A/N: Okay, so that six-week hiatus turned into a few months' hiatus. Writer's block, real life commitments (including a dissertation), and general human messiness are the culprits.
I can't promise a consistent posting schedule on this one. I've got parts written in advance for it, but not the whole thing. I can only promise I won't abandon it. It might be slow going, but it WILL be finished.
Thank you for your patience.
...
The Muggles of Little Hangleton were enjoying a particularly wet and fecund spring. There were always puddles along their walkways, huge muddy ones that often had paw prints emerging from either side of them. Some of the Muggles thought they saw a bear-like dog wandering through their gardens at night, perhaps creating those paw prints, but no one ever got a good look to see if the dog belonged to anyone, or if it even existed.
Curiously, while many Muggles claimed to see a dog traipsing through their gardens, their blooms and plants suffered no damage. In fact, the flowers bloomed ever larger and their vegetable patches were more productive than any year they'd seen.
It was a welcome phenomenon for the villagers. The wealthy owner of the old Riddle mansion had returned. No one saw his face or knew his name. The old caretaker had died under mysterious circumstances around Easter; rumor had it that the bear-like dog had killed him. The gossips of town claimed old Bryce had been interfering with their gardens for years, as the Riddle mansions' gardens were always perfect, while theirs struggled. With Bryce gone, the Riddle mansions' flowers withered away while everyone else's thrived.
By mid-May, the gardens stopped blooming. The old Riddle mansion was destroyed in a mighty fire on the last day of April. There were no casualties, despite it being the dead of the night when the mansion burned down. No one in the village saw the fire or heard it rage up on the hill. As if by magic, the fire began, swallowed the mansion whole, and left nothing but rubble and ash in its wake.
It wasn't the only property burned down in this manner. The ancient Gaunt hovel, which existed only in the memories of the oldest Muggles in the village, suffered a similar fate. The elderly villagers had all but forgotten the shack existed, save for its connection to the mansion up the hill. The Gaunt tramp's son, a lazy-eyed man whose name was exceedingly strange, had disappeared overnight decades before. The Gaunt patriarch and his daughter disappeared too, though they were presumed dead.
It was as if those fires dried up all that was left in Little Hangleton. The flowers stopped blooming. The vegetables withered. April's showers and puddles led to May barrenness.
Rumor had it that something new would be built in place of the old Riddle mansion. The Muggles shook their head at the ashes up on the hill. Perhaps the land was cursed, and it was spreading its misfortune through the village.
….
Harry heard something rattling in his bedside drawer. He'd just thrown himself into bed after spending a sunny Saturday morning flying with Ron. He groaned, his arms sore from gripping his broomstick.
"Harry James Potter! You answer this instant!"
He jammed his glasses on his face and pulled the drawer open. Tonks's angry, sweaty face appeared in the two-way mirror he'd received from Sirius.
"Tonks?"
"Harry! Finally!"
"Is something wrong with Remus?" Harry asked, worried that an urgent message from Tonks would spell disaster. "Is he okay?"
"He's fine. He's got a roommate."
Harry gave her a puzzled expression. She pushed the red hair out of her eyes and said, "Sirius captured Peter Pettigrew last night and it nearly killed them both."
"WHAT?" Harry jumped out of bed, startling Ron, who'd just come back from the shower. "Why didn't anyone say anything sooner?"
"My parents have been with Remus and Sirius since early morning and I've been on duty. I've just got a few minutes."
Tonks sprung into a rapid-fire report of the night's events. Sirius, as Padfoot, returned to Little Hangleton for another night of patrolling. It was there that he picked up the all-too-familiar scent of a rat. The rat – Peter Pettigrew – wasn't alone. It was joined by the gigantic snake, which Sirius estimated to be at least twelve feet long and as wide as a grown man's thigh.
Remarkably, neither Peter nor the snake noticed when what looked like a stray dog wandered in their midst. Unbeknownst to Harry, Padfoot had been patrolling the area every night since Easter. He began by rolling around in mud and trampling through innocent Muggles' gardens in the attempt to conceal his natural scent. His efforts paid off that late April night, as he managed to observe the rat and the snake slithering through an old shack.
Padfoot saw the snake weaving around the rat. It was then that he realized the snake and rat weren't working together – the snake had unhinged its jaw to swallow the rat whole. Padfoot sprung into the shack, startling both snake and rat, and a harrowing chase ensued.
Another figure appeared in their midst, whose face Padfoot couldn't see, but it was a wizard who set the shack on Fiendfyre. Padfoot chased rat and snake out of the shack, but not without inhaling smoke and having his vision blurred. The snake disappeared with the mysterious figure, but the rat ran off in the direction of the big house on the hill. By the time Padfoot made it there, it too had been set on fire.
Having nowhere else to turn, the rat dashed into the caretaker's cottage. It was promptly set on fire – Padfoot saw a spell cast from a nearby copse of trees – and not wanting to ruin his chance, he put all paws on the door and slammed it down, where Wormtail had transformed back into Peter Pettigrew, screaming bloody murder from having half his body burned beyond recognition.
Padfoot clamped his jaw around Peter's unsinged leg and Apparated them out of the caretaker's cottage. They were found just outside St. Mungo's near daybreak, with Padfoot having Splinched himself, bleeding profusely on the pavement with an unconscious Peter, who was also moments away from death as a result of his many injuries.
"Is he going to be okay?" Harry asked. "What about Petti—"
"They'll live." Tonks blew hair out of her eyes. "Sirius is regrowing about half his bones…he might be shorter the next time you see him. Pettigrew's got Aurors surrounding him but he's expected to live." Tonks's eyes darkened and her hair morphed to an inky black. "If it was me, I'd have let him die, but Kingsley and Mad-Eye have a point. We can't get information from him if he's dead."
Harry's expression gave his confusion away.
"They're holding a trial as soon as they can," Tonks explained. "I've got the feeling he's not going to be alive much longer."
"They'll execute him?"
Tonks shook her head. "Dementors will take care of him."
Harry felt an unexpected flash of emotion at the idea of Peter Pettigrew's soul being sucked out of his body. He pushed it aside, thinking of his godfather instead.
"Can I see Sirius?"
"Not yet. He's not even conscious."
"How about Remus?"
"Slowly healing. He got better after the last full moon." Tonks glanced over her shoulder. Harry heard the sound of a door closing and Tonks tucked herself somewhere darker, obscuring her face. "They're waiting until after the next full moon to see if that one helps, too. His Healers think his lycanthropy might be stronger than whatever venom that snake had. If he's well enough, he might even go to the trial they're holding for Pettigrew."
"What about Sirius?" Harry felt slightly embarrassed by the way his voice cracked; he had been preparing all year for something terrible to happen to his godfather. The Defense post was cursed and the last three professors had died. Harry had held out hope that Sirius would live to see him finish the third task of the tournament.
"I don't know. He's pulling through and Remus is with him. I wouldn't expect him back in the classroom for a few weeks." Tonks's features softened. "I'll let you know if anything goes wrong. Remus and Sirius are going to be all right."
Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. He'd come close to losing Remus only a few weeks ago and he felt his time with Sirius was running out. He didn't want to lose another family member – not yet, not so soon.
"You're looking peaky," said Tonks suddenly. "Have you eaten?"
"Not yet…I was out flying with Ron. We've just got back."
"Get something to eat and go to sleep." Harry heard Tonks's name being called through the door. "I've got to go, Harry. Keep the mirror next to you in case I need to talk to you again. I don't know when I'll have time…mum or dad might be calling you."
Harry nodded along and bid her goodbye. He sat down on the bed and met Ron's eyes. All thoughts of sleeping disappeared. He would stay awake until the next update and cling to the hope that Sirius would make it through.
….
"How's Professor Black, Harry?"
Cedric rolled up to the potions bench where Harry was practicing potion making with Hermione. One of the dungeons now served as a practice room for the champions to perfect their potions skills. Viktor and Fleur rarely appeared; they had their own facilities inside their quarters. Cedric and Harry took turns, but as it was a Friday afternoon and Sirius was still at St. Mungo's, healing, Harry had nowhere else to be. Sirius, Remus, and Tonks urged him to practice his weakest subject while Sirius was healing.
Like the extra lessons in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, Harry was being kept under the watchful, near-militant eye of Hermione. Cedric had just arrived, with Cho at his side, carrying a set of vials.
Harry stopped measuring his porcupine quills, eager for the break.
"Better," Harry said. "The Healers are letting him and Remus go to Pettigrew's trial next week, but they've got to come back to the hospital at the end of the day. Sirius needs round-the-clock potions. They're trying to regrow some of his organs."
Cho winced and put her hand on Cedric's shoulder. The Hufflepuff champion had his legs amputated from the waist down. He had temporary, clunky prosthetic legs while the Healers at St. Mungo's decided whether to try to regrow Cedric's legs or attempt more advanced prosthetics.
"Regrowing any part of the body isn't easy," Cedric replied, gazing down at his metallic limbs. "Best of luck to him."
"I asked Tonks about this," Hermione said, her eyes gleaming. "They're running loads of experiments on Sirius. If it works, they might try them on you, Cedric!"
Cedric nodded appreciatively. "My dad said the same. At least I've got my arms working again." He rolled back and forth in his wheelchair, grinning, already well-versed in navigating the world on wheels.
Harry mustered an awkward smile and let Cedric and Cho get to making potions on the other side of the dungeon. He admired Cedric's ability to stay optimistic after losing his legs. Viktor seemed to have a permanent limp after the second task and Fleur was constantly taking potions. Harry found it harder to sit or stand still for too long, but compared to the others, he fared well and tried not to complain about his pain.
It could've been worse – much worse.
"Harry, pay attention," Hermione scolded. "Your potion's going to boil over."
Harry scrambled to lower the fire under his cauldron, but it was of no use. The sludgy brown mixture spilled over the edges of the cauldron, burning a hole through the work table.
Hermione stopped the worst of the damage, but the stench was unbearable. Cho and Cedric were coughing from the other side of the dungeon and the four of them were forced out, only to find Snape glaring at them from the corridor.
"Potter."
"It was the Invigoration Draught, sir," Hermione said apologetically. "We've been practicing from the O.W.L.—"
"10 points from Gryffindor," Snape hissed, his greasy black hair covering half his face. "Each."
"What?" Harry demanded. "Why?"
"Potion making is a subtle art and science. Experimentation, even with tested potions, is unwise."
"I could've helped," Cho murmured. "We just covered—"
"5 points from Ravenclaw, Miss Chang," Snape said softly. "I did not ask for your opinion."
Harry clenched his fists at his sides. Snape strode into the dungeon, his black robes billowing behind him as he vanished the mess Harry had left behind.
"Mr. Potter!"
Harry turned on his heel and saw Professor McGonagall coming his way.
"Professor?"
"Come with me, Potter."
Harry felt his stomach flip. He grabbed his rucksack and hurried after McGonagall. She led him to his office, where he was immediately greeted by Tonks.
"What's wrong?" Harry gasped, through a bone-crushing hug. "Sirius—"
"You want to see him? Professor McGonagall's letting you have the afternoon off," Tonks said brightly. "He's dying to see you."
Harry looked back at McGonagall for confirmation. She nodded, and he gladly went through the Floo in her office. He'd missed Sirius terribly, not only because he was his godfather, but because Defense Against the Dark Arts had been dull. An Auror called Dawlish was the substitute teacher until Sirius returned and Harry had learned nothing from him.
Harry took the route from the hospital Floos to the end of the corridor where the lifts were. Tonks joined him inside the lift and said, "He can talk, but not much. He's also not as…handsome…as you might remember."
"I don't care," said Harry. "As long as he's okay."
Tonks led him through two wards. One of the wards had blocked off area with a sea of Aurors surrounding it, which let Harry know that was where Peter Pettigrew was staying. At last, they reached the furthest corner of the hospital. The door outside Remus's room had big, bold letters emblazoned on it announcing one of the room's occupants as a werewolf. Harry brushed past the signs and stepped inside, inhaling sharply when he saw Sirius.
His godfather's head had been shaved. Half his scalp was covered in pink scar tissue, which extended down one of his cheeks and neck. His shoulder looked raw, shiny, and red. It wasn't bleeding, but it looked like Sirius had been skinned from his collarbone to his elbow. He was thin and his eyes were bloodshot, but when his pupils rested on Harry, his swollen lips twisted into a lopsided smile.
"Ha…rry," Sirius croaked, attempting to lift a hand to wave. Harry tried not to stare at the grotesqueness of his godfather's appearance, and set his eyes on Remus, who had the Tonkses sitting on his left side and Dumbledore sitting on his right.
"Reckon I'm better looking now," Remus said hoarsely, grinning at Harry. His neck was still wrapped in a thick bandage, but he looked better than Harry remembered.
"You can hold his hand," Tonks urged, nudging Harry toward Sirius. "Only left one – the right one's bones were just reset this morning."
Harry glanced at Sirius's right hand, which was an unrecognizable blob of red and purple skin in the shape of a winter mitten.
"Hello, Harry," greeted Andromeda, coming to pat his shoulder. "I'm sure you must be wondering why all of us are here – we'll explain soon."
Harry nodded and got to Sirius's side, giving his left hand a gentle squeeze before sitting down. Sirius coughed up phlegm tinged with blood and Andromeda was at his bed instantly, wiping his mouth carefully with a cloth.
"It was loads worse just a few days ago," Tonks explained, sitting at the foot of Remus's bed. "The stench was unbelievable."
"Nymphadora, that's enough," Andromeda said, with an air of impatience. "We're not here to discuss bodily functions." She glanced at Dumbledore, who stood from his seat.
"Thank you, Andromeda. Harry, it is good to see you here."
Harry shrugged and leaned back into the uncomfortable chair.
"I've been at St. Mungo's all week, interrogating Mr Pettigrew," Dumbledore announced. "His memory was tampered with, but with Legilimency, I was able to piece together an account. I shall be presenting this at his trial next week." He cleared his throat and continued, "It appears that Pettigrew found a way to escape from Azkaban by creating a small hole in the floor of his cell. He stuck his foot in it, transformed into a rat, and dropped into the cell beneath him."
"I thought his cell had Anti-Animagus Charms?" asked Harry. "How did he manage?"
"His cell did have those charms, but he'd created tons of holes in the walls, trying to find a weak spot," Tonks explained. "The weak spot was the floor."
"Precisely," Dumbledore agreed. "As it happens, he escaped on the day the Minister for Magic was inspecting the prison. Pettigrew crawled into Fudge's cloak pocket and stayed there until they reached dry land. Fudge took him all the way to the Ministry, where Pettigrew hopped into the next available pocket – that of Barty Crouch Sr."
Sirius coughed loudly, spewing more phlegm from his throat. Andromeda attended to him again before Dumbledore went on.
"It was at Crouch Sr.'s home that Pettigrew found Crouch Jr. A plot was created at once to return to Voldemort. They placed Crouch Sr. under the Imperius Curse and went off to find Voldemort. They found him and learned he wanted Harry's blood, but Harry was too well-protected. They pursued Dudley in his place."
"That's when Aunt Marge was—" Harry shuddered, thinking of the day they'd learned Marge was murdered.
"It was fortunate that we got to Dudley first," Tonks said, nodding along. "Aurors are at Smeltings. Kingsley's teaching for you, Remus."
"It was fortunate indeed," said Dumbledore. "Voldemort was not pleased with their blunder and changed course, with Harry back at Hogwarts. They learned of the Triwizard Tournament through Crouch Sr. Not wishing to put the Crouches under any scrutiny, Ludo Bagman was framed for entering Harry into the tournament." Dumbledore tugged lightly on his long, white beard. "I suspect Mr. Bagman will receive another trial." He shook his head slightly. Harry sat at the edge of his seat, rapt with attention.
"Crouch Sr., from Pettigrew's memories, was fighting the Imperius Curse. Pettigrew's memories were weak, leading me to believe he heard this from Crouch Jr. Barty Crouch Sr. had every intention of turning his son over to the Ministry, but his son killed him. That was at the time Dudley was almost killed again – Voldemort has been disappointed with his servants' slow progress and it was Pettigrew's idea to try Dudley again, behind his master's back."
"They were caught," Harry said aloud, recalling the night Dudley came home from Smeltings.
"When we learned that Crouch Jr. escaped, we went after Crouch Sr.," Tonks confirmed. "We're sure that when Dudley saw Crouch Jr. and Pettigrew, the son felt he had no choice but to kill the father. But by killing his father and blaming it on that poor, wretched house-elf, Winky, we knew something was wrong."
"It didn't help I almost died that night, too," Remus said, before clearing his throat noisily.
"Re…turn," Sirius gasped. "Crime."
"What Sirius means to say," Tonks said irritably, "is that he thought Voldemort, Pettigrew, and Crouch Sr. would return to the scene of the crime. They did, which is why he was stalking Little Hangleton as Padfoot for weeks."
Harry squeezed Sirius's hand again, grateful his godfather was still alive.
"This was the limit to my Legilimency," Dumbledore continued. "From Sirius's account and Petttigrew's memory, I believe Voldemort is planning something else and Pettigrew failed in another task. The snake that attacked Remus is part of this as well. Pettigrew claims the snake is called Nagini and is tied to Voldemort, but he is rarely far from her, as he needs her for his survival."
Dumbledore gazed between Sirius and Remus, looking away from Harry and the Tonkses. Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously, wondering what the Headmaster was hiding.
"We will learn more next week, I hope. The Wizengamot is going to use Veritaserum on Pettigrew, in addition to Legilimency."
"By the way, Harry," Tonks added, "we're trying to keep you informed, but we ask you keep this to yourself until the trial is over next week. All of us, my parents included, wanted you to know that it's still risky for you to be on your own. Voldemort might be left with Crouch Jr. and the snake, Nagini, but they're after you."
"Is that why an Auror is teaching Defense?" Harry asked glumly.
"Dawlish, yeah. He's not the most interesting bloke but he knows his stuff." Tonks smiled at him sheepishly. "I'd have done it but with these two in here, I've been on Pettigrew guard duty."
"You need to be vigilant, Harry," Remus said, coughing. "Now more than ever."
Dumbledore glanced at his watch. "Alas, it is time to return to the castle. Harry?"
"I can't stay any longer?"
"Go back to school, Harry." Tonks stood up from her spot and embraced him in another bone-crushing hug. "In a week, when Pettigrew's trial is over, we'll yank you out and tell you what happened. You can tell your friends then, okay?"
"We want you safe and sound, son," Ted interjected, as Remus opened his mouth. "Save your strength, Remus. We know what you want to say."
"Give us a week," Tonks repeated. "Keep practicing your spells and potions."
Harry was irritated that he had to go so soon. He suspected the adults were going to have an in-depth discussion when he was gone, but he was forced out of the hospital room. He grudgingly followed Dumbledore out of the hospital, pondering what would come next.
….
Harry tumbled into one of his favorite squashy sofas in the Gryffindor common room after visiting St. Mungo's, where he'd been given a fast summary of Peter Pettigrew's trial. Like the week before, he knew some things were being omitted, but he was grateful for the information he got, which he would now be able to share with his friends. He rubbed his face with his hands and felt a dip in the cushion on his right.
"Sorry I'm late," Hermione said apologetically, setting a stack of books down at her feet. "Study session with Etienne was longer than I thought it'd be."
Harry saw Ron's lips twist at Hermione's explanation. He said nothing, letting Harry take the lead in the conversation.
Ginny sat next to Ron on the floor, the light from the crackling fire illuminating her face. Harry forced his gaze on Ron; all thoughts of Ginny would have to wait while he relayed everything he'd learned to his closest friends.
Harry cleared his throat awkwardly and took a deep breath.
"Remus doesn't have to spend any more time at St. Mungo's, as of tonight," he began, watching Ron, Ginny, and Hermione all breathe sighs of relief. "They waited till after May's full moon to finally let him go…Tonks said they concluded that his 'furry little problem' was stronger than the snake bite. Turns out having a 'furry little problem' helped him."
He saw his friends nod along, knowing they were waiting for him to discuss the news from the trial.
"It's all Voldemort's fault."
Ron shuddered, darting his blue eyes around the now-empty common room.
"They performed the Dementor's Kiss on Pettigrew a few minutes ago," Harry added quietly, his stomach turning uneasily. "They used Legilimency and Veritaserum on him before he got Kissed…they thought he'd tell the truth under threat of death or the Kiss, but Voldemort did something to him, they think. Dumbledore did most of the Legilimency last week. This week they presented the evidence and then the Wizengamot decided he should be Kissed."
Harry thought he heard Hermione whisper "barbaric" under her breath. He swallowed hard and nodded at her in agreement. The Wizengamot had decided that after Pettigrew's crimes and escape from Azkaban, he deserved a fate worse than death: the removal of his soul. His soulless body resided somewhere in Azkaban, in a permanently catatonic state.
Harry conveyed that neither Remus nor Sirius witnessed the Kiss. They attended the trial at the Wizengamot, heard the verdict and sentencing, and left before Pettigrew was dragged out of the chambers, screaming, crying, and pleading for his soul. Remus and Sirius decided to return to St. Mungo's. They met with Harry to inform him of what had surpassed during the trial.
"Pettigrew said that Voldemort controlled the snake. Dumbledore thinks it was possessed…the one that attacked Remus. Sirius wouldn't tell me more, but he was worried." Harry thought back to the conversation at St. Mungo's the week before – it was clear Dumbledore, Remus, and Sirius knew something, but they weren't sharing it yet with Harry.
"So this possessed snake…was it with…V-Voldemort?" Ginny asked.
"They were together somehow. They think the person who set the mansion, shack, and cottage on fire was either Crouch Jr. or Voldemort," Harry answered. "The old Riddle mansion was burned down to the ground and another shack was burned down too. No one knows what was in the shack, but Dumbledore, Remus, and Sirius didn't look happy when they learned about it."
"That's not everything," Harry continued. "Pettigrew said that he escaped with Crouch Jr. and they've been behind it all…my name in the Triwizard Cup, framing Ludo Bagman, Aunt Marge's murder…it was all them. Voldemort wants me and he'll do whatever it takes to get to me."
"So it wasn't Bagman's fault you're one of the Triwizard champions?" Ron asked. "Was he Imperiused?"
Harry shook his head. "I dunno…he's getting another trial. Sirius thinks Voldemort must've done something to his memory, like he did with Pettigrew. They're going to have to do Legilimency on him too."
"The Evening Prophet printed this," Ginny said, shoving the newspaper into Harry's hands. "It got here a few minutes before you did."
Harry read the front-page article, surprised it didn't mention Pettigrew's trial.
"Fudge was sacked?"
"Is it true?" asked Hermione. "He was sacked because he's the one that let Pettigrew escape?"
Harry sighed heavily and replied, "Yeah. Another long story."
He rapidly informed his friends about everything he knew, except his suspicions that his family wasn't telling him everything he wanted to know. By the time he was done speaking, his voice was hoarse and the fire had become embers.
"What if he tries to get you at the next task?" Hermione said, her bushy hair having grown bigger as the night went on.
"He'd be mental to try that, wouldn't he?" Ron objected. "There'll be loads of Aurors there!"
"He's tried getting to Harry before, even with his family around him," Ginny countered. She gazed at Harry pityingly. "Sorry."
Harry sunk further into the cushion, thinking of how many more of his loved ones would suffer or die for him. Without another word, he stood from the couch and stormed up to his dormitory. Perhaps it was time to break ties and spare his friends from an inevitable, painful fate.