Tall Tales
Chapter 63
Monday, November 3
Remus dropped in to visit him late in the day, an awaited reprieve since Sirius had had little company besides Gwen for an entire day. He had assumed staying in Hestia's home would subject him to more of the latter's company, but since she was brewing the antidote for him, he saw her less frequently than he would have liked.
Sirius was longing for a good shower – while Scourgify did do the trick, the smell of blood hanging about him was not particularly pleasing. And so, on Remus' idea of charming his bandages with an Impervious, Sirius showered and emerged after a while, feeling enlivened.
"I was positive you had fainted in there," remarked Remus, without lifting his head up from the newspaper he was reading.
Sirius raised an eyebrow, foregoing any remark. Taking a warm shower was a luxury that Azkaban had denied him and if Sirius liked to indulge himself longer than was necessary, he couldn't care what anyone else thought of it.
Remus, who had noticed him fumbling with his trousers with only one free hand, strode over and helped him into it. Sirius did not put on a shirt, seeing as it was not feasible with having to have his bandages changed every so often.
The two were talking amongst themselves with Sirius helping himself to his lunch somewhat awkwardly, what with his left hand bandaged up to keep him from moving it and disturbing the wound on his shoulder.
Remus was relaying him the news from that day's Prophet. "…and the price on your head has jumped from ten thousand galleons to twenty."
Sirius shook his head, amused. He would be single-handedly responsible for most of the Ministry's expenses if the reward for his capture kept getting any higher.
"That seems needlessly desperate on the Ministry's part. Did they mention why?" asked Sirius.
"Only the detail that you were involved in the murders of the two Hit-Wizards who were found dead in Godric's Hollow. It's all the same drivel," burst out Remus, frustrated on his behalf. Sirius didn't mind. He had been typecast as a murderer for far too long that it was cumbersome to even summon the energy to deny their allegations.
"Bet he was really pissed off that his pet snake was killed," muttered Sirius, feeling vindictive pleasure in knowing that he had taken the one being Voldemort prized above all else in the same place where Voldemort had taken Sirius' best friend. It was as close as it was to fitting payback.
Remus however wore a troubled frown on his face. Noticing his quiet contemplation, Sirius caught his attention. "Sickle for your thoughts?"
Remus hesitated before his expression cleared and he shook his head with a wry smile. "I just remembered it's your birthday."
Sirius snorted derisively. "Another one bites the dust."
"Don't be so melodramatic!" interrupted a voice from the door. Gwen was holding the squirming slender, blue-grey cat that belonged to Hestia.
Newt, as he was so called, was a quiet, withdrawn feline. Sirius himself had first caught a glimpse of it only the day before when it had sauntered into the room behind Hestia, when she had visited him. The stately-looking cat had not taken well to the new additions in the house, but in a peculiar fashion had peeked over Sirius' bed rather interestedly.
"Get down then, you fiend," grumbled Gwen, letting go of Newt, who moseyed into the room and leapt into Sirius' bed, sniffing at his food. Sirius snickered and put his plate with the leftovers aside for Newt, allowing him to clean it up. He had developed quite a soft spot for the cat which had saved his life, having been the one to alert his owner of his presence outside the house.
"You and your thing for animals," remarked Gwen resentfully, shaking her head. "I've never seen him behave like that with anyone besides Hestia."
"We can't all be me," said Sirius making Gwen chortle.
"Happy birthday by the way," she said coming up to him with a flirtatious smirk. "I'm sorry I haven't got you any presents. Well, except for this."
Sirius was caught off-guard when she leaned to kiss him on the cheek. While not entirely unexpected it was very much unwelcome. He was saved from the awkwardness of his non-expression when Remus cleared his throat loudly, his face flushed. Sirius choked on his laugh at the startled look on his face and Gwen stared back at him without a hint of embarrassment. "Oh, didn't see you there, Remus!"
"And that's my cue," said Remus, standing up and handing Sirius a glass of water. "Someone needs to be over at headquarters to make sure the twins do not end up demolishing the place and Dora will have my hide if I left her to her own devices against them. Don't overexert yourself, you're still too peaky," Remus added, giving him a stern look that was too significant for Sirius to not understand his implied meaning.
"Yes, mother," parroted Sirius dutifully, lips twitching.
Remus sighed and muttered something under his breath that Sirius couldn't quite catch, but could make out the gist of simply by the look of exasperation on his face. With a final nod, Remus exited the room and Gwen watched him leave before shaking her head. "I'll never understand how Remus fell for someone like Tonks."
Sirius bristled. "And why is that?"
"Now don't get yourself in a state! I quite like your cousin." Gwen moved to sit on the chair Remus had vacated and looked at him fervently. "Don't look at me like that, I do!"
Sirius nodded exaggeratedly. "I remember quite vividly how you got on with Tonks when you first met her."
"Of course, I didn't get on with her," scoffed Gwen. "I thought she was your girlfriend."
"She's my cousin's daughter," said Sirius, raising both his eyebrows. It was the weirdest thing to imagine, seeing as Sirius had seen her and held her when she was nothing but a squalling baby.
"I didn't know that then," said Gwen, crossing her legs and throwing him a disdainful look. "She's young and fit. It was not particularly hard to imagine you going for the next best thing."
Sirius shook his head, disturbed by the mental image, not least because she was now Remus' wife.
"I find it amusing that you thought all that mattered to me was getting a girlfriend only months after I'd made it out free," said Sirius.
"Is that not something you would want?" asked Gwen, leaning forward. "I mean, you're not getting any younger and neither am I."
"Woke up to that, have you?" said Sirius, snorting and settling himself against his pillows. "The Quidditch gig must have been going great and life was good, until it wasn't anymore when you finally realized it wouldn't be so bad if you had someone who stayed around after all, is that it?"
For the first time, Gwen was uncomfortable, her eyes meeting anything but his. "Not just someone," she muttered resolutely. "I wanted only you."
"Since when? And don't give me that hogwash about that night at Slughorn's party," snapped Sirius.
"You're acting like that was the first time we slept together," said Gwen, uncrossing her legs and glaring back at him fiercely.
"No, but it is the last," said Sirius firmly. "If I'd known this was what you wanted, I would never have done it."
Gwen scoffed disbelievingly. "That's rubbish and you know it! We hardly even talked four sentences before we began making out. You wanted me just as much as I did, Sirius. Admitting that shouldn't be so difficult."
"You and I both know there was a time when I wanted you as much," said Sirius coldly, hating to acknowledge the fact. "It wasn't difficult for you to go and blow it, was it?"
Gwen flushed crimson. "I was naive! Am I not allowed to make mistakes when I was young and ambitious? And you weren't a saint either."
Sirius bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying something unkind.
"Let's not dig deep into the past, Sirius," said Gwen determinedly. "That was a long time ago and I'm nothing like what you remember me to be."
Sirius would be inclined to agree with that statement. But Gwen ought to know it went both ways. "And you should bloody well know that I'm nothing like you remember me either," said Sirius in a low voice.
He thought he sensed defeat in the way her jaw slackened, unable to retort. It was an entirely foreign expression on her proud face, that Sirius felt a bit sorry for her. "The last time was a one-off, Gwen," he said softly, "and it won't happen again."
Gwen was shaking her head, even before he finished his sentence. "Do you have any idea how many men would kill to sleep with me? And here I am offering myself up to you on a silver platter and you won't take it."
"I'm sure there are plenty of men for someone as brilliant as you and you're welcome to be with them," said Sirius lightly. "You should go where you're appreciated, not the other way round."
"I know that you do appreciate me," said Gwen fiercely. "You're just not ready to admit to it."
Sirius sighed, exasperated. "Gwen, listen to me. I like you just as any other member of the Order. But if you want something more, you're looking in the wrong place. With everything that's going on, the last thing I want is a relationship."
Especially with you.
Gwen stood up and walked to the window, frustrated. After a pause, she said, "Let's not discuss this right now."
"If you're not going to–"
"I said I don't want to discuss it now, Sirius," she reiterated hotly.
Sirius did not know if she accepted or refused his statement. But he was glad for the change in subject and nodded.
"How's the situation with the Quidditch Committee going on?" asked Sirius, ensuring the conversation would be in safer waters.
As he had hoped, Gwen lost some of her intensity. "I've been hearing from my contacts that the Bulgarian National Team strongly demanded for my reinstatement. I think it has something to do with their Seeker. I'm not sure if you know that young bloke, Viktor Krum? He was all over the news a few years back when the TriWizard Championship took place in Hogwarts. Even your godson was in it."
Sirius remembered that alright. He motioned for her to go on with a nod and she continued. "Well, the Bulgarian Ministry was also the first to call for a consensus with the International Confederation of Warlocks. I think they might have some idea of what's going on here. I don't quite understand why their Minister is interested in our affairs at all. Didn't Durmstrang have a notoriously high turnout of Dark wizards than the average magical school?"
Sirius nodded thoughtfully. "That boy, Krum, wasn't so bad, at least according to Harry."
Sirius had also seen him in Bill Weasley's wedding as a friend of the bride, Fleur Delacour, who was yet another TriWizard champion. They would likely have included Harry in the happy reunion too if only he had made it to the wedding. Was it Fleur who had contacted Krum and in turn alerted the Bulgarian Ministry of what was happening here?
"But getting the ICW involved is most welcome news," said Sirius optimistically.
Gwen shook her head and gave him a knowing look. "You know that is not going to be of much help now. Not with our Minister ensuring the ICW doesn't get a whiff of what's happening here, is it?"
Sirius frowned. He had not been made aware of that bit of information. Gwen saw the expression on his face and raised an eyebrow. "You didn't know that? I thought your people in the Order would have told you by now. We do have some working in the Ministry, don't we? What are they doing if they can't gather information that even I can?" Gwen finished scathingly.
"Hang on a second," said Sirius, sitting up. "The ICW wrote to the Ministry?"
"Yes they did," nodded Gwen, "and it was promptly dealt with and made to seem like everything is simply splendid over here."
"Was this in the news?" inquired Sirius.
"Nope, you won't find any of it in there," said Gwen, nodding at the newspaper that Remus had left behind before remarking sarcastically, "The Prophet has better things to publish, like circulating rumours that I was dead. The way I see it, the Ministry is planning to get away with that story since I'm in hiding. This way they can put a stop to the Bulgarian Ministry and, in effect, the ICW from digging into our affairs."
Sirius was deep in thought, still marvelling at the fact that Remus had not mentioned it to him that the International Confederation had written to the Minister. It was a wholly wasted opportunity – if the Order had known of the matter, they could have somehow tried to exploit the chance of responding to the ICW, which could have gotten them the external help they needed.
Gwen continued oblivious to his thoughts. "For now though, the Committee has planned to go ahead with the season without me and my seeker. They've already found replacements, I've heard."
"That's not fair," said Sirius sympathetically.
"I don't see what you're feeling sorry about," said Gwen, raising an eyebrow. "They've just signed themselves up for a humiliating season with Brent and Finney in the team. Guess the repute of the Holyhead Harpies is destined to doom this year."
Gwen shrugged before she stood up abruptly, glancing at the clock that hung on the wall beside the door. "It's half past two already. Have you taken your potion yet, Sirius?" she asked, sounding concerned.
"I must've forgotten it would seem." That ought to explain why his vision was slowly darkening around the edges again.
"Hestia will have your arse if she hears that," said Gwen chuckling lightly, busying herself with pouring a goblet full of the Replenishing potion that was kept near his bedside. She handed it to him and Sirius felt their hands brush momentarily when he took it. Gwen flushed scarlet and Sirius bit back the sigh that was threatening to let loose. He raised the goblet to his lips, grateful to hide his face behind it even for a few moments in the pretence of drinking it. Gwen didn't seem to have noticed his discomfort however.
"Where is Hestia?" asked Sirius, merely to break the stretching silence.
"My cousin has retired into 'the lair'," she said emphasizing on the last word. To Sirius' inquiring look, she laughed, "That's what we call it, the room upstairs." She cast a glance at the ceiling and rolled her eyes. "I reckon there's a lot of potion making supplies in there seeing as that is what she's probably doing now, but none of us are ever allowed to go in, not even for a peek – she's horrid that way. Thank Merlin we have her though," she added fondly. "Or we might have been holding your funeral by now."
Sirius couldn't agree more with that sentiment.
"You look like you need to rest," announced Gwen, when it became apparent to her that Sirius was not in a mood to chit-chat. "I'll be off to headquarters. Tonks and I are going to be practicing together. I've got to beat Johnson if I am to have some hope of salvaging my reputation."
"Say Hi to Tonks for me," said Sirius blithely, setting aside his untouched potion on the table beside his bed. He breathed a sigh of relief when Gwen was gone, closing his eyes and sinking into the pillows.
He had a feeling his conversation with Gwen had not had the desired effect on her. She never did take 'No' for an answer – her audacity had been what drew him to her when they were young but made him feel completely the opposite now.
They had dated for only a few weeks while he was in his last year at Hogwarts. It was all stolen kisses and wild nights, thrilling and adventurous for a seventeen year old boy, but leading absolutely nowhere. They were both too brash, too hot-headed – they kept getting together just so they would break up, as James had remarked after his third encounter with Gwen while he was serving full-time in the Order and she had just joined the Holyhead Harpies as a reserve, fresh out of school. Sirius hardly cared about having a girlfriend back then and their impassioned on-again off-again romance was merely a means to break the monotony of his life.
Now, however, he did not want to invest himself into something which was as meaningless as it could get. The people he spent his time with and who he let inside his personal space, was of far greater importance to him than it had ever been. Perhaps, it was experiencing the debilitating sting of betrayal from one of his closest friends, or having been turned on against by quite literally the entire country that had made him wary of everyone, friend and foe. Sirius would not let someone else play with his trust again, not until he deemed them worthy enough.
Oh, but Sirius had liked the attention. When they had met in Slughorn's party last year, she had made him feel very much desirable again and that was something he had not known he had missed. For someone as fit and famous as Gwen, she could have had just about any bloke in the room, but she had still gone for him. He knew he wasn't as fanciable as he once was, and while Sirius had been anything but vain when it came to his looks, Azkaban did mess things up in his head.
Once she had found him in the party and thankfully dragged him away from Slughorn, they had spent only a few minutes talking before everything had dissolved into a jumble of snogging which had then led to them absconding from the castle to find a place in Hogsmeade for the night.
He could have been twenty again with how the night had gone, but Sirius was not twenty anymore. He was made aware of that every time he looked into the mirror and with every passing Order meeting and most importantly, when he was with Harry. While that one night had made him feel good about himself at the time, he could not possibly imagine spending all of his time with her.
Sirius was quite happy to never see her again until Gwen had turned up out of nowhere and demanded to be a part of the Order. Sirius could not tell why he thought she was a good fit for the Order, despite his personal reservations against her. But he had had a feeling then that she would be useful – and she had proven to be just that minutes ago by revealing the news about the ICW.
That bit of information was raising more questions than answers and he was pondering on her word again when someone else broke into his musing. "Is that Newt?"
Sirius looked up at Hestia's voice, sitting up involuntarily. She was lovely as always in a navy blue knitted jumper over a skirt, her hair pulled up in a knot. Sirius watched her as she strode in, her hands full as she was holding up a small cauldron, which she placed on the table beside him. The cauldron held a murky brown potion which was bubbling sluggishly.
"That's astonishing," she continued speaking, casting a thoughtful glance at the sleeping cat beside him. "He'd never let anyone near him, not even Gwen."
"It's done?" asked Sirius, raising a skeptical eyebrow at the bubbling cauldron. "I thought you said it would take at least a week!"
Hestia's cheeks went pink and she avoided his gaze. "I took a guess taking into account any possible mishaps that I might end up with," she said and shook her head. "I didn't think it would be quite straightforward once I had all the ingredients."
Sirius let out an incredulous laugh. "All that arguing so you could whip this potion up in two days? And Merlin's beard, don't get me started on that Fidelius you wanted to have—"
"Alright, alright, stop taking the mickey out of me," she huffed in annoyance before casting him a dubious glance. "Let's hope for your sake that this works."
She ladled a goblet of the potion and handed it to Sirius, who grimaced looking into the mucky depths of it. "That looks revolting. Are you certain—?"
"Don't start now," she said severely, pointing a finger at him. "I've checked and double checked everything all morning. If this is not it, then I doubt even Smethwyck himself could brew a better potion."
Up close, Sirius could see her tired eyes and the fatigue in her voice along with a flicker of doubt as she kept throwing looks at the cauldron and the goblet in his hand. To put her mind to rest, he drank it straight without any further remark, ignoring Hestia's warning that he might throw up if he took it too fast.
"That tastes like mud… and peppermint," remarked Sirius, privately thinking it tasted much better than he had expected – he had lived off of rats for a while after all and had probably developed an iron constitution, he mused. Sirius handed her the goblet asking, "So now what?"
"Let's give a few moments for it to get going," said Hestia, crossing the room to shut the door. "Budge up and let me undo the bandages."
Sirius did as he was told, nudging Newt aside to make room for Hestia. The cat opened one bleary, bright-green eye in annoyance then proceeded to sleep again near Sirius' leg. Hestia chuckled while her deft hands removed the bandages. Sirius, who had been focused on the feeling of her soft hands on his bare shoulder, felt his breath hitch at the tugging sensation when she finally undid the bandages, feeling warm blood trickling down his back again. He felt a cloth pressed against his shoulder to soak it up, and Hestia murmured the Healing charm. In a few moments, Sirius felt the biting pain lessen considerably and he breathed out in relief. "Thanks."
Hestia hummed in acknowledgement, cleaning the wound before she stood up. Sirius reached out and held her wrist with his newly healed, yet sore arm, making her stop and turn back, puzzled.
"I can't imagine what I'd have done without you," said Sirius, sincerely.
"I don't want to think about it either," fretted Hestia, shaking her head and still holding the bloodied cloth in her hand. "If I hadn't found you that night or if you'd…"
Sirius removed the cloth from her hand, pressing her closer to him and cutting her off. Taken by surprise, Hestia rested her hands on either side of his shoulder and sucked in her lower lip, peering down at him from dark lashes steadily. Up close and in the daylight, Sirius could see her eyes had a bit of hazel in her blue.
"You know, it's my birthday today," said Sirius in a low voice.
"It is?" asked Hestia, surprised. "Well, happy birthday! Not too shabby that I got the cure just in time, I suppose?" she asked with a mischievous smile.
"Not bad at all," agreed Sirius. "I wouldn't be able to hold you like this or…"
Sirius glanced at her lips; he could feel her anticipation as if it were his own. It did not help him that it had been quite a while since their first kiss, and the events that had succeeded it had completely killed his mood and put him away from her for far too long.
"You've just been healed not a few moments ago," she said with little conviction. "I don't think we should do anything to overtax you right now."
It was unacceptable that Sirius could hardly think coherent words when she was capable of carrying on with full sentences. "Too late for that."
They both leaned in at the same time, their kiss deeper, harder than their last, with their bodies pressed flush against each other despite the awkward position of Sirius still seated on the bed.
His hands found the small of her back, her own hands resting behind his neck. Her hair tickled his cheek and he found himself aware of only the sensations of her mouth against his.
This must be what it felt like to be in pure bliss. Nothing mattered to him at that moment, other than the giddy pleasure that was overtaking him.
It was only a moment later that Sirius was aware of what was happening to him.
"Oh bugger," he muttered, pulling away and clasping his head, the world around him tilting to one side.
Hestia was concerned. "Sirius! Sirius, are you alright?"
It felt like the blood had rushed straight down from his head, leaving him groggy. Hestia was pushing him backwards, making him lie down. "I told you, I told you but you wouldn't listen!"
The dizzy spell passed momentarily and he blinked up at Hestia, gazing at him in worry. "How are you feeling now?" she asked.
"Mortified," replied Sirius sullenly, pushing himself up from the bed. "I can't believe I nearly passed out while we were snogging."
Hestia snorted but could not contain herself. She dissolved into fits of laughter, followed by Sirius who could appreciate the humour in the situation even though he was embarrassed.
Hestia was trying to rein in her amusement. "And that should be a lesson to you. You didn't take your potion, did you? Here," she thrust the goblet of potion into his hands.
Sirius raised it to his lips. "It was still worth it."
Hestia glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes, pressing her lips together as if she was afraid she would succumb to laughter again. Sirius drank the potion without complaint, not wanting to humiliate himself again by passing out at an inopportune moment.
Hestia nodded approvingly and made to sit beside him when there was a loud crack and she jumped back in alarm. Sirius flinched and put away his goblet when he saw Kreacher standing near the door bowing low, his bat-like ears flapping about. His bullfrog voice sounded urgent. "Kreacher is sent by a visitor for you at the house, Master."
Sirius stood up, frowning. With the Potter's house under the Fidelius, it was nigh impossible for anyone to visit them. "Who is it?"
"Kreacher only knows that it is another house-elf."
Sirius was dumbfounded. Another house-elf? Surely not…?
"It is Young Master Harry's, she says."
Sirius felt his heart skip a beat. With no further ado, Sirius grabbed the jacket lying next to the chair and rushed out of the room, pulling it on. Sirius Apparated as soon as he had stepped foot outside the front door and arrived outside the gates of Potter Manor, ignoring the twinge he felt on his shoulder.
He was running across the grounds, lit by the weak November sun, his mind racing with panic. Why was Twitchet there without Harry? Ominous thoughts buzzed in his head when he burst into the front door, and saw the Potter's house-elf waiting for him wearing an inordinately pleased expression on her face.
It was that more than anything that calmed him down enough to ask breathlessly, "Twitchet? Wh-What's happened? Where's Harry?"
"Young Master is finally coming home, Master Sirius!" she said, bowing low and distinctly happy.
Sirius felt his heart soar at her words. "Where is he now?"
"Master Harry wants to bring along a friend, Master Sirius. Master requests you to share the secret."
Sirius hurried to the mantelpiece before she had even finished her sentence, hands shaking feverishly when he picked up a stray quill and scratched down the Potter Manor's address on a piece of parchment. He thrust it into Twitchet's thin hand. "He's coming now?" he asked, still unable to believe her, but hoping with all his heart that it was true.
"Yes Master Sirius," Twitchet beamed, before vanishing. Sirius felt his nerves left him jittery in anticipation. Twitchet said Harry was bringing a friend? Who was it? Seeing as Harry would have to Apparate outside the gates of Potter Manor to bring them along, Sirius dashed across the grounds again. He was only reaching the gates, when he saw someone Apparate right in front of them.
He could see Twitchet and a brown-haired girl but… no Harry.
The girl was sobbing, her hand outstretched as if she had been holding someone, "—please don't—"
Sirius saw Twitchet's eyes streaming as well when he reached them outside. The girl leapt up at the sight of him, but Sirius addressed Twitchet, "Where's Harry?"
"Master forgive me, Master forgive me!" she was bowed on all fours, bawling near his feet.
"Mr. Black!" the girl called out to him hiccupping. "Harry—he should have Apparated with us—but he let go—just when we were about to—I don't know why he'd—"
Sirius couldn't hear the rest of what she said, not with the icy anger clouding his judgement. A low growl made itself known in the back of his throat when he addressed Twitchet through gritted teeth. "You-will-take-me-to-Harry-now-Twitchet-his orders-be-damned! If-you-refuse-"
He need not have spelled out a punishment, for Twitchet glanced up at him in fear and nodded. "Yes, Master. Twitchet wants Young Master home!"
Without waiting for his approval, Twitchet took his hand and Apparated.
Sirius opened his eyes to find himself in a derelict room, its walls and floor made entirely of stone, with patches of sickly looking mould. It seemed to have been recently lived in judging by the way it was clean, despite looking like none of the furniture (a moth eaten sofa and a rickety table were all that was left) had been repaired in decades. The air was saturated with humidity, smelling strongly of salt and seaweed and the loud sound of crashing waves seemingly just outside.
"Harry?"
When there was no response, he glanced at Twitchet, who had tears leaking out of her large eyes again. "Master isn't here! Master isn't here! Twitchet does not understand…"
Sirius was oddly numb to her distress, his anger replaced with disappointment and hurt. He had thought for one glorious moment that this nightmare would end and Harry would be back home safe again. He knew he shouldn't have expected things would be as easy as that. He let out a breath, and crossed to the window to look around.
He was startled to notice that the entire room was a small cabin perched upon rocks in what looked like the middle of the sea. It vividly reminded him of Azkaban, if he could imagine he was higher up in the prison building than closer to the ground. What had Harry been doing here?
He made a thorough inspection of the cabin, taking note of anything that could be of value. Harry was good – there wasn't a single trace of any stray food leftovers or missed clothes. Once he had ensured the single bedroom upstairs was also completely devoid, he made his way out of the cabin to be greeted by a small wooden pier which jutted out into the sea. There was absolutely nothing around them, except for water the sight of land in the distance on his far left.
He made his way back inside the cabin again, where Twitchet was curled into herself looking miserable and felt pity on the poor elf. Sirius stared at her blankly. "Twitchet, let's go home."
Without waiting for her, Sirius Apparated back to the gates of Potter Manor to find the girl sitting against the pine trees which compounded the land. She scrambled to stand at the sight of him. "Harry?"
Sirius shook his head. "Left."
The girl watched him warily, almost afraid and Sirius got a closer look at her. He had the vaguest inclination that he must have seen her the few times he had been to Hogwarts. "Who are you?"
"My name is Demelza, sir. Demelza Robins."
"You're in Harry's Quidditch team, aren't you?" he ventured. He thought he had seen her, when he had visited Harry in the Hospital Wing last year when that fool of a boy had hit Harry in the head with a Bludger.
Demelza seemed taken aback, but nodded fervently. "Yes sir, I was."
Sirius did not miss the past tense in her statement. "Muggleborn?" he guessed to which she nodded.
He gestured with his head to the house. "You should come in. We don't want to linger outside too long."
Demelza nodded again and scurried into the gates, Sirius following close by. Twitchet had arrived inside the house and she seemed to be in an argument with Kreacher, of all things.
"—my Mistress Euphemia will be most displeased by the state of her beloved house—"
"—Kreacher lives to serve only the Noble House of Black! Kreacher will not—"
"Quiet, Kreacher!" barked Sirius before turning to the better of the elves. "Twitchet, I'm sorry, but I cannot trust Kreacher to be left alone in my house, not after he's known the secret of Potter Manor. You wouldn't mind him as long as he stayed here in whatever little hole he wishes to, won't you? I'll make sure he's out of your way."
"Master mustn't concern yourself with us house-elves, sir," said Twitchet, in a reverent voice. "Kreacher is welcome to stay and serve you, Master."
"You're wonderful, you are," he smiled at her before glaring at Kreacher. "You and Twitchet will work here together, understood? You will ensure everything is to Twitchet's liking."
"Of course, Master," bowed Kreacher, visibly restraining himself from making a quip.
The two elves vanished into the depths of the house and Sirius turned towards the girl, who was watching the exchange with wide eyes.
"Sit down." Sirius motioned for her to take a seat by the fireplace. She reluctantly moved towards the sofa and perched herself on the edge of the seat.
"I need you to tell me everything, Demelza. Everything that happened," he said with an edge to his voice indicating there was no room for disagreement.
Demelza looked up at him anxiously and nodded. Assuming that he came across as intimidating while he towered above her, he took the armchair opposite her and asked for Kreacher to bring her a bottle of Butterbeer.
"I don't know where to start," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, holding the Butterbeer with a shaking hand.
"Why don't you tell me how you met Harry? I presume by the fact that you're a Muggleborn that you were somehow meant to be transported from the Hogwarts train to Azkaban?"
Demelza launched into her story of how she had almost been sent to Azkaban but had somehow made a run for it. When she had been captured in Knockturn Alley, Harry had saved her, injuring himself in the process. That explained the mystery that Sirius had been trying to unravel when he had come to know from the Prophet that Harry had been in a muggle hospital. Her story corroborated the assumption Kingsley had made that Harry must have mentioned Voldemort's name. It seemed they had only made it out in the nick of time to the rundown cabin.
Demelza also revealed that Harry had been unwilling to set her free since she was known to be in his presence and had threatened to modify her memories if she attempted to leave. It seemed sensible to Sirius although it stirred something uncomfortable in him.
The two had stayed in the cabin together for a while since Harry's leg had been injured and he had been unable to move around. The thought that Harry had chosen to rather lie low in the cabin for a fortnight when he could have healed it in a moment with Skele-Grow didn't sit well with him. In fact, none of what Harry was doing was sitting well with him, but he supposed his wishes didn't matter at all to Harry.
Sirius was more intrigued when Demelza described her impression of him whilst she stayed with him. "—he was always moody, hardly ever smiled. He would become angry for the smallest of things. It was so unlike the Harry I knew all last year."
Sirius frowned when a notion struck him. "Did he have frequent nightmares?"
He must have touched a nerve for Demelza, who had grown rather comfortable as she told her story, stiffened. "He had them all the time," she whispered. "He said it himself that he could look into You-Know-Who's mind."
Outwardly, Sirius' face became impassive, but the apprehension her words inspired was raging on inside him. Harry should have stopped seeing into his mind. Dumbledore had thought Voldemort would not use the connection again.
"Did he tell you what he dreamt about?"
"No," Demelza shook her head, before hesitantly adding, "but it wasn't always hard to guess. He… He could be rather vocal when he's dreaming."
"And?" pressed Sirius.
"I think he sees You-Know-Who killing people," she whispered, fidgeting uncomfortably. "There were a few times where if I was close enough when he opened them, I could see what he was seeing in his eyes."
Sirius pressed his lips together, feigning a calm he was not feeling. "What else can you tell me about him?"
"Oh, there's more, Mr. Black," she said, eager to pour her heart out. "Harry left me one day in the cabin, saying he was going somewhere and would be back by nightfall. He didn't turn up until the next evening and I was terrified something had happened to him. But he didn't seem to have realized he was a day late. When I told him about it, he was upset but he also revealed it had happened a few times earlier. He said he was losing track of time."
Sirius felt a shiver run down his spine at her sinister account. He stood up and walked towards the window, leaning against the pane. "What do you mean losing time?"
"He said he could feel like only minutes had passed, when it would be hours. I had been with him for many days but I never saw any evidence of what he was saying, so I can't tell you much about it. But I suppose he was worried, because the next time he made a trip outside the cabin, he made sure I came along."
"And where did he take you?"
"I don't know the place, sir," she said politely. "But it was an ancient library in the middle of Knockturn Alley."
"Knockturn Alley?" burst out Sirius. "Is he out of his mind? Why would he go there when the entire Ministry is looking for him?"
"We were Polyjuiced, Mr. Black. We went in with fake identities."
"And that should make me feel better?" snapped Sirius, before he pinched the bridge of his nose, reining in his ire. "What did he want to do in a library?"
"He said we were to search for something called the Elder Wand," said Demelza, narrowing her eyes in recollection. "He wouldn't let me know anything else when I asked him why we were looking for information. We were scanning the books for about an hour when the strangest thing happened."
Sirius peered at her inquisitively and she continued speaking. "He just got up and left without me. I ran after him and called him out, but he said he didn't know who I was," she said, widening her eyes in disbelief. "I thought he was taking the mickey. But since I was Polyjuiced, I also wondered maybe he'd forgotten how I looked like. I told him who I was and I reckon I saw some recognition in his eyes, but he still seemed unsure. I was scared; I begged him to take me back to the cabin, but when we got there, he wouldn't even see me and he dashed straight to the loo, locking himself. He yelled at me to get out when I asked him what was wrong. He didn't come out of his room for an entire day and when I saw him this morning, he went bonkers. He—he…"
As if Sirius had not been more horrified as her tale went on, she began crying in earnest, sobbing into her hands.
"What? What happened? Tell me, Demelza!" he growled impatiently.
"He hit me!" she said between heaving breaths.
"I don't believe you," said Sirius at once, shaking his head, unwilling to accept that Harry would do something like that. "I don't believe any of this."
Demelza glanced up at him, pleading. "No! You have to believe me! He was raving; he didn't even seem like the Harry I knew! He pulled out his wand and I thought I would be a goner if it had not been for Twitchet. She put herself in front of me and warned Harry to stop. I think he recognized her, he always liked her. He appeared shaken by what he had done and immediately told Twitchet we would be going to his home. Twitchet left to get the writing from you and I—I was terrified to be alone with him."
Sirius could not look at her or hear what she was saying without feeling absolutely let down. He glanced outside the window again, the blades of grass on the empty grounds rippling in the cold breeze. "Did he hit you again?"
"No," she said slowly. "He made sure he was far away from me. This all sounds unbelievable, but just a week ago, when he was telling me about the fact that he was losing time…" Demelza trailed off, her voice lowering to a whisper, a hand almost covering her mouth, "…he was really afraid that he could be possessed by You-Know-Who."
Sirius snapped up to look at her. "Did he say he couldn't remember what he'd been doing for long stretches of time?"
Demelza shook her head. "No, sir. We specifically talked about that. He said he could remember everything he was doing, but it just felt like time was passing a lot quicker than it had actually been. We thought then that he could not be possessed, but after this morning, I-I'm not so sure," finished Demelza before standing up and facing him. "Please, sir. I know he's your godson and you have every reason to not take my word. But I don't have any cause to lie."
Sirius stared at her imploring face, abhorring the fact that he was going to have to take this girl's safety above Harry's. "I don't doubt your word," said Sirius finally, "I'm glad he sent you off here."
"And I apologize on his behalf for what he did," he added after a moment.
"Mr. Black, you don't have to apologize," she said kindly, taken aback by his admission. "Harry—I don't think Harry knew what he was doing. But I'm scared for him."
Sirius was still reeling from all the information. He called for Twitchet and asked her to show Demelza to any of the guest rooms and take care of her needs whilst she stayed there for the time being before he decided what to do with her.
Sirius departed to Mr. Potter's study and sat on the chair, but did not have the heart to touch any of the alcohol. He needed his wits about him if he was to figure out exactly what Harry was up to.
All these days, he had been mad at Harry for what he had done, but now his anger was eclipsed by the swirling pit of worry and dread in his stomach. Was Harry being possessed? Since when? And if so, how?
Dumbledore seemed to think that Voldemort had learned to never do it again after the one time that he tried it. And the incident had put both Harry and Voldemort in terrible, agonizing pain – Sirius had been witness to the fact.
But Harry would never attack someone unnecessarily, least of all a mere girl who was also a friend. Recalling that Twitchet had stopped Harry from doing any more harm, he summoned Twitchet who appeared, sullen and miserable.
"Has Harry called for you at all?" he asked, not unkindly.
Twitchet sniffed, wiping her long nose with the sleeve of her toga. "Twitchet has disobeyed her Young Master, sir. Twitchet nearly attacked her master. Twitchet is a bad elf."
She whimpered and Sirius felt the need to explain. "You did the right thing, Twitchet. Harry doesn't know what he's doing. You shouldn't take orders from him, not when he's in this state."
"Master Sirius means well, but Twitchet is bound to her Young Master's wishes."
Sirius nodded absently before asking her, "Did Harry seem any different at all Twitchet? Anything out of the ordinary?"
"Master has forbidden Twitchet to reveal many things, Master Sirius," she besought. "Twitchet has been a bad elf! Twitchet won't—"
Well-versed by now with house-elf speak, thanks to Kreacher, Sirius interrupted her. "Did Harry explicitly tell you not to mention anything about his behaviour?"
"No, Master Sirius," she said finally.
"Then you're not disobeying your master," said Sirius firmly. "You're helping me understand why he's acting strangely. We're doing this to protect him. Don't you think I care for Harry as much as you do?"
Twitchet seemed relieved by his explanation and nodded, before speaking with more conviction. "Master Harry would not call for Twitchet unless needed for food, sir. Master was skipping meals but Twitchet made sure he had them three times a day."
"I'm grateful, Twitchet," he smiled, before forging on. "Did he display any uncharacteristic behaviour? Did he seem volatile to you?"
"Master Harry was most gracious to Twitchet all through our stay, Master Sirius. Master and his friend would argue, sir, many times. My poor master was having many nightmares. Master locked himself up in the room when Miss suggested he get help, sir…"
Sirius interrogated her as much as he could without agitating her, wanting to make sure Demelza had not been lying. Twitchet could support half of Demelza's statement, having been unable to keep watch on Harry round the clock. But it was enough for Sirius to gather much of what had happened.
Sirius dearly wished Dumbledore was here to help him make sense of it all. The fact that Harry had recognized himself to be a danger and sent Demelza to Potter Manor meant he could not be possessed (if that was what was happening), at least not all of the time.
Harry must have known Sirius would question Demelza; he would have known that Sirius would get to know at least a little of what was going on with him. And yet, he had upped and left without a trace, by his own will or by some other sway over him. What was going on with his godson?
As if he had been guided by an unrecognizable force, Sirius' eyes fell on the drawer of Mr. Potter's study and everything fell into place when he slowly realized something. The Slytherin's Locket – the Horcrux that Harry had taken with him.
Sirius stood up, toppling the chair in his haste. He recalled Hermione's words about the soul in the Horcrux having the ability to flit in and out of its vessel. Like Ginny had been possessed by Riddle's diary, Harry had been in contact with it for months!
Wanting to get into the full depths of what exactly these Horcruxes were capable of, Sirius headed out of Potter Manor, intending to get his hands on the book that Hermione had taken from Dumbledore's study.
oOo
A/N: Reviews are the bread and… Oh, you know the drill!
Thank you to everyone who has taken the time out of your day to leave me a review so far. Much love ^ ^
