To Walk Through Fire
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and the characters associated with him. They belong to J.K. Rowling. I am not making money off of this story. So please don't sue.
Chapter XII: Sorrow and Answers
Sirius ran through the deserted halls. The only sound was that of his feet hitting the ground and his heavy gasps for air. He did not stop; the delicate child in his arms could perish at any minute. Despite what the public thought, he was not a murderer and was unable to hurt a child. Nor would he let one die. No matter who that child was. No child deserved to be hurt like this, not even Malfoy's son . . .
Sirius did not bother to slow down as he sped into the doorway of the infirmary. He did not know how Poppy would react to his presence but at the moment he could care less. She would see the necessity of helping the child first. Wouldn't she?
He gently laid the child on the bed, just as the nurse came out of her office.
"I told you Albus, they are –" Her eyes widened as she saw who had dared to enter her domain.
Before the woman could scream for help, Sirius quickly pointed to the bed, where the small child now lay. "He needs your help. I swear I won't do anything, just help him. Please." He begged, hoping that the nurse would listen to him. She had always taken care of their injuries before allowing any teacher to punish them. But would she if there was a convicted murderer beside her? Madam Pomphrey became pale as she stood stock still. Her eyes remained focused on him, as if he were a wolf in the midst of sheep.
"Please he's dying. Help him. I beg you." Sirius pleaded slowly moving backwards to allow more space between him and the nurse.
The woman just kept staring at him. She had to know that he was being serious. She just had to. Sirius backed up some more.
Slowly the nurse nodded, as if she was coming out of a trance.
"Stand over there." The nurse pointed to the other side of the boy's bed. "And don't make any sudden movements." She glared at him. Slowly he moved towards the place where she had pointed, both his hands held in front of him to show that he was not holding a wand. When he reached the boy's side, he slowly and reluctantly pulled out his wand and laid it on the small table near the boy's head. Madame Pomphrey nodded and approached the boy, with her eyes, all the while, on him.
Sirius watched as her complexion went from white to ashen as she began to examine the injured child.
"Great Ravenclaw! What happened to this boy?" She gasped looking up at him accusingly as if she believed that he was the culprit that had caused the boy's condition.
"I don't know." Sirius whispered hoarsely. Could the nurse who had once looked after him for taking the bludger meant for James really believe that he would do such a thing to a child? "Will he live?"
"The older woman looked helplessly at the boy. "I don't know." She pulled out her wand and looked up at the poor child lying motionlessly on the bed. "Reducio." She whispered over the boy. "That will keep the fever down for a while." She muttered to herself, though Sirius could hear her.
"What's that he's holding?" She suddenly asked him, pointing to the small thin object that the boy was curled around. Sirius slowly moved forward, so as not to alert the nurse and gently pried the object from the boy's weak grasp. Both he and the nurse looked at the object in surprise.
"It's a wand." Sirius muttered. It wasn't the fact that there was a wand that shocked him, it was the wand itself. It looked so familiar and yet he could not place whose it was. Dread welled up in the pit of his stomach as he gently placed the wand beside his own. Why was the wand so familiar? And who was this boy? What had happened to him?
Madame Pomphrey began whispering rapid fire spells that seemed to, if nothing else, ease the boy's breathing. She muttered a spell that Sirius recognized as a cleaning spell, one that Lily had used on Harry when he had made a mess. No don't think about them now. Padfoot ignored his memories and concentrated on the boy. His gut instincts were screaming at him to stay with the boy, that this child was the key to finding his son.
His thoughts were broken when he heard Pomphrey loudly mutter a different cleaning spell. He realized suddenly as he looked back at the boy that the spell was not working. The boy's face was still caked with mud that seemed to be resisting every attempt to remove it. The nurse looked at him then back at the boy. "*Aquo." She muttered and a bowl full of fresh water appeared in her hands. She transfigured two flowers beside the bed into two cloths and motioned for him to take one. "We need to clean him up before I do anything else. I need to see the extent of his injuries. He'll live, I fixed the worst of his injuries and stalled his fever for now." She muttered almost helplessly. "I haven't seen anyone in his condition before. Quick let's get him cleaned up then I'll be able to heal the rest of his injuries."
Sirius took the cloth from the offering hand and dipped into the warm water. Gently he began on the boy's face, patiently removing the dirt and grime that hid most of the boy's features. Slowly the mud came off. The more dirt removed from the boy, the more familiar the boy looked. But who did the boy look like? Sirius could not quite place that face.
The most frightening thing about it was the bruises that covered the boy's face. Even as he and Pomphrey removed the grime ugly purple, blue and yellow spots appeared. The worst was the one on the boy's cheek that, suspiciously enough, seemed like a handprint. That bruise looked painful, although it had started to change colours, as if it were days old. It made Sirius wonder what had happened to the poor boy. Deep inside he hoped that Harry had not had to suffer the same treatment as this boy had.
What if this boy was Harry? Sirius quickly shoved that thought away. There was no way this boy was Harry, he did not even closely resemble his son. Unless . . . No! This boy looked far to young to be Harry.
Sirius shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind. He refused to dwell on them. He dipped the cloth into the warm water, which never seemed to become dirty, and moved to clear the last bit of dirt from the boy's forehead when the school nurse gasped.
Sirius Black had seen many awful things during Voldemort's rise, especially as an Auror. However none of his experiences could prepare him for what was revealed beneath the child's shirt. Somehow the nurse had managed to roll the boy over so that he lay on his back and removed his shirt without Sirius noticing. Now Sirius wished he had not heard her gasp. What was revealed beneath the boy's shirt was enough to make any seasoned veteran turn green. The boy's ribs seemed to be the only thing holding his skin in position. Every single rib prodded out revealing that the boy was starving. The boy couldn't have had a decent meal in weeks. That was not the worst of it. The crooked angles of the ribs were horrifying. It was a miracle none of the grotesquely bent ribs had pieced the boy's lungs. The skin, which looked to have been stretched over the ribs, was coloured with bruises and lacerations that looked to have been made, suspiciously enough from a whip. There was no doubt in Sirius' mind anymore. The boy had been abused. And not by Voldemort. Although Voldemort was cruel, he would not torment a child so, the Dark Lord did not use his fists to beat a child, even a wizard, no he would have used dark curses instead. Where had the boy come from? And who had caused those wounds?
Did the boy have any family?
Sirius hoped that it had not been the boy's family who had done this to him.
The boy had appeared on the same day as Snape and Alexander. Did that mean the boy had been in Azkaban? No. The boy wouldn't have been beaten there. The guards were cruel to the prisoners, taunting them, but every prisoner was mostly left alone, with food.
Which lead him right back to the beginning. Where had this boy come from? What had happened to him? And who was he?
"He was beaten." Madame Pomphrey muttered, once again breaking Sirius out of his reverie. He mentally kicked himself for not being aware. He needed to stop letting his mind wander. But two nights with little sleep were taking a toll on him. He looked up at the nurse and realized that she had turned even more ashen than before. He hoped that she would not faint.
Somehow the witch managed to shake off her shock and began muttering a variety of healing spells that seemed to do their job. The boy's ribs took their proper shapes – Sirius winced as each one popped back into position, from experience he knew it hurt, a lot – and the bruises faded away, as did the lacerations, leaving small white scars behind. Both adults looked at one another sympathy and sorrow radiating in both their eyes for the poor boy. Sirius hoped that the boy had fallen unconscious long before his tormentor had stopped, it would have been far kinder that way.
Feeling helpless, Sirius went back to rinsing off the boy's face. The water, still warm, easily washed the last bit of dirt from the boy's forehead.
Sirius gasped as his eyes saw what had just been revealed . . .
***************
Dear Hagrid,
I hope that this letter finds you safe. I am sincerely sorry to inform you that Harry Potter has died. Please Hagrid do not do anything rash. And please continue your quest, it is of the utmost importance for all those who remain. It would have been what Harry wanted.
Sincerely
Albus Dumbledore
Rubeus Hagrid read the letter over again. And once again, just in case he had missed something that had been written between the lines. But no more words revealed themselves in the flickering light of the candles. The letter looked the same as it had when he had received it late last night, except for several small creases where it had been crumpled.
Hagrid let out a great mournful cry that sounded very much like a wolf crying to the moon. He felt tears roll down his face, but he didn't care. Harry was dead. Gone. Forever. Sobs racked his body as he curled up, rocking himself back and forth. He could hear the sound of his companion trying to calm him down, but he ignored her. It did not matter. Nothing she said could change anything. Harry was dead.
Gone.
He'd never come to his hut again to have tea and rock cakes. Never again would Hagrid see the young boy's smiling face. James and Lily's legacy was gone.
Forever.
His whole body shook with his sobs. He had been unable to help the boy. He should have. Somehow. He could have helped him. Harry was too young to die. He had never really had a life. He should have been able to graduate from Hogwarts, get married and grow old watching his children and grandchildren. He was not supposed to die. Heroes always lived. And even if Harry would never admit it, he was a hero. So why had he died? Why did everything have to end like this?
Why did everything always happen to Harry? First one thing and now this. But this wasn't reversible. Harry would never come back. He would never see the boy again. And he didn't even have the chance to say his final farewell. There was much that he wished he had told the boy. Funny stories about his parents. And even one about his godfather. And about the time that Fang had run away from a tiny mouse when he was a puppy. And . . .How much he truly felt for him, that he cared for Harry.
Another shuddering breath left his body. He wanted . . . Harry back. He should have fought Dumbledore to allow Harry to stay at Hogwarts. He always knew it was dangerous for Harry to go home to those muggles he called relatives. And with Voldemort back, it was even more dangerous. Harry would have been much safer at Hogwarts.
" 'Agrid. Please listen." He heard a soft voice murmur into his ear. " 'Agrid, it's alright."
" 'e's gone." Hagrid sobbed into his large hands. " 'e's dead. Jus' like Lily an' James. Jus' like my dad."
"Whoze gone 'Agrid?" The voice whispered softly to him, as its owner ran a hand up and down his back.
" 'Arry. 'e's gone. Forever." The half-giant's words were slurred as he spoke, but his companion seemed to understand them, for she pulled him closer and kept rubbing his back in a soothing motion like a mother would do for her distressed child. Or like his father had done for him many years ago.
Hagrid heard someone enter their hut, but he didn't care. The other giants could go over to Voldemort for all he . . . No. Harry would have wanted him to help save everyone. Harry would have wanted him to continue his mission and not give up, no matter what. Harry had never wanted him to give up on anything. Even after that horrible disaster last year when he had received all that hate mail from people who didn't want a half-giant teaching their children Harry had cared. Harry, and his friends had helped him move on.
"Please go away." He told both the woman who sat beside him and the new arrival between sobs. He heard the soft shuffle of clothing and the door click softly shut. When he looked up through his tears there was no one there. Both Madame Maxine and the visitor had left him alone.
He would not give up on his mission. He would carry on. They had almost succeeded.
But not tonight.
Tonight he would mourn a good friend.
***************
No! It wasn't possible. Sirius refused to believe it. But the mark was there, and it was definitely not coming off. It was no hoax.
"Harry?" He whispered softly, slowly. It was as if in naming the boy he was accepting what his eyes saw, allowing most of the puzzle pieces to fall into place.
The wand. It was Harry's. That was why it had looked so familiar.
And the boy's features, they were familiar for they were very similar to that of the image he had seen the mirror when he was Harry's age – although Harry looked more like Sirius had after he left Azkaban with his gaunt cheeks, and the bags under his eyes.
Sirius felt a tear fall down his cheek. This was his son. He had found him. Had it been under different circumstances Sirius would have rejoiced in seeing the boy. But now he wished that this boy was another man's son and that his own boy had somehow escaped Azkaban unscathed.
But no.
The truth was written clearly in front of him if he opened his eyes and saw it. The lightening bolt scar only proved the point further. Harry was undoubtedly his and Lily's son. The boy looked so much like him, and yet he could see so much of his wife in their son.
Oh Lily.
She would have been horrified to see their son in such a state. How could he have allowed this to happen to his son? It was his fault. He should have broken the boy out of Azkaban. At least then the boy would not look so starved. But the bruises were from somewhere else.
The Dursleys.
Those muggles had beaten his son. And not just with their fists from the looks of it, but also with a belt. Sirius felt anger rising in him. Had the Dursleys still been alive, he would have been tempted to take revenge on them for the injustices they had done to his son. Although the news reports had said that the boy – wasn't his name Dudley – had escaped alive . . .
NO!
The last time he had tried to take revenge he had ended up going to prison, leaving his son alone for years without love and proper care.
He wouldn't do it again.
Never.
If his son did not want him as a father, the least he would do was make sure that Harry was staying in a place where people cared for him.
Harry probably did not want him as a father.
What kind of father failed to save their son from prison? Or from his own relatives? What kind of father was an escaped convict?
Gently Sirius placed down the cloth he realized he was crushing and took the boys small hand in his own. Now that he had found his son he was unsure of exactly what to do. He would remain beside his son until he woke – that was obvious to even the most oblivious person. But after that?
And now that the spells had worn off around Harry, he would need to be told the truth. Would the boy accept him? What would happen now that the truth was revealed?
Most importantly would his son be alright? He did not know what he would do if Harry really did die. Not now. Not when he had just found the boy again. He dared not squeeze the boy's hand harder, but he wished he could have. Or held his son protectively against him.
"Sirius please let go of his hand." Madame Pomphrey said kindly seeming to realize that the boy was important to him. "I need to roll him over onto his back to see what damage was done there." Sirius nodded woodenly and let go of Harry's bony hand. With the help of a spell the nurse managed to roll the boy over without causing the child to move anymore than necessary.
What the adults say on the boy's back was even more horrifying than the boys chest. Large cuts, and bruises covered the boy's back. The cuts looked to have been made from a whip. Sirius felt heated rage grow within him at the Dursleys. They had hurt his son. They had nearly killed his child, probably without a second thought at what they were doing . . .
Sirius quickly pushed those thoughts away. He could not do anything about the Dursleys they were gone.
They did not matter anymore.
Harry did.
Sirius watched in a daze as Madame Pomphrey healed the boy's back. The wounds slowly faded away, the only remainder of their existence was the image burned in Sirius memory and the small white scars left behind. As soon as the wounds had been healed, the nurse flipped the small child onto his back again. Sirius once again took his son's hand, unable to stop himself from touching the small boy.
"Will he be alright?" Sirius asked the nurse, who now held a small potion in her hand.
The school nurse studied him. Their eyes met. Her eyes, which had gone cold when she had first seen him, suddenly warmed up to him. "Physically he will heal, although it will take some time. Those injuries were healed magically and his body needs to catch up. He probably won't wake up for a few days at least. At most he will sleep for a week. I have to bring his fever under control, and we will need to force feed him until he wakes up. Eventually though, he will heal physically. By the end of the summer he should be running about." A kindness he had not seen for a long time crept into her eyes.
He felt reassured at her words. Harry would be fine. He would heal. Suddenly he realized what she had not said. "You said physically . . .What . . .what about mentally?" Sirius asked afraid of what her answer might be.
"I honestly don't know. Harry is a strong boy, he's pulled through some pretty bad situations before. Just be there to support him, that's what he needs from all of us." With that she unstopped the small vial that she held in her hands. "I'm going to need your help to lift his head for me please." She told him in a business-like fashion. Sirius nodded and carefully lifted the boy's upper body and head up so that the nurse could pour the potion down his throat.
"You called him Harry." Sirius stated slowly. He hoped that the nurse would not tell anyone, if Voldemort ever found out . . .
"So did you. Sirius Black, he may look like you now, but he still has a scar exactly like Harry Potter did, not to mention the fact that you did whisper his name." She looked him straight in the eye. "I will not tell anyone who he is. It is confidential as he is a patient of mine. You however, I cannot ignore. If you are still here by the time Professor Dumbledore gets here, I will not defend you. He should be here very shortly."
Sirius knew that she was trying to do him a kindness, letting him leave the school grounds without being apprehended but he knew that Albus would not send him to Azkaban. He was relatively safe here. Right where he was.
"Thank you." He told the nurse. Then his eyes went back to his son.
He wished that Harry had never had to live with the Dursleys, that his son had grown up with the family he deserved. He knew it was never going to happen, no matter how hard he wished. Now all he could do was hope that Harry would accept him as family.
"Harry, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry." He whispered to his son, gently removing a stray lock of hair that had fallen into the boy's eyes.
He was so enthralled by his son that he did not notice the nurse pulling the screen around the boy's bed. Nor did he notice when the old headmaster came and stood behind him.
***************
Remus groaned as he rolled over on the hard ground. The aftertaste of blood was strong in his mouth. He looked down at his shabby robes, which were also covered in blood. His face went pale. He hoped he hadn't eaten anyone. He did not remember catching anyone, but his memory of being a werewolf was always sketchy at best. Remus looked around for the source of the blood. Padfoot would have kept him from eating any humans, he was sure of that, so what was it he had eaten. Then he spotted the remainders of what looked like a large white rabbit lying on the forest floor.
Moony let out a sigh of relief. He had not eaten a human. Padfoot must have sent him on the trail of the rabbit.
Padfoot! Suddenly Remus realized that his old friend was not anywhere around him. Usually after a transformation Sirius would always be around, and would help him to bed, where he could rest. Now there was no sign of Sirius anywhere. From his position on the ground, he could only see a few paw prints that could only belong to a werewolf. So where was Sirius and what had happened last night that had caused his friend to leave him? Had Padfoot found more information on Harry?
Remus forced himself to think back to the night before. He had run into the Forbidden Forest and was followed, not five minutes later by Padfoot. They had been playing around – Remus couldn't exactly remember what they had been playing, probably one of the old games that the Marauders used to play with one another during their late night adventures – and then Remus had smelt something. He had followed the trail to . . .a corpse. No, that wasn't right. It had been alive. He remembered the sound of its fragile heart beat, that had sounded so wonderful the night before. Remus felt his heart catch in his throat. He had not eaten it had he? He forced himself to remember harder. No he hadn't. Padfoot had stopped him. Then he ran off. And . . .He couldn't remember the rest of the night, but he suspected that he had spent it chasing the rabbit.
Sirius must have taken the human back to Hogwarts so that Madame Pomphrey could heal him. The only way Sirius would have made it into the hospital ward with a body in tow would be if he was human . . .That meant that Poppy must have realized that . . . Oh no! The ministry could have caught Padfoot while he had sat there chewing on a rabbit. Remus jumped up from where he lay and, ignoring his sore limbs, began running in the general direction he believed Hogwarts to be in.
He would not allow his friend to be sent to prison. Not again. He would not lose his friend again. This time he would fight the ministry for Sirius' freedom. Even if it demanded that he deny the existence of Voldemort, or . . . He would do anything, just as long as it would free his friend.
His friend who had a son to look after.
Remus stumbled a bit on a branch that stood in his path. The story that Sirius had told him the day before came flying back into his mind. It was a wonder that Sirius had even told them his story. He must have trusted Albus and Remus more than either of them ever suspected. In telling them the truth, he had put both his and Harry's lives in more danger than before.
Harry.
He hoped that they were able to find Harry before it was too late.
Wait.
Remus' brilliant mind suddenly began making connections. Snape and Alexander had appeared at the same time, around the time that Azkaban had been attacked. As had that child – yes he remembered it had been a child, the human was too small to be anything else. Therefore the only logical idea was if all three of them must have come from Azkaban. The only child that Remus knew was in Azkaban was . . .Harry. That meant that the child must have been Harry.
And the child had had a faint heart beat . . .
Remus almost tripped on another tree branch as that revelation hit him. He had suspected that if Harry survived Azkaban he would have been in bad shape. But that child had been close to death. Moony had almost been able to smell death clinging to the boy's body. It would only be a matter of time before the child had died.
Please let Sirius have been on time. Please let Padfoot have saved him. The mantra ran through his mind even as Remus forced his feet to keep moving. He felt so tired. Usually he never had to go this far after a transformation. Being already close to exhaustion, Remus knew that he would collapse soon if he did not rest. He did not stop however, he knew that he would not be able to rest easy knowing that Harry could possibly be dead at that very moment. Instead of thinking about himself, Remus focused on what he had seen the night before.
He had smelt blood. That was one of the reasons why he had run towards Harry in the first place. That meant that Harry had been wounded. The worry he felt for Harry increased. Although Sirius was trained in rough healing, he might not have been able to distinguish the smell of blood from the smell of Azkaban. He hoped that the boy had not lost too much blood. Sirius could not have been that far away from Hogwarts. The boy would have lasted.
And Madame Pomphrey would have healed the boy before she did anything about Sirius. Or at least that's what Remus hoped that she would do.
The lycanthrope looked up in front of him and realized that he could see Hogwarts through the trees. He had almost made it back. Just a little further and then he would be able to rest. Being a werewolf did have its perks, one of which included extra endurance and strength. Using that extra endurance, Remus managed to dash to the front doors of the castle, where he nearly collapsed.
Gasping for air he dragged the front doors opened and forced himself to walk through them. As he entered the school, the doors shut behind him it was almost as if they realized that he did not have the strength to close them. Unable to run anymore, Remus began slowly walking down the halls towards the infirmary.
Even as he reached the entrance to the medical ward he could feel his strength begin to give out. Any moment and he knew that he would collapse. He slowly walked into the room and down the aisle towards the curtained area, where he knew that he would discover if the boy had lived through the night. Remus slowly moved through the curtains. Only to be met with the sight of a small boy on the bed.
Upon the boy's forehead was the tell-tale scar that immediately revealed the boy's identity to him. So he had been right. But was the boy alive. Remus' eyes traveled to the boy's chest where saw it slowly rise and fall again.
The boy was alive.
Remus smiled. That was when his strength gave out completely.
And he collapsed onto the ground.
"Remus!"
He tried to open his mouth to speak, but his world turned into darkness.
***************
"Remus!" He heard a familiar voice yell. The sound echoed around in his head, bring a pounding pain with it. It felt as if someone had decided to use his head as an anvil and was still pounding away at it, unaware that he was awake. The soft sounds of shoes on the stone floor send his world into agony once again. Even the soft sound of whispered voices hurt his poor abused head. He had certainly felt worse than this before, but that did not make the pain go away.
Or make it any better.
Concentrating on his breathing, like he had done so many times before, the man managed to dull the agony raging in his head. He wondered where he was, and what had happened this time. It could not have been Voldemort, unless he had hit his head on something sharp when he was under the Cruciatus curse. No. It could not have been Voldemort. The Dark Lord had been busy preparing for the raid on Azkaban . . .
Azkaban! He had been to Azkaban to rescue Harry. And Alexander had been there. With sudden clarity he remembered everything that had happened last night . . .Or had that been two nights ago. Severus did not know. Time had no meaning in the world of darkness. Then he remembered waking up at Azkaban. Cold. With a bad headache, and rocks in his stomach. Something important had happened after that. What had it been? He remembered staggering up towards Hogwarts like a drunken man, it seeming too far away to reach. Somehow he had ended on the ground near something solid . . . A human . . .Harry! It had been Harry. The boy had made it to Hogwarts.
Severus sat up quickly.
And immediately regretted it. His world spun around several times. Fiery agony ran through his head. He did not know how long he sat there with his eyes clenched shut, but eventually the pain slowly dulled back to how it had been.
Slowly he opened his eyes. The pain did not return back in full force, but remained as it was. He quickly took in his surroundings . . .
And realized he was in the hospital wing.
Not again. He would have groaned in frustration, but decided against it. All that work on his plan and he still ended up in this place. Severus grimaced. He would not stay there a moment longer than necessary. It did not even take him a millisecond to decide that he had stayed here long enough already.
Carefully, so as not to jar any of his injuries further, Severus slipped out of the hard bed. He did not bother looking around. Pomphrey would not have let him get up so far had she noticed that he was still awake. As far as he could discern there was no one else in the hospital wing except for three others who were probably unconscious, being hidden by curtains as they were. Severus ignored them.
He had to go to Albus and find out what had happened.
And then he would go to his rooms where he would spend the rest of the summer alone.
Yes that is exactly what he would do. But a gut instinct told him that the worst was not over yet, and he would be needed before the week was out.
***************
Some people called her mad. Others eccentric. Personally she did not care either way. They could keep their opinions to themselves thank you very much. Their opinions were not worth much anyway, especially when they could not see what was right in front of their faces.
Like the truth.
The people believed that she was capable of roasting stray children over pits. Honestly. As if she had nothing else better to do. Well at least that kept the children away. She did not think she could deal with their curious nature and inquisitive ways.
She picked up her warm tea and walked over to the balcony. It was such a nice morning. The only way it would be enjoyed was if she was out there to share it with the world. Without the bugs of course – several repelling charms solved that problem, much better than the muggles' useless sprays and zappers. Before she left the room, she picked up the early morning paper that the owl had delivered not more than half an hour ago. She wondered what was in it this time. Not even she, as eccentric as she was, could concoct such stories as the Daily Prophet reporters were.
Honestly. Harry Potter as a Death Eater! They were off their rockers. The boy could no more become a Death Eater than she would roast young children. Had those people not been reading what they boy had done during the Triwizard tournament, although half that was fiction as well. But still . . .The boy's parents had been killed by Voldemort – why people refused to say his name she didn't know – not to mention the fact that all the boy's decent family members – being Lily and James – had been taken away by the Dark Lord. His relatives, she believed from the rumors she had heard about the Dursleys, that they were nasty and generally cruel to the poor child. Though she wasn't prone to rumors, she couldn't help believing that those rumors were true.
Gracefully she sat down in her comfortable lawn chair that sat in view of the horizon, and spread the newspaper out of the table. Although she really did not like rumors, and seemed to care less about the world around her, she knew more about current events than most normal wizarding families. No one ever really visited her, and she was lonely – although she would never admit that to anyone, much less herself – and the newspapers were a way of keeping the loneliness at bay.
The headline of the newspaper made her choke on her morning tea, spilling half of it all over her clean balcony.
'The Boy Who Lived and Died'
Now that was an interesting headline – and fictitious story. Somehow she highly doubted that the headmaster of Hogwarts School, who seemed to have a soft spot for the boy, would allow the child to die. She would bet her house and freedom that the headmaster had the boy hidden away somewhere, perhaps right under the ministry's nose.
She looked back at the article and began to read.
'The Boy Who Lived and Died'
Special Correspondence by David Surr
It has been announced late last night that Harry James Potter, known to wizarding kind as the Boy Who Lived has died. His death will be mourned by many who truly believed that the boy was innocent of the crimes he was charged with earlier this week. (Pointless, it was pointless the man was just adding extra words to make his article sound so much better, she skipped to the next paragraph).
His cause of death has not been disclosed to the public as of yet, however, this reporter has discovered that it was caused by none other than the newly risen 'Dark Lord' who is believed to be, by the ministry, the escaped convict Sirius Black. As to why the man would wish to kill one of his most loyal followers is indiscernible. Perhaps the boy refused to do something for his godfather and so the man went off the edge and killed the boy who once saved us.
The Ministry says they are deeply saddened by the boy's death. They had never planned for anything like this to happen, Harry Potter was not supposed to die. The ministry will hold a public service for the boy on Saturday at 1:00 pm for those who wish to say farewell to the boy who caused He Who Must Not Be Named's downfall all those years ago.
Minister Fudge will be at this ceremony. His only comment to the press was that Harry Potter was no longer who the public saw him as, and that the boy had truly turned to the other side. However he says that during the memorial he would like to remember the boy who defeated You Know Who, and not the boy who Mr. Potter became.
"Toasted Toads**!" She muttered into her cup, sipping the tea that remained in the bottom. "People actually believe this stuff?!" That was a bunch of fluff if she ever saw any. How anyone could believe any of those lies was beyond her. Of course Fudge wouldn't mourn Harry's death. He was a fool, and incompetent Minister. She wondered when people would realize that. Probably not until it was too late.
She knew that it was rubbish. She just hoped the poor child was safely hidden somewhere. Away from Voldemort – how could anyone believe that this 'dark lord' was anyone but Voldemort? – and from the curious, brainless public that seemed not to realize the truth. How could they not see that Harry was innocent of the crimes he was charged? And Sirius Black as well, the 'convicted murderer' sounded too loyal to her to just get up and kill his friend – although the articles about him made him seem quite mad. Not that she would believe anything written on those pages.
Slowly she flipped over the page. She wondered what other fantasy stories the ministry had made up. As she began reading the next article, she started to giggle, which became full-fledged laughter. The ministry was really growing desperate to keep their secrets hidden.
***************
End chapter 12
* Aquo for my purposes will mean water
** This phrase does not belong to me, it belongs to Terry Goodkind (in "Wizard's First Rule").
A/N: Thank you so much to all those who reviewed! J It really does help when people review, even if they just as for more. So please do review and tell me what you think of this chapter. And if anyone has ideas for what should happen next please do tell me I've hit a writer's block and I need a few more ideas to break it. Please forgive me for the lack of spells, I know next to no Latin, although I would love to learn. So please do forgive me for that. Thank you.
usa32: I hope that this chapter did not take too long to come out. I know that it took a long while for the last one to come out and I am sorry. I finish the chapters as quickly as possible, but this semester the teachers seem to like giving homework and I've been busy finishing that. I hope that you enjoyed this chapter and I hope that it answered your questions. As to the letters that Dumbledore sent out, one went to Fudge and the others went to the Weasleys – and yes it was when they thought that Harry was dead. Although I didn't put it the story, he also wrote one to Hagrid later on so when Hagrid received the newspaper he wouldn't break down, as you see in this chapter, and Fudge told the news to the newspaper and the ministry. Well Harry is finally at Hogwarts, it took him a while, but he made it there – in one piece to! I am glad that you liked Percy's part that took a while to write. Do you have any ideas on how Fudge should "fall"? I have my own, but I'd love
to hear other's opinions about it. Thank you so much for reviewing.
SiriusBPadfoot: Well this time I did update and make Sirius realize it. I hope you liked it. And don't worry, I won't leave forever. I plan on finishing the story, even if it does take a while. Thank you so much for reviewing.
Zorra Reed: Thank you so much! I hope that this chapter was alright.
Amy Potter 13: I don't like Fudge very much, as you can tell from the story, and he will get his due in time. What do you think should happen to him? Although I have my own ideas of that, I would love to hear yours. Thank you so much for reviewing.
BlackMoon: Your right it was Harry. I didn't think I could be cruel much longer and leave him all alone in the woods. Thank you, I'm glad that you like my writing. Please review and tell me what you thought of this chapter.
Sakura Le: I'm sorry it took so long to get the last chapter out, I hope it didn't take too long for this chapter to come out. Hopefully the next one will be out much faster. Well they found Harry. Now all he needs to do is wake up. What a mess that's going to be when it happens! Between Harry's experience in Azkaban and with his 'family' and Sirius' story. That's going to be very interesting to write. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.
geordie lass 4eva: Thank you so much! J I hope that you enjoyed this chapter.
Anneliese: Thank you. I hope this did not take too long to come out and I hope that this chapter was OK it was difficult to write, especially Sirius' part, but I think he's in character. Thank you for your wonderful review.
angel cloud: Thank you so much for your review. I hope that the wait for this chapter wasn't too long.
Satans lil sis: You don't like Fudge either? Do you have any ideas on how he could be humiliated in front of the wizarding world? I would love to hear someone else's ideas on that.
Jordan: I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. As to who is with Fudge I can't tell you that yet. You'll find out soon, very soon, probably within the next two chapters. Thank you so much for reviewing.
nic: Thank you J I'm glad you like this story. I hope that you liked this chapter.
FireBird9900: I'm glad that you did review, even if it wasn't right away. I'm glad to hear from you. Yes you were right the boy was Harry. I wouldn't think that any children would be put into Azkaban – other than Harry. Yes the spell did weak off and so Sirius did not recognize his son immediately, as you saw in this chapter. I hope my explanation for the glamorie spells are alright and not too ridiculous – about being close to death or dead, I thought they made a little sense, and I didn't want to use everyone else's idea that the spell would wear off when Harry was a certain age, so I came up with that idea. After I read your review I was thinking of changing the boy's identity to being someone like Alexander's son, but I decided against it everything was already set up for it being Harry, and so I decided to keep it as it was. I hope that it is OK how it is. Was this chapter alright?
A/N: At the risk of repeating myself too many times thank you all for your wonderful reviews. Please review and tell me what you think of this chapter.