gryffindor."
Harry lead her down the hall to staircases, leaving Draco behind. "How come you never told me Sirius was transferred to Gryfindor?"
"I thought you knew," said Tamora. "After all, Remus had a picture of the six of them in Gryffindor robes, save one, on his desk."
"Six?"
She nodded, "The four marauders, Lily, and my mother. She was in Slytherin all seven years. It must have been difficult for him to choose who to cheer for during Quidditch games. You can ask Remus yourself, you know. I've seen so many memories lately."
"Seen?"
"Sit down, Harry," said Remus once he and Tamora were inside the classroom. "Tamora told you about the pensieve then. I thought she would." He smiled at Tamora.
"Actually, I studied with Professor Snape for a while last year, and..." he remembered what he had seen in Snape's memories, "...and I've seen a pensieve before."
Lupin pressed the tip of his wand to his head, removing a flowing silvery strand. He placed it in the pensieve and urged Harry to look inside.
He was consumed by the thought, it seemed, his eyes closed shut. He began to hear laughing and cheerful voices.
"Come on Peter!" a young, slightly rough voice echoed. "Pass it here!"
"James! Look out!" he heard the very familiar (and dramatically younger) voice of Remus call out. The memory was still blotched, coming slowly into focus.
"Cut it out, Padfoot!" James laughed. Harry could hear brooms soaring overhead, then... he could see them. They must have been sixth or seventh-years, each of them ripping through the sky towards eachother, passing a rather shoddy Quaffle. Sirius was switching positions from Beater to Chaser now and then, confusing them and laughing the entire time.
Remus, the only one not playing, was sitting against a tree, completely absorbed in a book. "Come on, stick in the mud! Play with us!" Sirius goaded. "You have to! Wait, if he his a stick in the mud," he said to James, "shouldn't he be appropriately dressed?"
"You're right."
"I know," said Sirius proudly. He dismounted his broom, blocking Remus' light to read.
"What do you want?" Remus said, looking up from his book for the first time. Harry smiled, he had been handsome, but aloof as a teenager. Sirius was the exact opposite, strikingly handsome, and to Harry's surprise, followed by a group of swooning witches wherever he went (that he seemed to thoroughly enjoy). Remus laughed, "your fans are here again, Sirius. You'd better go talk to them before they come over here and– oh, nevermind. Here they come now."
The small group giggled, walking towards Sirius, who turned around, causing them to giggle even more furiously. He smoothed his hair, answering with as much ego as possible.
"Hello ladies; Lily." Each of the witches had looked over him at least once, from his face to his entirely black attire.
"He mentioned Lily!" whispered one of the girls excitedly. The group decided unanimously to push Lily to the front. "Hello Sirius."
"My, you look lovely today," he complimented, looking over her.
Harry was puzzled. Did Sirius and Lily have some type of feelings for eachother?
"Thank you. You're looking rather dashing in all that black," Lily answered. The girls were now becoming very angry with Lily. Had she not mentioned Sirius' clothing, they may have all gone green with envy.
"Sirius!" piped a younger girl. "Who will you be taking to the seventh year formal ball?"
"Lily, of course!" said Sirius, flashing a smile. "Who else would I choose?"
Several witches sighed sadly, others groaned and became extremely jealous. After a few minutes of uninterrupted silence (while each and every girl examined Sirius with a certain degree of wonder, among other things), the throng of girls left Lily with him. Remus' interest was now peaked, though he continued to read his book. He didn't look up when he spoke to Sirius. "Do you do this to every group of girls- lead them on like that?"
Sirius admitted, "I have to do something to keep half of the seventh year girls from asking me to the Formal Ball. Thanks Lily."
"No problem," she smirked, "but I still think you enjoy that a bit too much."
"Which? Acting all lovey-dovey or the girls?"
"Which do you think?" she said, giving him a look that plainly called him a self-centered git.
"All right, I do enjoy them a little."
"A little? You practically tell them to come back, the way you keep fooling with their minds."
"That's not all they wish I'd fool with," Sirius boasted.
Remus, James, and Peter exchanged a groan. "Sirius, not in front of a girl," said James. "Keep some morals, won't you?"
"Hasn't the faintest of what morals are, James," Remus said, still reading his book.
"Oh, lighten up, Moony! You've been reading too much." Sirius consulted James, "What do you think, James- is there a cure for this poor git?"
"Only one."
Sirius kicked mud onto Remus' immaculate clothes. Remus finally looked up, mud dripping from his hair. "I didn't want to have to resort to this."
"Oh no, Sirius! He's going to throw his book at you, look out!" Peter jested, pretending to hide, shivering, behind James' cloaks. Lily laughed along with the other three.
Remus sprang to his feet, wrestling Sirius to the ground. He left Padfoot on the ground, mounting his broom and kicking off into the air.
"No one can beat me on a broom, Moony!"
"Then it should be a challenge!" Remus called.
Harry laughed and felt a sudden jolt in his heart. They had all been such close friends, he could feel it... He saw at once a woman with long black hair and all black clothes at knew from the first glance that it was Tamora's mother. She's so beautiful, thought Harry. Tamora looks so much like her. And Sirius. Sirius must have been a wonderful father...
Just then his attention was drawn to another boy with long blonde hair who also seemed to have his own fan club. It was none other than Lucius Malfoy, though he seemed younger than the others.
"Who's that?" said Peter to Lily, pointing at the blonde boy.
"Lucius Malfoy," said Lily, disgusted by the name, "very cocky. He's a third-year and he's already got himself a fan club."
Rosaline walked towards Lily, "What did I miss?" She sniggered at the two; Remus throwing golf balls at Sirius and Sirius swinging a club at him, both dangling off of their brooms. "You call that a Quidditch match?!" she yelled at them. Both stopped in their odd positions, Sirius now holding onto Remus' broom and wrapping one leg around his own. Remus was hanging upside down with both his arms flailing to catch his scarf from falling.
"Hello Rosaline," Remus smiled, blood rushing to his head. "Remus, Sirius. Get down from there and play some real Quidditch. Hello James!" Rosaline embraced James, then mounted her broom. "Do I really have to go up there?"
"...'fraid so," said James with a mischievous smirk. "Sirius needs someone to give him a little... shove, in the right direction?"
"I'm catching on," said Rosaline, flying up to them and pushing Sirius off of his broom. Remus took a hold of Sirius' broom while Sirius yelled, spiraling towards the ground. Rosaline dove and caught him, the broom dipping under the weight of both of them. Back on the ground, James, Lily, and Peter were laughing hysterically, not just at Sirius, but also Remus.
"Still think you're the best, Padfoot?" James yelled. Remus was balancing with one foot on each broom, showing off, then nearly falling.
"I don't think it, I know it!" said Sirius. Before he could speak another word, his broom hurtled towards him, and he caught it before it smashed into the ground. He sighed, "That was too close. I'll have to get that stupid werewolf for that."
Rosaline let him down onto his own broom and together they met Remus at two hundred feet. "Just you, me, and Rosaline now. Two against one."
"Where do you get off thinking I'm on a team with you?" asked Rosaline. Remus smiled. "Or you," she continued. "I am on no one's team. Hand me one of those clubs, will you, Moony?"
She hit Sirius in the back of his head with her club. "That's for entertaining your fans while I'm not around. Thank you, Moony. Let's play!" She zipped around in giant loops, flipping upside down and the like.
"Can you believe this woman?" Sirius rubbed his head. "I have every single witch in the castle chasing after me..."
"But you don't care about any other witches."
"Yes, I know," he let out a sharp groan, "that left a mark, I'm sure..."
"She's already left a mark on you, Sirius." Remus waved a folded piece of parchment in his face. "Love letters?" Sirius nearly fell off of his broom trying to retrieve the note.
"Give me the parchment back, you bloody werewolf!"
"Oh, I can see why you'd be so angry with me. Dearest Rosaline. Oh... my." Rosaline hovered behind Lupin, blushing a deep red as her eyes moved over the page.
Remus held up his hand and ordered the broom to stop. It reacted immediately, nearly knocking Sirius off. "What in hell have you done to my broom?!"
"Correction, my broom. It only listens to me. So, Rosaline, what do you think?"
She surveyed Sirius, then the paper, moving from one to the other until she had decided, "Well he's arrogant, charming, very handsome, rude, and extremely cunning. And he cheers for Slytherin when he thinks I'm too far away to hear him." Padfoot frowned.
"Yes or no?" Remus asked.
"Well... yes."
"Yes to what?" asked Sirius impatiently, trying to move the broom.
"She's agreed to go with me to the Seventh-Year Formal Ball," said Remus, smiling at Rosaline.
"...She what?"
"Is your arrogance affecting your hearing?" Rosaline said, "I'm going with Remus to the Ball."
"But... what about me?"
"Oh, you have every single witch in the castle chasing after you, it's just a matter of choosing one. What color are your dress robes, Remus?" They talked together in hushed tones, leaving Padfoot alone.
Sirius looked very pathetic and crestfallen, and Remus' broom finally began to cooperate. He hovered for a while, then began to descend, dismounting when he was close enough to the ground. "Remus, give me my broom back, please."
"He's using manners," Rosaline whispered. "What's wrong with him? Look at him- he's Padfoot again. Under that tree there- see him?"
"I just wanted to settle his pride a bit," said Remus. "for when he takes you to the Formal Ball."
"But–"
"The night of the Seventh-Year Formal Ball is a full moon," Moony said, looking straight into her eyes. "I can't go. Not even if I want to. I want you to go with Sirius."
"Moony... Please."
"Just go! I'll be fine."
"Are you sure?"
"I'll even attack Snivellus for you."
She beamed, "So we're still friends?"
"When haven't we been? Go on, love. Before he gets more pathetic."
Rosaline kissed him happily, making her way down to Sirius. "Remus and I have decided that you may want this back." She let the parchment fall near his front paws. He was human soon, and then he picked it up, unfolding it. Harry stood behind Sirius so that he could read the note.
Sirius is absolutely mad for you, but being an egotistical bastard is a full-time occupation. If he spoke his mind, he'd most likely ask you to the Seventh-Year Formal Ball. But since the git isn't going to give up his pride any time soon, I'd like to ask you for him. What do you think? Yes or No?
Remus
Sirius stood up and stared at Rosaline, making is smile evident; then, using the moment to her own advantage, caught him completely off-guard in a kiss. Remus cheered, followed shortly by James' best wolf whistle. Harry couldn't help but grin with the utter happiness that had accumulated in the past few minutes, so great that it hung in the air like a dense fog. Lily answered them both by elbowing James to shut him up as soon as possible. "Since today is our last day to really enjoy ourselves before exams," began Lily, taking out an camera that was obviously enchanted.
"Not more pictures!" groaned Sirius, who was met with five other voices yelling at him to shut his mouth.
The camera floated several feet in front of them, focusing and setting its timer. Harry saw his vision blur, then with the flash, he sat straight up at the same desk he had been in before. Remus retrieved his memory and stood beside Tamora again.
Harry looked across the room, standing shakily. He walked over to Remus' desk and examined the photograph. It was the same. Smiling, laughing, waving up at him in pure joy. Then he focused on Sirius and Rosaline, and Peter at the opposite end of the picture. Peter had told Voldemort where his parents were, killed Rosaline, and framed Sirius, and still been left to roam throughout the country while Sirius was being stripped of his most happy memories. Now he knew; he knew why Tamora wanted to kill Peter and Bellatrix. Now he knew the rage that Tamora felt, that such loss had caused. If she wished to kill them, she would not face them alone.
"Thanks, Remus," Harry said distantly, "I have to go back and see Ron and Hermione now. I'll talk with you later in the week."
"There's one more, Harry," said Tamora.
"Tamora- I don't think that's–" began Remus.
"Moony, please. I want him to know."
Remus held the tip of his wand to his temple again, extracting another memory to place into the pensieve. "I don't suggest this... it's too soon. After what I saw on that field I don't want to catch you running after Bellatrix or Peter, or you'll have much more to deal with than Voldemort."
Harry gazed into the pensieve, instantly feeling a rush of cool air, then just as suddenly as the wind burst in his face, warmth tingled in his limbs. He was in Sirius' home; he could recognize it before he even saw it: the certain smell, the feel. He heard the crying of a baby, and soft-spoken words.
"Sh-sh-shhh... Daddy and Mummy will be back soon, my dear. They've only gone for a walk."
"Moony Moony!" the baby giggled.
"Yes, that's right. Moony's here to take care of you." Remus smiled lovingly at the tiny child.
"Tama and Moony!" she babbled in a sweet sing-song voice. "Tama and Moony!"
He suddenly felt a chill, and he ran to the door frantically, holding Tamora in his arms, though he didn't quite understand why. He felt danger, he could sense it when the full moon drew near ever since he became a werewolf. It was strong, almost enough to make him panic. He saw Sirius just leaving a small café with Tamora and Peter at opposite ends of a crowd of Muggles, Peter with his wand raised. Remus' stomach gave a sickening lurch as he hastened down the street, whispering to Tamora, "It'll be all right. Hold on to Moony now." The child clasped the excess fabric in her little hands, turning her face to the crowd to see where they were headed. "Sirius!" Remus shouted, calling his attention to Wormtail. Sirius ran out of the doorway, his wand raised.
"ADVADA KEDARVA!" Remus heard someone bellow, a flash of green light penetrating the small crowd of people. He held Tamora's head toward his chest, shielding her with his arms.
"NO!" he heard Padfoot yell desperately over the mass chaos. The screams were the most terrifying thing Remus had ever heard in his life. Then, the screaming stopped, leaving silence even more horrific than the screams. Mist covered the square entirely from the strength of the spell. Remus waved his hand in front of his face, holding Tamora close.
He heard weeping, and now he could see the reason. Around a dozen muggles lay dead on the ground, along with one other. One witch...
"No, Rosaline..." he heard Sirius' voice echo. "It'll all be better..." He was sitting on the ground, rocking her limp body in his arms. Tears streamed from his face in devastating sorrow.
Remus couldn't utter a word or look on any other sight than that of Sirius, his best friend, crouched over the body of his dead wife, his own dear friend... As for Peter, he was nowhere to be found. Rage forced Remus' blood to boil, and overwhelming grief brought him to his knees, holding Tamora close and sobbing, looking at Sirius with bloodshot eyes. Sirens wailed in the distance. The Muggle police would soon be here. Sirius' wand was still gripped tightly in his hand, and now he stood, calling aloud. "WORMTAIL! DO YOU SEE WHAT YOU'VE DONE?! DO YOU SEE HER, PETER?!" Remus was sure he'd gone mad with guilt and sadness, standing up and trying to calm him. His eyes had were lackluster and unfocused. His boyish charm and reckless enthusiasm, his liveliness... All Remus had known and loved about him since they met on the train the first year at Hogwarts... now ripped from his body in mere seconds. Remus put his hand on his best friend's shoulder, wiping tears from his own face and Sirius'. "Come with me inside. Peter's gone... Bring Rosaline." Remus wiped more tears from his eyes.
"What's happened?" said a few wizards from outside of their shops. "Why, it's Sirius Black! He's killed all these Muggles!" said a witch on the corner, her hand to her mouth agape. "Sirius killed them! And Peter Pettigrew!" "Dear, sweet Peter! Now he's dead! DEAD! Look here, only a finger left!" Each of the people in the square began to murmur excitedly, angrily, ready to single out Sirius. "Sirius is a murderer!" some cried, others, "Poor Peter!" and still others demanded justice.
An authority figure from the Ministry of Magic apparated to the street corner where an old witch stood. "What has happened here?!"
"Sirius Black killed Peter Pettigrew and those muggles!" she said, pointing at Sirius accusingly. "Thank you, Madam. We'll take it from here. Quick, over there," ordered the wizard from the Ministry to the guards, "Arrest that man. Arrest Sirius Black!"
A small group, much like Muggle officers, ran towards him, but instead they were armed with wands. "Release your wand. Sirius Black, you are henceforth accused of the murder of Peter Pettigrew and the Muggles identified as Bridget Wilkinson, Jacob Cambric..." The list went on; Harry counted exactly thirteen, twelve muggles and a wizard, as had been reported in the Daily Prophet many times before. What he didn't understand was the absence of Rosaline from the count. He looked behind him to find a witch apparating with Rosaline's body, though no one seemed to notice.
"Officer, he's innocent!" Moony reasoned.
"There are over twenty witnesses. What makes you think that we'll take your word over theirs?"
"I killed no one, release me! IT WAS PETER PETTIGREW!" Sirius growled as they held him back by his arms, handcuffing him. They took his wand from his clenched fist forcefully and pulled him away. His animalistic shouts and threats were not aiding the situation, in fact, the officers were more inclined to hurt him. All of the people from the Ministry apparated, taking Sirius with them. A single wizard stayed behind, modifying the minds of every Muggle in the vicinity. Remus stood over the body of Rosaline, cradling Tamora who was soon to fall asleep. She gurgled, nuzzling his sweater affectionately.
Remus dried his tears a third time (but not for the last time, he was certain) and sat on the ground, holding Rosaline's frozen hand. Harry felt the same rush of cold air, and he pulled his head up, tears flowing down his face, dripping from his chin. Remus had been affected, too- he could tell that it was still excruciating pain to remember. "You were right, Remus- I'll kill Peter at any chance I get."
"And I won't stop you," said Remus, "I lied." He wiped his eyes with his hand. "Fifteen years, Harry- and look at me. I still can't control my own tears when I think about her. A piece of us died with her, a piece of Padfoot and myself. Peter ripped out our hearts and left you and Tamora without parents. That is why I won't stop you. But I won't let you fight him- them, alone."
It was cold and dark when Harry awoke the next morning, he pulled the covers up over his shoulders, trying to grasp what warmth was left in his body. "Wake up, Harry!" Ron said, shoving him. He grasped the covers in alarm, trying to stay on the mattress. "I'm awake, I'm awake," Harry groaned, yawning loudly. He reached for his Quidditch robes absentmindedly, pulling Hedwig's empty cage onto the floor. Ron handed him his robes.
"Thanks. Oh, no."
"What?" asked Ron, "Missing a glove?"
"No, Tamora's playing against us today, and I promised McGonagall that I wouldn't try to help her. I don't know if I can keep that promise..."
"Don't worry, Harry," Ron said, tossing his boots towards him. "It's not like Draco's going to hurt someone on his own team. He may put a few dents in you, though."
Harry pulled his boots and dragon hide gloves on, picking up his Firebolt. "I heard Draco has a new kind of Firebolt."
"Yeah. A Blaze. He offered Tamora one for free. I think he fancies her."
"You think?" Harry was amazed that Ron hadn't assumed that from the start. "He's been trying to win her over from the first time he saw her, Ron. Please don't tell me this is the first time you ever thought that."
The answer was yes, judging by his sudden change of topic. "We have to go. The game starts in fifteen minutes. Angelina's probably going to start her pep talk soon." On the way to the field, Ron brought up Draco and Tamora again. "...Of course, she doesn't really like him at all, does she?"
"No," said Harry matter-of-factly, "she loathes him. She wouldn't ever think of him as anything but a nuisance."
"Attention," said Angelina Johnson, "I am still team captain, so either answer to me, or answer to McGonagall in detention. It's your choice, lady and gentlemen. First I'll state the facts: Slytherin has better brooms, better gear, and one more player than we do. But we have something they don't have- talent." A few players laughed.
"We're missing someone?" asked Harry.
Angelina nodded solemnly, "We haven't got a Keeper, so Alicia's filling in. We'll be missing a Chaser for the entire game. But rough play's never stopped us before, has it, Potter? Okay, everyone! Let's go out there and beat those Slytherins into the ground!" Angelina took Harry aside as the other players filed onto the field. "Watch out for Malfoy this year, Harry. He's been getting better at injuring other players, and his skills have improved. He's almost a worthy opponent now." Harry continued onto the field, taking flight.
"AND NOW, INTRODUCING THE SUPERIOR GRYFFINDOR QUIDDITCH TEAM!" Lee Jordan yelled into the purple microphone until McGonagall tried to pull it from his hands. "With returning Quidditch captain, Angelina Johnson, who is wearing a very tight uniform today–" " Jordan!" boomed McGonagall's voice.
"Sorry Professor. And here comes Harry Potter, the ever-popular Seeker of the Gryffindor Quidditch team!" Cheers could be heard from the Gryffindor stands. Each player was poised in his or her position, and the tension was building between the two teams by the second. Madam Hooch spoke loudly, "I can't stress the importance of sportsmanship enough between you. But, we all know that never works out. At the end of every game we find either Potter or Malfoy collapsed in the grass, so I'll make this short." She blew the whistle, throwing the Quaffle into the air. "The Quaffle has been released!" announced Lee Jordan. "Johnson has the Quaffle- wait! Crabbe knocks the Bludger in her path- near miss, Angelina! And the Quaffle's been passed to Johnson again! She's preparing to shoot–"
Harry kept a sharp eye out for the Snitch, but half a watch on Tamora as she successfully blocked a goal.
"Tamora Black has blocked the Quaffle!" The Snitch whizzed underneath Harry's broom, heading towards the Slytherin stands. He dove towards it, opening his outstretched hand. "Get out of the way, Potter!" Draco yelled, closing in on him.
"Get used to losing, Malfoy!"
Lee Jordan brought everyone's attention to the two Seekers, "And it seems the Snitch appeared early in the game! Look at them go! Get out of there, Malfoy you stupid b–"
"JORDAN!"
"Sorry, sorry... BELL HAS THE QUAFFLE! She shoots! Another block by Tamora Black! Someone ought to knock that girl off her broom and score a goal!"
"Jordan, that is enough!"
Lee put the megaphone to his mouth again, "Montague passes to Warrington- GET 'IM, GIRLS! He's going to shoot- Alicia looks nervous. BLOODY H–" After a brief moment of struggling for the megaphone with McGonagall, he tore it out of her hands, muttering angrily, "Slytherin scores... BUT HERE COMES ANGELINA- pass to Bell, then back to Angelina- this is madness! They're making to shoot- OH! A bludger nearly knocks Bell off her broom— she drops the Quaffle, Warrington has the Quaffle–"
Harry soared upward, then dove sharply for the Snitch, weaving in and out of the pillars of the stands. Draco followed him closely, Crabbe and Goyle hitting Bludgers at Harry the entire time. "Having fun, Potter?!" Malfoy yelled to him. Harry felt the rush of air as a Bludger passed his head, ruffling his hair. He had no time to add a retort now, the Snitch was very close. He careened downward, then up into the air again past the hoops. A Bludger was coming up from behind him swiftly, aimed directly at his head. Draco smirked, picking up speed.
Tamora caught sight of the Bludger and abandoned her post, taking Crabbe's club and smashing the Bludger away from Harry's head with a loud crack. Harry looked behind him soon enough to see the Bludger sailing away towards Malfoy. Draco swung upside-down on his broom to dodge it, giving Harry time to tail the Snitch.
Lee's voice filled the stadium, "—It seems Montague's going to make another goal- what's this?— HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS ONE HUNDRED FIFTY TO FOURTY!"
Madam Hooch blew the whistle.
"Fastest bloody game in the history of Quidditch..." Jordan added, not realizing he was still talking into the megaphone.
Each member of the Slytherin Quidditch team glared disapprovingly at Tamora for the rest of the day, and avoided her in the halls. On the other hand, she had found many new loyal friends in Gryffindor...
Malfoy finally confronted Tamora on the way to Divination. "Why did you have to save Potter's ass out there? You could've gotten him killed and we've
won the match by default!"
"To some people, Draco, other human lives hold value. I don't think you've ever heard of friendship; it's not listed in the books of Dark Magic, after all."
Draco bit his lower lip, hiding a smile, "There's also pride and victory. Sticking up for Potter and Weasley is more charity than friendship, don't you think?"
"I do think, but it seems you need to more often before you speak. You end up sounding like a complete and total ass." Tamora looked away from him to wave at Hermione.
Draco nodded, "Granger." Hermione decided to acknowledge his presence with a glance.
"Malfoy."
"What's Trelawney teaching today?" Tamora asked.
"Who knows," said Hermione irritably, glancing at her watch. "Probably something to do with death, black dogs, or..." Hermione did her best imitation of Trelawney, waving her arms dramatically and bulging out her eyes. "...the unknown!" Tamora laughed riotously, tying her green and silver scarf around her head. "...Good day, class. Miss Brown, is Mr. Potter dead yet? Wonderful! Oh, class- we will be reading eachothers' tongues today- white film on the tongue can predict the future. The omniscience of the great beyond has spoken! I myself will die... tomorrow!" Tamora and Hermione laughed irrepressibly; 'UNKNOWN!' echoed loudly in the halls, causing quite a stir. Trelawney stood at the ladder today, catching sight of their obvious impersonations of her.
"Good day, Miss Granger; Miss Black. How lovely to see you both," she said stiffly. "Follow me up the ladder now."
They stifled their inane giggling, following her up the ladder to her classroom. "Today I would like to focus my psychic energies upon your fate, Miss Black. I am terribly worried about your previous existence."
"...Right. As am I..." Tamora said quizzically. Only then did the three notice that the classroom was entirely empty.
"Have a seat, Miss Black; Mr. Malfoy."
Hermione didn't wait for her order to be seated; Trelawney hadn't taken lightly her choice to leave in her third year. Trelawney closed the trap door, sliding a wooden lock in place.
The usual mystic voice was no longer heard, and she seemed much more serious. "Quite a facade, isn't it?" she said, taking out a bowl that was quite like a pensieve, but gold with a small crystal base. It took a moment for the realization, but her voice was different. In fact, her voice was quite different, a younger sound... lighter.
"...I know Trelawney's voice, even without the load of cack she says and the ridiculous arm-waving. And you're not her," said Draco. She glanced up at Draco for only a moment, then walked to an empty table and picked up a crystal ball. They all jumped in alarm when she slammed it against the inside of the bowl, strange cloudy liquid pouring out.
Tamora nodded in agreement, "Take off your glasses, won't you, Professor?"
A wide smile appeared on her face, seemingly lighting up the room. "I knew you would guess. None of the other students caught on."
She removed her glasses and her headband, a sweet heart-shaped face finally revealed.
Hermione took a step backwards, watching loud purple spikes of hair overcome the usual poof of dirty-blonde. "I don't know if I've properly introduced myself, Hermione. I may just be forgetful. I'm Nymphadora. But I'd much rather you called me Tonks."
"Yes of course!" said Hermione gleefully, "But why are you dressed as Trelawney?"
"You have no idea how annoying it is to use that bloody voice all day!" Tonks fumed, "And those clothes! Did you know that this classroom wreaks of incense?! (she changed her mood temporarily) Well, that's beside the point. The Order sent me here."
"For what?"
She teased Tamora, "What, you're not glad I'm here?"
"Of course I am! But what do they have to say?" Tamora pleaded, "I have to know what's happening here."
"What do you think I'm doing?" Tonks asked her, swirling the foggy liquid around with the opposite end of her wand. "I know, misuse of my wand... stand back a bit." Tonks cleared everyone out of range of the large bowl.
"Ignis conspecta!" The edges of the bowl burst into flame, the liquid bubbling within the bowl.
"TONKS?! WHAT IS THIS?!" Tamora exclaimed.
"You'll find out... if I've done this correctly!" Tonks yelled, sound near muted in the room.
"AND IF NOT?!"
"...The hospital wing's still open, right?!"
"What in bloody hell is that supposed to mean?!" Draco bellowed.
"Shut up and hold on!" said Tonks, forcing his hands into the flames. It didn't burn his hands, but it wasn't quite pleasant, either. The feeling was an annoying numbness, much like the sensation when one's hand falls asleep. Light shot out of the ridges of the bowl, making it nearly impossible for them to keep their eyes open. Tamora squinted, feeling a sudden rush much like flying. Her stomach gave a jolt, and she saw to her own amazement that they were at least thirty feet above the train tracks for the Hogwarts Express, moving towards the Muggle world. Then, they were pushed forward again, hanging onto the blazing rim for dear life.
"TONKS!!!" Tamora yelled, the almost muted surroundings feeling abnormal and frightening. "WHERE ARE WE?!"
The street flashed into view. Tonks grinned, enjoying the rush, "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Welcome home, Tamora."
"But...we're floating!" she yelled, "How are we going to get in?"
White light surrounded. They charged forth, heading straight through the wall. They were suspended in mid-air, surrounded by light. Moody was pacing the room, his blue glassy eye whirling around in its socket. It rolled back into his head, and he turned around. "I was expecting you. Is Potter there? Oh, right. You can't answer, can ye?" He chuckled, pacing, his footfalls thudding heavily on the wooden floor. "Well, Tamora- I suppose you didn't expect to see me. Tell Remus I've found a new, method, should I say?- to help him through the end of next month.
"We've seen Pettigrew. He was last in the London Underground, but we lost him. That's why I had to talk to ye, Tamora. Tonks has to stay there for a while just in case Peter's lookin' for revenge. He's known to be a bit daft now that he's in his more likable form. Hope that red-headed disaster's not still lookin' for him." Hermione smiled at mention of Ron.
"If you do come across Peter, forget the fancy spells and take off one of your shoes." To see Moody wink was an bizarre thing, because the bright blue eye still spun around while the other was closed. "I'll be seeing all of you before the end of the year, especially you." He pointed in the direction of Malfoy. "Remus told me all about Crouch turnin' you into a ferret. Bet you made a very nice one, too. I'll do it m'self- if you get in my way. Take care of Tamora. Don't make me keep ye as a pet." They could hear Draco swallow hard, and Moody nodded as though he knew for certain that poor Draco was petrified. Hermione suppressed a laugh, Tamora elbowing her (which only caused her to laugh louder in the long run).
"That's all. Tonks- don't destroy anything please. Or trip. Or decapitate any students. Trelawney's only going to be gone for a day."
They felt a much greater force pulling them backwards at an alarming rate, stopping abruptly. They were flung onto the floor behind the bowl, and the liquid turned to dust.
"And that," said Tonks, sifting some of the contents of the bowl through her fingers, "is floo powder." Once they had collected themselves, Tamora was first to speak.
"What... was that?"
"It has no real name, so we simply called it by the name of the spell."
"I prefer to call it a crystal ball that works," Tamora jested.
Tonks smiled, "Whatever you decide to call it, don't tell anyone about it, unless you want us to get into quite a bit of trouble."
"What's the matter, Malfoy? Still worried you'll wake up a ferret one day?" Hermione grinned, savoring the look of terror he wore. "Think of it as a step up from disgusting slime with blonde hair. And no Quidditch skills to speak of, I might add."
"You would think that, wouldn't you, Granger? But I'll always be far superior to you, you filthy little mudbl–"
"Don't you ever tire of saying that?" She asked.
"Off to your next class, all of you," said Tonks. "I'd rather you stayed here, but McGonagall will throw a fit if I don't force you to leave."
"Bye, Tonks." said Tamora. "I'll tell Harry you said hello."
"I'll tell him myself. He's in my last class of the day," said Tonks, reading from a roster.
Tamora hugged her before she, Hermione, and Draco left. "Wonder what he has for Moony. Something to help with the moon cycles, but what?"
Neither Hermione nor Draco answered, but still shot nasty looks at eachother behind Tamora's back.
"Oh, you two," she laughed, "stop it. People will think you're lovebirds."
They shared one common bond at least, they were now both very angry with Tamora.
"Don't ever say that again." Hermione looked around to see if there was anyone about.
Malfoy added, "Especially in public. I mean, someone might have heard that. I can't afford to ruin my reputation."
"What reputation," Hermione muttered. It was more fact than question.
"Shut your ignorant mouth, Granger," Draco hissed.
Hermione was on the brink of combustion when Tamora pointed out Harry. Harry's face held a bemused expression at the sight of the three of them walking down the hall... together. "Where did you come from?"
"Ton–... Trelawney's lesson," answered Tamora briefly.
Harry shook his head, "No. Where were you really?"
"I'll explain later."
"Why are they staring at eachother?" Harry whispered to Tamora.
"Let's see..." she said sarcastically. "They hate eachother, they're forced to sit at the same table to speak to me at the same time, and I just made a joke about them being lovebirds. I don't know. Any ideas?"
Harry smiled grimly, "When haven't they hated eachother? It's amazing that they can sit without arguing."
"That sounds familiar," said Tamora, "since it's the exact same way with the two house pets." She insinuated about the night of Halloween.
"No," he answered, "This goes much deeper. Malfoy started this."
"Did not."
"We're whispering for a reason, Draco!" said Tamora. "Go on, Harry. How did this all begin- the war against Draco?"
"Well, it all started in Madam Malkin's actually, before I even met Ron and Hermione..."
The rest of the afternoon was spent telling horror stories of Malfoy and their past of hatred. Tamora was shocked beyond all reckoning by the time they were ordered to return to their common rooms. Draco had long since left them, and by now, no one cared where he had gone to. Harry checked his watch, "Well, it's a quarter after eleven. We'd ought to be going."
"I don't think I'll ever speak to that miserable coward ever again," said Tamora.
"Don't be that hard on him. Put some effort into it- you can hate him more than that," said Hermione smartly. "Give his face a good smack every day. He's earned it."
"That I will do," said Tamora, walking to the dark, murky entrance to the dungeons. "Goodnight, Ron; Hermione; Prongs." Harry's head snapped up, staring at her. "What?"
"Prongs. You have to continue the tradition; you know that, don't you?"
"You're right. I suppose... I suppose I do." Harry had thought of it many times when he was alone on sleepless nights, or simply when he could no longer pay attention in Trelawney's class. It was the best thing to take his mind off of the dramatic turn of events of late. He was Prongs. It was a comfort and a constant reminder of the Marauders, and then... there was Snape. As suddenly as he had thought of Snape's name and the pensieve, he wondered again how they had begun to hate him. How had they come to hate Snape?
"Well it's a long story. I'll tell you tomorrow," said Tamora. "It was a lot like how you hated Draco, but much more simplistic and childish."
"...Are you psychic?" said Harry incredulously.
"No, but I do have excellent hearing. You muttered it only a moment ago," said Tamora with a wink. She looked behind her quickly, letting out a shriek and falling against the wall.
"Hello, Tamora," said Malfoy cheekily, "how nice of you to return to your dormitories before midnight. You three are out of bed, though. I may have to deduct house points unless you leave us alone... together." He emphasized 'together' for reasons Harry didn't want to guess.
"Please, Draco.. You're a prefect, you're a horrible Quidditch player, and you can't stand anyone who's better than you. You should hate me by now. I have everything you lack." She walked past him triumphantly. "Good night. I'll see you all tomorrow."
They all turned away from Draco, and once they did, Hermione giggled. "The one he wants is the only one out of the entire school he can't have. I almost feel bad for him."
"Almost?" said Ron.
"Wait," Hermione pretended to ponder this, "...No. I don't."
Harry watched Malfoy lean against the wall outside of the doorway to the dungeons. He seemed like he was terribly... lonely? Harry defied his own thoughts. Draco was lonely. Maybe that was his problem. Maybe Ron was right. Tamora was his option for the Sixth-Year Formal Ball. Malfoy didn't want the other hoards of girls. He just wanted... her. The thought only lingered in his mind for a moment or two until Ron spoke.
"What d'you think Malfoy's doing, trying to get Tamora alone with him? The nerve! I'm going to hex him at the last game of the season."
"Defending your love?" Hermione snarled.
"Shut up, barn owl."
"Toad!"
"Bookworm!"
"Oaf!"
"Showoff!"
Harry closed his mind whilst they walked through the entrance hall, hearing words shouted, but not caring to find out what exactly the words were. If this continued the entire year, Harry may be able to keep up on his studies instead of talking to them... That was a nightmare in itself. Studies? Maybe he could talk to Tamora more often as they fought more often.
He began to feel embarrassed by their incessant yelling, bickering up and down the halls about frivolous things. It was unnerving. As the volume grew, he turned his ears back to their conversation, his mind following shortly after.
"Prude!"
"Ugly, freckle-faced–"
"Buck-toothed, bushy-haired–"
"You're a horrible Quidditch player!"
"You're horrible at everything that doesn't have to do with books!"
Complete sentences, it must be getting worse, thought Harry with an internal groan. Maybe it wasn't worth taking the time to listen to. Then again...
"BEFORE THAT MONEY CAME IN, YOU COULDN'T EVEN AFFORD NEW DRESS ROBES!"
"BEFORE HARRY AND I CAME ALONG, YOU DIDN'T EVEN HAVE FRIENDS!"
"I HATE YOU!"
"I HATE YOU MORE!" roared Ron childishly, ending their fight, for now...
Both stomped off in opposite directions, leaving Harry to walk by himself to the common room. His bed seemed unusually inviting today, but he waited for Ron to arrive none-the-less. It was two o'clock before he stormed into the dormitories and plopping into his bed with a huff.
"Night, Harry," he said rigidly.
...But Harry had just fallen asleep.
A/N: I come back to you now at the turn of the tide. I'VE BEEN OFF FROM SCHOOL SINCE JUNE 16TH! WoOt WoOt! Oh, and I completely forgot to create the spell the first time I posted this. I feel stupid now, because I left in place of the spell "(insert spell here)". Ah well. It's there now, if you have noticed. All right, to answer the reviews.
Ouroboros Vipertooth- Very interesting. I did notice that almost all of the spells are of latin roots. Feraverto. Hm, true, true. I looked up its use in the book, and, another animal (I've forgotten, but I recall it being mentioned) was turned into a pincushion (obviously not crystal; this baffles me). How very odd... THANK YOU! I'm always up for advice and comments. If you find anything else about the spells from the series, please let me know.
BlackBlaze- Also a very intriguing point. I had not found that in the book, though I'm assuming that you did by your review. I'd really like to know where {blanks}... I must have missed it completely. Thank you very much. Coincidentally (or maybe it was fate- FAAAAATE! Bwahahahaaaa), I had already written in a part where Sirius pleaded with Dumbledore to transfer him to Gryffindor because he didn't belong in Slytherin, and Dumbledore granted his request. Well, it's in this chapter and it's in another chapter farther down the road.
Ps: No, really. I'd like to know where... I've searched every book and I must be blind... {spaces out} I think it's the lack of school.
Aimee Damita- Yes, I realized that while proofreading today. I have unintentionally combined too many sentences, making my story a tad confusing. Thanks.
I'm writing to Lady Rumbottom because she's been reading every single chapter since it began, and I just wanted to say... YOU'VE GOT TO FIGHT, FOR YOUR RIGHT, TO PAAARRRRLLLLLEEEEYYYY! Keep on writing!
In celebration of crossing over the fifty-page line in this chapter, I'd like to give to all the readers a few wonderful desktop backgrounds from a truly exceptional Sirius fan one was quite this is a very excellent site called Immeritus, all about Sirius and some about Marauders. I recommend this site to all die-hard Sirius fans such as myself. And now, as part of the Ceremony of Fifty (laughs at 'Giver' novel reference; no one else laughs), I leave you with a few quotes to think on during the summer:
"Elvis isn't dead, he just went home." -Tommy Lee Jones, Men In Black
"E to the Vizzo, I to the Lizzo." -Dr. Evil, Goldmember.
"This parrot is no more! It has ceased to be!" -John Cleese, Monty Python's Flying Circus
"The spark of his life is smothered in shite.
His sprit is gone but his stench remains." -Roland, A Knight's Tale
"We'd be a lot better off if instead of this whole war thing, we simply challenged al Qaeda to send their four best pro wrestlers to fight against three of our pro wrestlers and Leonardo DiCaprio. Not only would we quickly resolve this conflict, we'd get to see Leo beaten with a folding chair." -James Floyd
"Quickly, bring me a beaker of wine, so that I may wet my mind and say something clever." -Aristophanes, 424 B.C.