In chapter six of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix titled "The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black," Uncle Alphard is mentioned for the first and only time. J.K. Rowling noted that he left Sirius "a decent bit of gold—he's been wiped off the family tree too…" With just that very short description, I created a whole history that might never surface in the books. I hope you can follow along. wink wink
I do not own anything that somebody else owns.
Chapter 29: Death and Discussion
Harry was sitting outside on the cold, stone steps of Hogwarts. The torrential rain and the howling wind would have made anyone dash inside. Harry didn't mind the cold, though. To be truthful, he didn't feel it, really. His five senses were lost at the moment. He could not feel the cold and drenched clothes hugging his body. The luscious smell of damp wood and grass never reached his nose. His tongue stayed dry in his mouth, never opening it for a few droplets of rich rain. His mind failed to comprehend the sound of raindrops splashing in nearby puddles. His eyes never saw the beautiful scenery surrounding him. All that he aware of was only replaying in his mind: his trip to Dumbledore's office only a few hours ago.
FlashbackHarry found himself standing in front of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's office.
"Chocolate Frogs," Harry heard himself say, though never realized that he was speaking or how he knew the correct password. The gargoyle leapt aside, revealing a stone staircase that was continuously moving upwards like a spiral escalator. Without really comprehending why, Harry walked forward, stepping onto the moving staircase. Moments later he was standing in front of a pair of rich, oak doors with a brass knocker shaped like a griffin. He heard faint humming and pacing footsteps from inside.
Harry knocked.
A few moments later, the doorknob jiggled before opening. Dumbledore's face came into Harry's view. The Headmaster looked surprised to see a student at his door. "Good evening, Mr. Thewler."
"Wha—oh, yeah." Harry turned slightly pink. Dumbledore did not look much older than he did in the future. So when Harry saw the Headmaster, he had expected Dumbledore to call him Harry, or at least Mr. Potter. He was used to the name Thewler from his teachers and friends, but hearing Dumbledore call him that had unruffled Harry.
"Come in," said Dumbledore, stepping aside and opening the door wider. He pointed to a chair. "I hope everything is all right."
"Yes," lied Harry. He paused, waiting for Dumbledore to sit down at his desk. Harry just leaned against the back of a chair, never sitting down. "Actually, I need to talk to you about that Life-Alter… the one that's going to bring me and Hermione home."
"What?" asked Sirius, thinking he misheard James.
"Your Uncle Alphard," repeated James, "was killed."
"What?" asked Sirius, though he heard James correctly. His head swam in a large wave of emotions. Uncle Alphard couldn't be dead. Sirius had just received an owl from him a week previous. They actually had plans together this summer, away from the rest of the family. They were going to search for a place for Sirius. Uncle Alphard dead? But he was the good family relative, along with the Tonks. Uncle Alphard was a rebel, too, just like Sirius. That's why they got along so well. Both disagreed with the "family values." At the annual Black dinner party two years before during the summer, the twosome had ruined the dinner by enchanting all the food to insult its eater. Killed?
"Sirius, sit down, would you?" said James quietly.
Sirius obeyed, still lost in his thoughts.
Uncle Alphard was the only reason Sirius attended family gatherings, so he could mock the rest of the family along with his Uncle. Sirius would back up Uncle Alphard when he got in a row with Mrs. Black, vice versa. Uncle Alphard was all the family Sirius had. Without him, Sirius felt like he had no more blood relatives. Killed?
Sirius looked down at his hands to where the envelope was. On the cover were two words written in black ink: Sirius Black. With shaking hands, he flipped it over, undid the fastening, and pulled out the parchment.
"Your Uncle was killed," said James slowly, "by Death Eaters." Sirius didn't look up, but kept his eyes focused on the letter. They were completely still. "It turns out he had been trying to save a Muggle-born child from certain death, and got hit in the crossfire." James looked upon his friend with doe-like eyes. "The kid died afterwards and the Death Eaters got away."
The fire hissed sadly in the hearth and outside the clouds' teardrops splattered the windowpane. Other than that, the room was in complete silence. After a long, stretched moment, Sirius focused his eyes once again on the letter. "They're holding a small funeral for him," he croaked. "It's tonight…." He stared at James. "I have to go."
"I know," said James. He pulled his Invisibility Cloak out from behind his back and held it out. "Go to Hogsmeade to the Three Broomsticks, and ask Madam Rosmerta if you can use their Floo Powder. Tell her it's an emergency. I'll cover for you here."
"Thanks, James." Sirius grabbed the cloak from his friend. "I don't know when I'll be back, so don't wait up," he said to both James and Hermione. Sirius nodded once before walking out of the common room.
James turned to Hermione, but before he could get a word out of his mouth, someone else came down the stairs. "I heard you screaming Sirius's name, Prongs," said Remus. "What's wrong?" He looked around to see doleful faces. "What happened?" he asked more urgently.
"Sirius's Uncle Alphard was killed," said James quietly. "Sirius just left to go to the funeral."
"He was killed?" repeated Remus, dreading James's explanation.
"By Death Eaters," said James.
Remus winced. "I just hope Sirius doesn't do anything rash." James nodded.
Hermione, at the moment, felt completely lost. First of all, who was this Uncle Alphard? He wasn't on the Black Family Tree back at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, but then again, a few names looked as if they had been blasted off. Also, was Sirius's Uncle an Auror? Is that why he died?
"I wish I could go with him," said James, gazing at the portrait hole.
"Why didn't you?" asked Remus.
"A Potter going to a Black funeral isn't the best idea, is it?" said James sourly. "And besides, I think Sirius needs some time alone, or at least with some blood relatives."
"Like who?" asked Remus bitterly. "I wouldn't be surprised if Sirius was one of few who attended."
"The Tonks will be there," explained James. "They are the ones organizing the funeral. They have a little girl several years old, too, named her something like Nymphsgalore." (Remus left out a tiny chuckle.) "Sirius will get to meet her."
"Let's hope," said Remus. He glanced to his left to find Hermione staring intently at her shoes. "Do you know who Sirius's Uncle is?" Hermione shook her head. "But you know that Sirius doesn't get along with his family, right?" Hermione nodded. "Well, Uncle Alphard and Sirius had the same set of ideas. They were both against all this pureblood nonsense. So, naturally, Sirius and his Uncle got along great and weren't so friendly to their other relatives."
"And now Sirius is probably feeling that he has lost the last of his blood relatives," said James.
All three stood in a dead silent triangle, their eyes darting from one to the other. Without saying it, they knew they were thinking the same thing: What a horrible way to end Christmas Day.
Flashback
"Is there any way to speed up the process of making and getting the Life-Alter?" Harry asked Dumbledore.
"Do you feel that you need to leave sooner?" asked Dumbledore. "Because if that's what you feel, you and Hermione can always be sent away from Hogwarts until it's ready, if it is necessary."
"No, that won't be necessary," said Harry. "It's just that… being in this time is becoming a bit too…"
"Painful?"
Harry looked at Dumbledore, taken aback at his accuracy. "One could put it that way." Harry sighed. He couldn't do this while standing, so he finally sat down in the chair Dumbledore had offered him at first. Immediately, Harry felt better about talking to Dumbledore. "I know what is going to happen to people here in the future. There are people I know that are going to die by my real time. Can't I prevent it from happening?"
"I'm afraid that I cannot use any information you give me dealing with the future, nor can you give it to anyone else here," said Dumbledore solemnly. "It will shape the future, no doubt about that, but into what? You must understand that one death can help the world."
"I understand better than you would think," mumbled Harry.
Sirius arrived at the funeral on time, though it didn't look like it at first. There was hardly anyone there. A handful of people were some of Uncle Alphard's friends and coworkers. The only relatives there were Andromeda and Ted Tonks, with their little girl, Nymphadora. Sirius walked over to them.
"Am I early?" asked Sirius quietly.
"No, Siri," said Andromeda with a slight smile. "You're right on time." She hugged Sirius. He hugged her back. Both looked quite similar in some ways. They each had the Black aristocratic look, though there was a hint of rebel in them. Andromeda had her beautiful black hair tied up in a messy bun. "How is my favourite cousin doing?"
"I've been better," said Sirius truthfully. "And yourself?"
Andromeda smiled. "This little one has been giving me a little trouble." She patted the hair of a young girl standing beside her. The girl, only six or seven years old, had brown, curly hair with stunningly blue eyes. As soon as Nymphadora looked at Sirius, though, her hair turned a sleek black and her eyes turned into pure grey orbs: she was an exact younger female version of Sirius. "Yes, she's a little Metamorphmagus. Every time she meets someone new, she changes her appearance. Isn't that right, little Nymphadora."
"Well, I think she's adorable," said Sirius, ruffling up the young girl's black hair. Nymphadora smiled.
"Oddly enough, she doesn't respond often to her name," said Andromeda offhandedly. The young girl, as soon as her mother turned away, stuck out her tongue in disgust. Sirius caught this and chuckled quietly.
Ted Tonks moved towards the two Blacks. "Sirius, how have you been?" He stuck his hand out. Sirius shook it. He had always liked Ted; maybe because his marriage to Andromeda angered his parents, but also he was a real nice man who you could trust. Unlike his wife, he had curly brown locks and a cheerful round face, though his smile didn't meet his eyes. He had been a good friend to Sirius's uncle. Ted turned to his wife, though still talking to Sirius and the two Tonks. "The Priest is ready to start."
Andromeda nodded and walked away. Nymphadora waited for Sirius before walking after her mother. The little girl held out her hand, hoping Sirius would take it. Smiling half-heartedly, he did.
A few meters in front of him lay an opened casket, and inside was a middle-aged man with velvety black hair. Sirius had to bite back a tear.
Flashback
"It's not just changing the future, Professor Dumbledore, it's difficult just to be living here," said Harry.
"How so?" asked Dumbledore. "Anything specific?"
"I know some people here from the future," explained Harry. "So, naturally, I tend to be around them a lot… as friends. It's just that I can't—be friends with them here, can I?"
"I'm afraid not."
"I want to help them, give them my advice, stop them from doing something stupid, help them through their pain. But every time I get the chance to do that, I know I'm violating the time-traveler's rules."
"Like how Sirius's uncle died?" asked Dumbledore.
"Yeah—wait, what?"
"Sirius's uncle just passed away a couple days previous," said Dumbledore. "I am guessing that Mr. Black is at the funeral as we speak. And it's times like these that you want to be there for him, but you can't. You can't be there to help him through this, because that is the job of those around you that belong in this time."
"Exactly," sighed Harry.
"It's not fair," growled Sirius as he walked through the secret passage leading to Hogwarts. The funeral had gone well, though nobody else showed up. At the moment, Sirius was furious, not grieving. "It's not fair that he dies and my scum of a family lives. Uncle Alphard was a good man, he stood up for many people. Why did he have to die!"
Sirius reached the stairs that lead to the one-eyed witch. "No one even showed up! No even his own mother! And what about my mum, or my dad, or even my little prat of a brother? Why weren't they there? Are they just that spiteful that they can't show some respect? I bet you anything it was Black relative that killed him…"
Sirius opened the door, not bothering to check if anyone was there. He ripped off James's Invisibility Cloak and stuffed it into his pocket. He marched down the corridor, stamping his feet in fury. He could hear the patter of what sounded like two pairs of feet walking towards him. Seconds later they came into view: Severus Snape and Regulus Black.
A fire rose up inside Sirius, one that he had not felt all this year. Seeing Snape and Regulus made Sirius want to curse them into oblivion, make them pay for their existence. Sirius just realized that he had not given them a good hex so far that year. Sure, he had pranked them, but nothing too serious. (Was it because of Hermione always holding him back?) It was about time Sirius let out that fire again.
Sirius whipped out his wand before Snape and Regulus even had a chance to blink.
Minutes later, Snape and Regulus were hanging from the ceiling by a bunch of strings, just like a marionette would. They were clad in only hot pink underpants. Both Slytherins were bald with hex marks scarring their pale skin. They even had a few bleeding cuts slashed across their delicate skin. Sirius stuffed his wand in his back pocket and continued to walk down the corridor. As he paced down the hall, he half shouted, half growled to the two Slytherins, "Have a happy Christmas."
Flashback
"I feel like I'm walking on glass, Professor. I always need to be careful with what I say, act, do…. It's getting worse and worse, too. I can't keep this up, and I don't think Hermione can either." A notion sparked in Harry's mind. "Professor, sir, have you ever dealt with time-travelers before?"
"Now that you've mention it, I have, Harry," said Dumbledore with a crooked smile. "I, myself, used a Time-Turner when I was a student here. I tried to take as many classes as possible. I kept it going for two years."
"What made you stop?" asked Harry. He was surprised at first to hear this, but realized that Dumbledore was probably the top students in all of his classes, just like Hermione, and would therefore strive for only the highest standards.
"It became a bit trickier to hide it from my friends and classmates," said Dumbledore with a twinkle shining in his bright blue eyes. "Sometimes I would forget to go to one class, or almost ran into myself. It was quite a difficult task."
"I think I know what you're saying," mumbled Harry. "But didn't you worry a lot? Didn't you feel that it might not have been worth it?"
"Oh, I did realize that at the end, hence why I gave up time-traveling by my fifth year."
"You didn't mistakenly change anything about the future, did you?"
"Dear me, no," laughed Dumbledore. "The Ministry of Magic would have taken my Time-Turner straight away if I had."
"What if, by just being here, Hermione and I are changing how others around us act?" panicked Harry after a deep silence between him and the Headmaster. "It seems as if a few of my classmates have started to respond differently than they would have if we were not here. They have lightened up on some things, have stronger feelings for other things…."
"Harry," said Dumbledore, "I knew I would be risking this by letting you stay here. It's a gamble that I am willing to take."
"But I might not," said Harry, respectfully lowering his eyes.
Hours after he left, Sirius marched back into the Gryffindor common room. While on his way to the Gryffindor Tower, he had ran into some Slytherins, and every single one he met was now in a painful or embarrassing situation and could not be freed. Every time Sirius hit them with a hex, he let out a hollow laugh. To say in short, Sirius did not deal with death well.
"Sirius, you're back," said James, relieved. He, along with Remus and Hermione, was sitting by the fireplace. They had been waiting for Sirius the entire time, and had bags under their eyes to prove it. James stood up and hugged Sirius, clapping his friend on the back. "Was it all right?" James let Sirius sit in his chair.
"Of course not," snapped Sirius. "It was a funeral." He sighed. "Andromeda was there. You remember her, don't you? I haven't seen her since her wedding. We talked for just a little bit. Even little Nymphadora was there." He glowered at the rug. "But no other relatives came."
"Well, that's good, isn't it?" said James, sensing his friend's vehemence. "That means that they weren't there to mess everything up. It's better to show no sign of disrespect than blatant contempt."
"I guess so," mumbled Sirius. He let out a frustrated growl. "Why do I have to be a part of such a dysfunctional family?"
"Don't think of it like that," said James. He paused searching for the right words to comfort his friend. "Think of us as your family. Forget about your parents who never cared for you. Forget about your brother who is a perfect example of an arse. Me, Remus, and Peter are your family now."
Sirius's solemn face cracked into a weak smile.
Hermione, sitting in a chair next to Remus, could not remember when she felt more like an intruder. She never felt more like she didn't belong, which she didn't. She knew she shouldn't be there at the common room. She knew she shouldn't be helping Sirius feel better. She knew that she should leave it to James and Remus. She knew she was bending the time-traveler's rules. She didn't care. Toss aside the rules for once, Hermione…. This boy in front of you is going to go through an immense amount of pain in the next twenty years… including death. The least –you can do is cheer him up before it all happens. Makes the pain less painful….
Hermione was about to lean forward and lay a comforting hand upon Sirius's arm. The reaction around was immediate. James's hazel eyes squinted warningly towards Hermione. Remus made to stop her, trying to reach her arm before it touched Sirius. But what startled Hermione the most was Sirius's response.
Sirius's head was hanging limply on his shoulders, his black hair a veil to his face, except for his eyes. They had shone with the beginnings of tears. His face had held no expression but sadness. The moment Hermione moved towards Sirius, however, it was as if he was another person. His head snapped upwards with a jerky movement. With every trace of a tear gone, his eyes caught the firelight in their grey depths, seeming as if they belong to the devil himself. His face was stone cold, his fury was back.
"Why didn't you tell me?" said Sirius, barely opening his mouth. Hermione did not like the tone he was using: accusatory. He kept his eyes locked onto hers. When Hermione did not answer, he asked again, only this time he yelled it out. "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME MY UNCLE WAS GOING TO DIE?" Sirius shot straight out of his chair. His knuckles were white from clenching his fists so hard.
What came next? Thought Harry. He blinked, and as soon as his eyes opened, he was shocked to find himself sitting outside in the rain. He looked at his feet. They were resting on a slab of stone. Where am I? he asked himself. Once he saw his surroundings, he recognized them as the entryway to Hogwarts. How long have I been here? Was his next thought.
What came next? Harry retraced his visit to Dumbledore. Suddenly, he remembered as he gazed at the Whomping Willow. Even at the time, Harry was surprised he had brought it up with Dumbledore. It wasn't even a thought that Harry had shared with Hermione. Speaking of Hermione…. Harry probably should talk to Hermione about his chat with Dumbledore. She would want to know.
With the heaving motion of lifting a few hundred pounds, Harry stood up from his dead cold seat. He was drenched to the bone. Whispering a quick drying spell, he quickly walked inside.
What he had mentioned to Dumbledore next scared Harry. He hoped with all his might it would not happen any time soon. As he walked all the way up to Gryffindor Tower, Harry had to focus hard to keep his mind off of it.
Surprisingly enough, as Harry stood outside the portrait of the Fat Lady, he heard shouting inside. "Procyon," spoke Harry to the Fat Lady. She let him in without a glance, for she was too busy plugging her ears. At one glance of the scene inside, Harry ran over to the Marauders and Hermione.
"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME MY UNCLE WAS GOING TO DIE?" shouted Sirius towards Hermione. Harry noticed his knuckles were a furious white. "YOU COULDN'T TELL ME THAT?" Sirius breathed heavily from his nose. "HE WAS LIKE MY FATHER! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT IT IS LIKE TO LOSE A FATHER?"
"What's going on?" asked Harry, though he had a very good idea of what was going on. Sirius rounded on him. Harry took a step back. He had never seen his handsome, godfather's face filled with such hurt and grief.
"YOU!" spat Sirius. "YOU STAY HERE, HAVING FUN WITH YOUR DAD WHILE INNOCENT PEOPLE ARE DYING?" He sputtered for words. "HOW—HOW YOU DO LIVE WITH YOURSELF, KNOWING THAT YOU COULD HAVE SAVED INNOCENT LIVES?"
Harry didn't have anger towards his godfather for blaming him. He knew exactly what Sirius was going through. Harry himself had gone through a similar predicament with Dumbledore at the end of his third year. Harry knew Sirius had every right to shout. He just wandered when the violence would kick in.
"YOU SON OF A—!" roared Sirius. He stalked towards Harry, pulled back his fist, and let it fly, landing swiftly on Harry's cheek. Harry's feet flew out beneath him, landing gracefully on his back. Harry did not get up, but just closed his eyes. "I COULD HAVE SAVED HIM! I could have saved him… I could have…." James stepped up as soon as Sirius hit his son. He made for Sirius's arm, but the furious Black just tore it out of reach. "DON'T! Just… don't…." Sirius looked horrified at Harry, who still had his eyes forcefully shut, before darting out of the room, up to his dormitory.
James walked over to Harry who had not moved since he was punched. "Harry?" James held out his hand.
"Help him," said Harry weakly. His eyes remained dormant. "He needs your help more than I do."
James nodded, then nodded to Remus. Their eyes met; Sirius couldn't be alone right now. He needed the Marauders, he needed his best friends. Remus and James, uncertainly, left Harry and Hermione and the warmth of the Gryffindor common room and walked nearer to the cold, black grief. Remus, last to enter the staircase, looked back at Hermione, who was walking over towards Harry. His eyes were doleful and full of sympathy. He, then, turned towards the stairs, ready to help his friend.
Hermione kneeled next to Harry.
"Are they gone?" asked Harry, eyes tightly shut.
"Yes."
He opened his eyes to show they were sparkling with wetness. He sat up.
"Harry, did you know that Sirius's uncle was going to die?" Hermione asked quietly. She was slightly off-colour and her eyes had a pinkish tint.
Harry took a moment before answering. "Before our fifth year, at Grimmauld Place, Sirius showed me his family tree. The name Alphard was not on there, but Sirius… had mentioned that his Uncle Alphard had left him a 'decent bit of gold'… I could only assume that it was from his will. But… yes, I knew. Not the exact date, but I knew."
"Oh, Harry," cried Hermione, flinging herself around Harry. "This is horrible, perfectly horrible. And what Sirius said! I'm so sorry, Harry. I can't believe—"
"Don't be sorry, Hermione," grunted Harry. He tried to sit up, though the brown, bushy-haired blob on top of him was making it difficult. "He had every right to be angry…" He looked solemnly up at Hermione.
"What is it, Harry?" asked Hermione, sensing something.
"I—I went to see Dumbledore, just awhile ago. I needed to talk to someone… about time traveling. We were talking about risks, and eventualities that were not too far away…."
Flashback
"Professor Dumbledore, sir, there is one thing that I fear will happen in only a short amount of time."
"What is that, Harry?"
Harry hesitated. He had not told this concern to anyone, not even Hermione. But the moment Harry looked into those crystal eyes staring through the half-spectacles, he knew he could trust the man in front of him. "Bad things will happen in this time, that is a given. But what I'm afraid of is… people who know I'm a time-traveler could start to… blame unfortunate events upon me being here, or saying that I could have changed it."
Dumbledore bowed his head, resting his mouth on his steepled fingers. He did not speak for a long time. His eyebrows furrowed, his mouth turned lopsided and wrinkly, and his eyes, for only a split second, lost their sparkle. Harry, feeling he was staring a hole into his headmaster's head, turned his gaze towards an adjacent window. The sky was painted with light grey clouds, bearing the heavy burden of a downpour. He could see little animals scurrying for cover; they sensed the rain, too.
"Harry," Dumbledore said softly, barely speaking above his raspy whisper. "You must understand that when you and Miss Snicket entered my office that September afternoon for the very first time, I had to make a choice: Do I send you to a hidden place, let you be in contact with no one until we could send you both back, or give you the chance to live here, your home. I knew that the latter had too many risks, maybe too many for a sixteen year old to handle. But when you and Hermione walked into my office, your heads held high, your eyes carrying scars not normally held by teenagers," Dumbledore's face cracked into a admiring smile, "I knew. I knew I could trust you two. Both of you have proven yourselves to be stronger than the average student." Dumbledore, still holding his smile, gave a heavy sigh." Difficult times lie ahead, Harry. Now you must choose between what is right, and what is easy. You have made correct judgments before and I have faith that you will continue to do so."
Harry looked at his Headmaster. Dumbledore's face beamed with a sincere, crooked smile.
Sirius was pacing at top speed around the sixth year boys' dormitory. He occasionally went to kick something, which he regretted seconds later. The door slowly open, giving a creak that would send shivers up anyone's back.
"Go away," growled Sirius, who hadn't even looked up to see who it was. He continued to pace.
"We want to help," said James loudly. Sirius let out a deadened snort before pacing once again.
"My advice—" said Remus quietly, but faltered at his friend's glare. "My advice," Remus repeated, "is to stop pacing. You'll wear a hole in the floor." He daringly shot a smile at his friend. In reply Remus received a slight twitch of the mouth from his friend. Sirius flopped heavily down onto his bed, his heart dragging him down further into the warm sheets. James sat on the bed opposite of his friend. He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees.
"Sirius," James said quietly. It was a few moments before Sirius looked up. "Tell us what's really bothering you, will you?"
"You don't know what it's like to lose someone as close as a father, do you?" snapped Sirius, whipping his downwards again so his hair shadowed his face.
"I know how it feels to lose close family, Sirius," warned James with an edge. "If you remember correctly, a whole horde of Death Eaters killed off half of my mum's family all in one go. I think I can relate to your situation a little bit, don't you?"
Sirius looked up at James almost apologetically. "I'm sorry, Prongs. I forgot."
"Obviously," James said sharply. A great deal of his relatives had been murdered by Death Eaters just the summer previous. He had gotten over it after time passed, but as death always does, it left a deep and painful scar. James's face lightened up a little once a few moments had passed. "But honestly, Padfoot, what's bothering you?"
"My Uncle died," said Sirius hollowly. "Sure, he was my favourite relative, once I accidentally called him 'father', but that's not it. It's the fact that he was stolen from me by my own flesh and blood, my own family." His rage was building up inside of Sirius again. "I just know that it was a Black behind that mask," he growled, referring to the masks Death Eaters were always wearing.
"So what?" asked James. "Does it matter if it was your cousin or your aunt? What matters is that you didn't fall into that side of your family. You and your Uncle did the right thing by leaving the Blacks. Unfortunately, their was a risk in doing so."
"Well there shouldn't be," cried out Sirius.
"Padfoot," said Remus, entering into the conversation, "we could go through the entire list of "should and shouldn't's" but it would make no difference. Things won't change because we wish them unfortunately."
Sirius sighed. "I know, I know."
"Remember the good memories of Uncle Alphard," said Remus gently, "not his death. "You know he was a good man. From what I've seen and heard, he would have wanted to go down fighting the good fight, which he did. And that's what is important. Not who did this, or who didn't do that…"
"Harry and Hermione have as much blame as the murderer himself," retorted Sirius. At that remark, he flipped backwards over his head so he was completely inside his bed frame, and shut the curtains closed with a snap.
James, however, did not takes this comment lightly. "You don't mean that do you?" he asked immediately. Both he and Remus looked upon Sirius's still bed with apprehensiveness dancing in their eyes. No answer came from Sirius. Although they could not see it, Sirius's expression faltered, his eyebrows lifting the hatred off. James and Remus continued to wait for an answer, though they didn't expect one from their slightly arrogant and stubborn friend. They sat waiting.
Flashback
After what seemed like hours of conference, Harry got up from Dumbledore's chair. He felt drained and parched following their discussion, but something was different. Harry had a fire lit inside of him and no one could put it out. Its sparks ignited inside him, causing him to quickly whip around towards the Headmaster. Dumbledore, startled by this, sat back down in his seat from which he had been slowly rising from.
"Professor Dumbledore, sir," Harry said without hesitation. He leaned against the back of the chair he had previously been occupying. "I know the process of making and obtaining a Life-Alter takes a long time. And I know that it should be ready within the next two to eight weeks. But it seems as if those risks we were talking about are becoming graver and graver as we speak. Someone in the future might take advantage of my absence, and I know I can't tell you any more," Harry said hurriedly, seeing as Dumbledore had opened his mouth. "I know how my being here will affect the future, and it's not good. What I'm trying to say is…" and his next words came out more of a demand than anything," We need to get back to the future. Now."
To all of my reviewers:
I'm sorry it's taking me a month to update. Things are a bit hectic, but also, it's summer, so I'll start to be lazy. I hope to update again before Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince comes out. So please. Be patient.
w0rthy0fluv: Hermione found Sirius flying the paper around funny because it's Sirius trying to impress her. Girls tend to do that, don't they?
StarStruck: Multiple sites have now posted an interview with J.K. Rowling saying that James Potter was a Chaser for the Gryffindor team. The movie was wrong (as it usually is).
Pixelfish: Hearing Draco snickering in the back of a classroom was like a metaphor. They were just so used to hearing the little Slytherin prat snickering all the time that it was etched into their brain. They didn't actually hear it.
Whatever: GOOD CATCH! I never even noticed that I typed Granger instead of Snicket. This is one of those Mark Evans incidences. I'm sorry. My mistake.
To all my American readers:
Happy Birthday, U.S.!
To all my French readers:
In ten days, Happy Bastille-Day!
To all my Canadian readers:
A late Happy Canada Day!
To all my Norwegian readers:
A late Happy Independence from Sweden!
To all my other readers:
Happy Monday!
To all my readers who are twelve hours ahead of me:
Happy Tuesday!
To all my alien readers:
Welcome to Earth! Please don't be a Vogon and blow us up! Besides, your poetry is awful.