Harry had barely woken the next morning, when Ron barged into his room, pulling a sweatshirt over his head and complaining about Percy.
"I've got something to tell you—" began Harry, but was interrupted by Fred and George, come to congratulate Ron on annoying Percy.
Harry did not get a chance to speak to Hermione and Ron in private that morning. They were all busy getting ready to go to King's Cross. Hermione was keeping Ginny company, who was still not fully recovered from her ordeal the year before, according to both Harry's friends – he himself would not have been able to say either way, because she was as shy around him as ever. Ron was still arguing with Percy about ruining a photograph of his girlfriend – apparently, that Ravenclaw prefect, Penelope Clearwater, was Percy's girlfriend.
Then there was the chaos of heaving all their luggage into the two ministry cars that were to take them to King's Cross. Mr Weasley's ears had gone red the day before, when trying to explain why they were getting such a preferential treatment. Harry had already surmised by then that Fudge believed him in danger from Sirius, so had known that the cars were due to him, but he doubted anyone believed Mr Weasley's explanation that people from the ministry were doing him a favour.
At the station, Mrs Weasley kissed all her children, then Hermione, and finally Harry. "Do take care, won't you, Harry?" she said, her eyes oddly bright.
Harry was touched by her care, despite being frustrated that she thought him in danger from Sirius. Then Mr Weasley decided to have a word with him in private, and Harry steeled himself as he followed along behind a pillar, already knowing what he was about to hear.
"There's something I've got to tell you before you leave—" said Mr. Weasley in a tense voice.
Harry had given some thought to this the night before. Resolutely, he admitted to having overheard Mr and Mrs Weasley talking the previous night.
Mr Weasley waved away Harry's reassurance that this way, at least, he had not gone against Fudge's orders. "Harry, you must be scared—" he said instead.
"I'm not," said Harry firmly. "Really." He rolled his eyes at Mr Weasley's disbelief. "Black's been on the run for over a year now, and he hasn't done anything against me—"
"He was there in the Chamber of Secrets—"
"—fighting Pettigrew. And how come no one's worried about him, anyway?"
"We believe that Pettigrew, while also dangerous, would've stayed hidden indefinitely if Black had not escaped. He's certainly not the leader—"
"Well, he was the one actually holding us at wandpoint. And he mightn't have been the leader, but he was happy to be helping the possessed Lockhart – possessed by Malfoy's little present. Black attacking him really helped us, actually—"
Mr Weasley opened his mouth – looking taken aback by Harry's words – when they heard Mrs Weasley shouting that the train was about to depart.
"Please tell me you already knew that," said Harry, and even he could hear the frustration in his own voice. Some part of him cautioned him that he was reaching dangerous territory.
"I did…" Mr Weasley replied hesitantly, before calling back to his wife that they were on the way. "But, Harry, listen. I want you to give me your word that you won't go looking for Black, or contact him again – to discover his exact motivation, or for any other reason."
"What? And no such promises about Pettigrew?" Harry tried again.
Mr Weasley tried once again to make him promise, but the shrill whistle sounded, announcing the time for departure, and Harry ran to the compartment door, shouting his goodbyes to Mr and Mrs Weasley.
As soon as the train had picked up speed, Harry turned to his friends. "I need to talk to you in private," he said, and then cringed, as he realised there was only one other person around.
"Go away, Ginny," said Ron.
Hermione tried to soften the blow, tried to tell her she could come and find them 'soon', but Ron shook his head, until Ginny had walked away huffily.
"Ron," admonished Hermione. "She was possessed most of last year – she probably doesn't have any friends! – No offence, Harry."
"Well, then this'll be her chance to make friends. Anyway, Harry's been trying to tell me – us – something since this morning." Ron turned to Harry with curiosity written all over his face.
They walked along the corridor, trying to find an empty compartment, but the best they could do was one with a single occupant – an adult man sitting fast asleep next to the window. They soon determined that he must be the new defence against the dark arts teacher, despite the shabby robes and his ill and exhausted appearance.
"R. J. Lupin… The name sounds familiar, doesn't it?" said Harry. "But I can't remember where from…"
His friends did not recognise the name, so Harry gave up thinking about it. He agreed to stay in the compartment, but would not discuss what he had to tell them inside.
"We can't risk him waking up…" he said, as he led his friends back out to the corridor.
They walked along the row of windows on the other side of the corridor, as Harry talked at length about the argument he had overheard Ron's parents having the night before, the warnings Mr Weasley had given him, and his own response.
Ron and Hermione looked less angry than Harry had expected, and more worried for him.
"Harry, I know you're worried for Sirius, and want him to be declared innocent," said Hermione. "But look at it from Mr Weasley's point of view. Of course he'd warn you not to go looking for trouble—"
"I don't go looking for trouble," said Harry, nettled. "Trouble usually finds me." And was that not the truth? Once again, Harry was reminded of the prophecy involving him, and of the threats Voldemort had spoken to him both times they had fought.
Hermione began to argue back, but then she also remembered, her face turning stricken. "W-well, even more reason to be careful, isn't it?" she said faintly.
"I'm trying to be," Harry replied. He stopped walking, and stood staring out of the window, without taking in the scenery passing by. "But it feels like everyone's gone mad! Pettigrew's alive. You know, before the summer, I thought, once people had thought it over, they'd all realise by themselves that Sirius must be innocent then! Even after Sirius told me about the Veritaserum questioning – considering the sorts of questions he was asked—"
"But people don't know all the details," said Ron.
"Well, still! Why focus on Sirius? Pettigrew was obviously helping to attack Hogwarts students with a basilisk – and he's evaded justice for over a decade! Instead, people think Sirius is trying to kill me, or something – and Pettigrew's his sidekick! They were seen fighting, for—"
"I know, mate," interrupted Ron, much quieter than Harry's now raised voice. "But you saying such things might make matters worse. If you defend Sirius too much, people might figure out that you're in contact with him – and that wouldn't end well."
"I know that."
"Harry, Sirius admitted under Veritaserum that he was responsible for your parents' deaths—" said Hermione.
"Because he was the one to suggest they switch secret keepers!"
"Yes, I know that, but others don't – as Ron said. And Pettigrew just doesn't seem very dangerous in comparison," Hermione went on. "We know he's caused loads of trouble – and harm. But I guess other people just can't believe him capable of so much damage. And as Mr Weasley said, he only made an appearance after Sirius had escaped—"
Harry turned to stare out the window, watching the landscape glide by. "No… The situation's mad even without Pettigrew. Here's the thing. If Sirius had been the traitor, he'd basically have been Pettigrew. You know, a snitch – a friend of my dad's who gave Voldemort access to my parents' home—" He ignored the indrawn breaths behind him. "Well, minus being my godfather, but that hardly matters. So what's with everyone's panic? The whole ministry's looking for him, neglecting their other jobs – I bet Lucius Malfoy loves that! You know, Stan Whatshisname – the Knight Bus conductor – was actually saying Sirius was Voldemort's second in command—"
More indrawn breaths, followed by aborted speech. Harry turned back around, to see his friends' frowning faces.
"Well, what about the twelve muggles killed by a single curse?" said Ron.
"But Pettigrew cast that curse!"
"Exactly!" agreed Hermione. "Pettigrew was never known to be that powerful, but Sirius used to be really good at school, right? So of course people believed that he'd done it—"
"Really, Hermione? You think people believe Sirius to be Voldemort's second in command because he did well in school?" Harry did not bother to tone down the sarcasm.
"Well, that and the obvious," said Ron. He had an odd, almost embarrassed expression, when his friends' uncomprehending eyes swivelled to him. "Well, Sirius, he – he's the heir of the House of Black…"
~HP~
It had been madness to travel on the morning after the full moon. Not that his transformations were ever convenient, but why one had to fall on that night, of all times… He had been in no shape to travel by magical means, of course – even the thought of apparating or travelling through the floo network made him nauseous. So if he had not taken the Hogwarts Express that morning – after taking a muggle train from Wales to London – it would have meant missing the welcoming feast at Hogwarts on his very first day as professor.
A week before, after the first staff meeting of the year – the first staff meeting Remus had ever attended – he had finally made up his mind that he would not let his condition take that away from him. His new colleagues – and what a strange and exhilarating way to think of them as such – had shown mixed feelings about having Remus among them. Some – Hagrid, McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey – had been ecstatic, he had been thrilled to discover. Snape, unsurprisingly, had been openly hostile. Then there were several others, who were trying to be open-minded, but had seemed distrustful of his abilities, considering his condition. Dumbledore, Remus thought, had done a good job of reassuring them of the safety of the students, but there were also his physical disabilities. He would have to miss classes every now and then. After the staff meeting, he had decided that he would begin his teaching career by making the best impression he could. He would turn up for the welcoming feast.
But that had been then and this was now.
For a moment there, during his transfer from Paddington to King's Cross, he had feared he would not make it, he would pass out in the middle of the city, among the muggles, and possibly find himself having to answer very awkward questions afterwards. It had been years since such a thing had happened to him – these days he was very well acquainted with his limits, and had become sensible enough to heed them.
But Hogwarts had beckoned.
The train began to move, and Remus finally allowed himself to pass out. He had made it. He could relax, sleep. He was not expected to move from the spot for hours.
The voices filtered through his sleep-addled mind slowly, blending in with his fitful dreams. He had hoped, being an unknown adult, and in the very last compartment, would deter students from joining him, but it was not to be. Remus heard the door open and shut, and all sorts of rattling luggage being dragged inside. Then there was relative silence again.
The next time he became aware of his travel companions, some time must have passed, because the students seemed long since settled in the cabin. His sleep was interrupted by something large and furry bumping against his legs, which was followed by furious hissing and some raised voices.
"…can't believe you're arguing for him to stay at school, Hermione," a boy's voice was saying. "You didn't mind us sneaking out of school last year—"
In Remus' sleep-addled mind the words began to merge with half-remembered memories, which in turn transformed into short, confusing dream sequences. It sounded so very familiar, this talk of Hogsmeade weekends, of sneaking out of school, of secret passageways and invisibility cloaks…
They must be Gryffindors, Remus thought in his more lucid moments. Every time he fell back asleep, his dreams were filled with bittersweet images of the past, of his three friends that he rarely ever allowed himself to think of these days. He had known being back at Hogwarts might lead to that, but—
"Ron! I don't think Harry should be sneaking out of the school with the minister watching his every move—"
The raised voice woke Remus enough that he finally registered the name. Harry. It could not be, he told himself. His random travel companions could not be talking about James' son. Yet, it sounded oddly like they might be – Dumbledore had told him about the letter Harry had sent to Azkaban, and the reaction Fudge had when hearing about it. What other Hogwarts student could possibly fear being watched by the minister?
"Yeah, I expect a number of people will be trying to keep an eye on me. Not like they've anything better to do – like chase actual criminals – say Pettigrew!"
That voice! It sounded bitter, angry, yet subdued. It was not at all like the self-confident, brash voice of James that still haunted Remus' memories of his childhood. The tone of it, though, was familiar – so much so, that Remus jolted fully awake, now paying attention to what was being said.
"But we've had plenty of practice, getting around Hogwarts undetected," came the spirited voice of the boy called Ron. "And the dementors can't even see—"
Suddenly, their talk of sneaking out of Hogwarts was less reminiscent of fond memories and more a reason to worry. Not least of all, because he was reminded that his – former – friends were also quite adept at getting around Hogwarts undetected, thanks to having worked on an – admittedly ingenious – invasion of the school wards during their school days. Remus doubted that Dumbledore had understood his warning with regards to that – but then again, he had not even mentioned the Marauders' Map—
"Oh, Ron, don't talk rubbish—" the girl began to say, but was interrupted by a faint, tinny sort of whistle coming from somewhere inside the compartment.
Remus twitched involuntarily at the noise, which only added to the students' frantic searching for its source.
"Is that a sneakoscope?" the girl asked interestedly.
"Yeah… mind you, it's a very cheap one," Ron said. "Wonder what set it off… Could've been that beast…"
"It's not Crookshanks! He's not at all untrustworthy—"
There was a sudden silence. Remus, exhaustion overtaking him once again, began to slip back to sleep. The tinny sound faded away. Before he had fully fallen asleep, he realised he himself must have set the sneakoscope off, listening in as he had been to the students' conversation.
"You reckon it was him that set it off?" asked Harry at that moment, and with a jolt Remus realised the boy must be pointing at him.
"It doesn't look like he's awake…"
"Really, Hermione, teachers can also deceive, you know." That was Ron again.
Remus felt a twinge of guilt at hearing that. He did not force his eyes open, as he was in no condition to hold a conversation. Instead, he tried to slip back into sleep. He could not manage it fast enough, of course. Despite the much quieter tones, he listened to the surprising turn the conversation took.
"…Wouldn't we know it. Another year, another defence professor, right?" That bitter voice was Harry's.
"We really can't allow ourselves to be surprised by yet another possessed defence teacher. Harry, where's your foe-glass?" asked the girl called Hermione.
That was followed by more shuffling. Foe-glass? As well as a sneakoscope? Remus' mind was reeling. Initially, the young students' conversation had reminded him of his own mischievous youth, but this well-prepared, organised behaviour he did not recognise.
"Well, it doesn't look like he's a foe…" said Harry.
A quiet snort. "Lockhart wasn't either, to begin with. Doesn't mean he can be trusted," said Ron.
"That's not very nice. He could be a wonderful teacher, for all we know—"
"You thought the same about Lockhart, Hermione—"
"Come on, Ron. She figured him out long before Lockhart was possessed."
"Well, alright. We can wait and see what he's like. Or what Snape makes of him—" said Ron.
"But Snape'll hate him on principle – because he got the defence against the dark arts position!" said Harry.
That was the least of the reasons why Snape hated him, thought Remus. Were Harry and his friends going to base their opinion of him on Snape's? The thought was unexpectedly horrifying.
"Well, Snape didn't hate Quirrel all that much, until Quirrel began trying to steal the stone," said Hermione.
It really sounded like they wanted to rely on Snape's judgement, thought an astonished Remus. Before this, he would have bet that Snape's loathing of James would have extended to Harry to the point where it would have caused Harry to hate Snape in return. It had never occurred to him to consider how he should react if that was not the case. Remus himself was still undecided about how to approach Harry. He did not think it would be the right thing to do, to single him out, by making him aware that he had been a close friend of the Potters'. Remus supposed there were enough people already trying to befriend the famous Harry Potter, without one of his teachers trying to add to it. But having Harry share Snape's opinion of him was too much. Even disregarding his own dismay at the thought, he knew James would have been horrified—
The sneakoscope began to whistle again, until it was stuck inside Harry's trunk to dampen its sound – supposedly so it would not wake Remus.
"Hah! You reckon Snape'll fail to become the most disliked teacher again this year?" said Ron.
"I wouldn't bet on it," said Harry. "He wasn't too far off these last two years, and he was competing against teachers possessed by Voldemort."
This was followed by sniggers from all three students. Remus was not sure what to make of it. Apparently, Harry and his friends did dislike Snape, after all. Yet, they still trusted his opinion. He berated himself for the involuntary displeasure the thought had caused. He had read in the news about some of the things that had happened at Hogwarts the previous two years. He knew Snape had helped to defend the school against the basilisk, Pettigrew and the possessed former defence professor a mere few months ago. As Harry had said, it was difficult to dislike him more than someone possessed and intent on killing a portion of the student body. Perhaps that was all.
There was a part of Remus that disagreed with the assessment. There had been a teasing tone in Harry's voice, when talking about Snape, that did not speak of real hate. The same had been true of his friends. But in the quiet that had fallen, such detailed considerations became difficult, and he slipped back into a fitful sleep.
He did not wake again fully for some time. The familiar sound of the food cart passing by blended in with his dream-memories. He vaguely became aware of being addressed, but it did not last long enough for him to awaken. There was one other interruption later on, as the voices of more students mingled in with the voices of Remus' travel companions. The mention of Malfoy's name stirred a vague worry. There were harsh, angry voices – a confrontation. Someone knocked something over. Remus was on the verge of waking up, but again the situation resolved itself before he was forced to regain consciousness.
It took a much more serious commotion to finally wake him. The train came to a stop with a jolt. Even to his sleeping subconscious this was a clear enough signal that it was time to wake up. On top of that, the lights went out. Then the compartment door was thrown open and more students streamed in. While the students tried to make themselves known in the pitch darkness, Remus got up.
"Quiet!" he said, his voice still sleep-rough and tense.
He conjured some flames, and in their light was able to make out the faces of five students, Harry among them, with his startlingly green eyes, who was the most familiar stranger Remus had ever met. He quickly looked away so he would not stare. Two red-heads – clearly Weasleys, a girl he did not recognise – who must be Hermione, and the Longbottom boy, were the other occupants of the compartment.
"Stay where you are," he told the worried, young faces around him, none older than Harry, as he got up and turned to the door.
It slid open before he had reached it, and he was assailed by the cold, before he had even seen the dementor. Dark thoughts – thoughts that even on good days he had trouble keeping at bay these days – came to the surface, until he felt like he was drowning in them.
Was he deluding himself, letting himself hope without reason? Was he putting everyone in danger, refusing to reveal everything he knew about the other two Marauders' abilities? Just because the Marauders' Map had been confiscated by Filch, did it mean that it was gone for good, and posed no danger? Besides, while he knew he would be unable to recreate it unless he was inside Hogwarts, and could examine the wards (and even then, it would be challenging, requiring him to read up on a fair number of technical books), he also knew that the Sirius Black of old would have had far less trouble with it. It used to be his speciality, that sort of technical spellwork.
He was keeping important information hidden, he knew. No matter how much he tried to reassure himself that the Marauders' Map was not going to turn up, that Black's mind would have deteriorated too much after a decade in Azkaban to still pose such risk, he knew that he was not being entirely honest with Dumbledore – the headmaster, who had allowed him to attend Hogwarts, when such a thing had seemed unthinkable for him; who had now given him his dream job, after that horrible legislation had been introduced and his meagre job offers had completely disappeared.
And yet. Was he not a werewolf? the insidious thought returned. Had Snape not been right to accuse him of still being loyal to his friends? He could not refute it now, in the dementor's presence, as he had done to Snape's face. He had only needed the barest suspicion that all might not be as it seemed – the merest hint of hope—
It was only after Harry had passed out and started convulsing on the floor, that Remus snapped out of his thoughts. The rage he felt at his former friends, for causing him to doubt everything, let him overcome the despair. He stepped closer to the dementor, wand in hand.
"None of us are hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks – or Peter Pettigrew. Go," he said.
When the dementor did not move, he cast a patronus – successfully, despite his current shortage of happy memories. Remus turned back around. Ron and Hermione were kneeling next to Harry, trying to wake him up.
"Who screamed?" Harry asked, as he was helped back to his seat.
"No one screamed," said Ron nervously, clearly worried for his friend.
They all looked pale and shaken, though none as much as Harry. Remus did not need to guess why that was. He did not linger on that thought. Instead, he got out the slab of chocolate he had had the foresight to bring with him, after hearing about the dementors 'guarding' Hogwarts. He broke it into pieces, so everyone could have some, but went to Harry to offer him the first piece.
Harry took the chocolate but did not eat it. "Was that thing a dementor?" he asked with a look of revulsion.
"Yes, one of the dementors of Azkaban," Remus answered, after giving everyone else a piece of chocolate as well.
"The prison guards," said Harry, and there was disgust in his tone, but he looked sad. "Those things are allowed near people?" He looked like he wanted to say something else, but then shook it off, his face settling into a grim expression instead.
His friends – Ron and Hermione, who had been in the compartment with him the entire journey – shot him sympathetic looks.
Remus did not know what to make of that. "Eat," he said instead. "It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me…" He hurried out of the compartment.
Harry's reaction to the dementors had bothered Remus. The knowing, sympathetic looks his friends had given him added to his unease. Fudge thought Harry's letter to Black had induced a wish for revenge. Harry and his friends, though, had mentioned Pettigrew, Fudge and the dementors as opponents to ward against earlier during the journey, but not Black. Harry was merely a child, of course. Yet, if he had written such an angry letter – if it had been his loathing for Black that had induced him to go through the trouble of contacting him – would he now be feeling sorry for the prisoners guarded by dementors?
Dumbledore, during their disquieting meeting in the summer, had suggested that the letter might have caused guilt instead – perhaps even strong enough remorse to make Black fight Pettigrew. It was a possibility. It would mean that whatever had caused the rift between the Marauders, there had still been parts of their friendship that had been true, that the betrayal had not been inevitable – the natural, easy choice for Black. Yet it was not enough for Remus. Never mind that there were far worse explanations to be had for Black's behaviour: It could easily be another deception. Black could be faking a change of heart, now that he had found himself on the losing side, using Harry's letter as a kind of stepping stone for the new manipulation. (But was that sort of behaviour not more reminiscent of someone else?)
No, instead, Remus was clinging to a most dangerous, precarious spark of hope, based on nothing but a theoretical possibility, and the vague suspicion that he and Dumbledore had had the same thought during his visit to Remus' house. What if they had been wrong all along? Considering the chaos the Death Eater trials had been… Dumbledore had wavered, remembering the evidence against Black, he was sure. What if there had been a mistake and Siri- Black had not betrayed them? The most difficult, painful of all his thoughts: What if an innocent man – his friend – had spent a decade in Azkaban, while the real traitor was on the loose?
Remus ran into another dementor on the way to the driver and was forced to get rid of it. The dementor's presence replaced his already disquieting thoughts with crippling doubt: Was there any truth to his hope? Black faking his death, only to reappear in the company of Pettigrew and a criminal teacher possessed by an artefact of Voldemort, before disappearing again, without pleading his innocence, without offering any explanations whatsoever – it was hardly irrefutable proof of his innocence.
Worse, even – had any of it been true?
He had been devastated when he had learned of Black's betrayal, all those years ago. Perhaps even more so than he had been by James' death. It had been war, he had constantly feared losing his friends – especially James and Lily, with the prophecy hanging over their heads. When it had finally happened, it had not come as a shock, no matter how painful it had been. He had mourned Pettigrew just as much, constantly hurting from the fact that he had lost even that last one of his friends, unwilling to understand why he had to die as well. But finding out that Black had been the traitor had shaken everything he believed, had cast a shadow over every happy memory he had.
Yet, one friend out of three, one Marauder out of four having fallen, he had been able to come to terms with over the years. Finding out that Pettigrew had been a traitor had shown him that he had still more to lose. If two of the four Marauders had conspired to kill a third, then clearly nothing Remus had believed of his friendships had been true.
Unless Sirius was innocent.
Disturbed at the direction of his thoughts, Remus forced himself to deal with the matter at hand. He spoke to the driver, to discover that they were a mere ten minutes away from Hogwarts, reassured students he met on the way, and then returned to his compartment.
Back in the cabin, he found Harry and his friends talking in hushed voices. The sight of James' son, so very similar to his late father, finally focused Remus' resolve. There was one thing he was sure of. His friendship with James and Lily had been real, had been true. Despite all the upheaval in his life, his belief in that was still unshaken, and so was his loyalty to them.
He would stay true to them in turn. He would do his best to protect Harry while he was at Hogwarts. He might even talk to Harry, tell him of his friendship with his parents, share some of his memories…
~HP~
Harry was thoroughly embarrassed by the time he reached Hogwarts. Malfoy had wasted no time to make fun of him for fainting in the presence of a dementor. He suspected everyone in the school would know about it by morning. As if that was not enough, McGonagall found him at the entrance to the great hall, and took him and Hermione – but not Ron – to her office, where Harry had to be looked over by Madam Pomfrey, because apparently the new defence teacher had reported his fainting spell.
Next, their head of house wanted to have a word about their course schedules. "Do you know, you two are the only students this year who have chosen both arithmancy and divination as electives? A most unusual combination," she said, with no small amount of vexation. "Miss Granger, you've chosen every subject, of course, and as promised last year, the school will accommodate you. I did ask the ministry and got permission for you to use this—" She set a small box on the table.
"Oh, is that—" Hermione broke off, looking at Harry suspiciously.
It was such a strange reaction from his friend, that Harry raised his eyebrows. Was she hiding something from him?
"Yes, it's the time-turner, Miss Granger, requested in your name. But because only the two of you wanted to take both arithmancy and divination, we still decided to schedule both subjects together – the timetables would've been a nightmare, otherwise." She looked at them meaningfully.
So Hermione really had been hiding something from him. Harry was feeling completely out of the loop, never having heard of a time-turner. The name did sound intriguing, he thought.
"So… I'm supposed to share my time-turner with Harry?" asked Hermione, catching on quickly.
"We thought it would be best. A request for a time-turner for a student with only three electives likely wouldn't have been granted – especially, well…" She trailed off, flustered.
Harry's shoulders slumped. "You know about the letter, then?" he asked.
"The one you sent to Black? Yes. I believe you're aware that you're thought to be in some danger, Mr Potter," said Professor McGonagall. "But I have every confidence in Miss Granger that she will not use the time-turner for – unadvised – purposes. I also trust that you, Mr Potter, won't do anything that might get your friend in trouble with the ministry." Once both her students had nodded, she went on briskly, "Well, then. Let me explain its usage and the laws surrounding it…"
Once they were finally dismissed and made their way to the great hall, they found that they had missed the sorting. They did enjoy the rest of the feast, after which they got to congratulate Hagrid on his appointment as the new care for magical creatures professor.
Harry was still feeling the festive mood, when he told his dorm mates that he wanted to go for a walk before curfew a little while later. Ron smirked at him knowingly, as Harry collected his two-way mirror and his map, and set out to find a secure spot from which to call Sirius, finally settling on an empty classroom.
Harry had much to tell his godfather. He began with the new defence professor. Sirius looked concerned, when Harry told him he and his friends suspected the teacher might have overheard their conversation on the train, despite appearing to be asleep. Sirius did not even argue that Snape's clear dislike of the new teacher was a warning sign – until Harry happened to mention that said teacher's name was Lupin.
"Remus!" Sirius barked a laugh. "You've got Professor Moony as an actual professor!"
It was difficult to say which of them was more surprised at the revelation. Harry was embarrassed that he had not recognised the name of someone Sirius had mentioned to him regularly – but admittedly mostly referred to as Remus, or Moony. Sirius wanted to know every detail – and had a few choice words to say about Snape's reaction – but was not worried to hear that his old friend had looked ill and exhausted.
"It was the full moon last night, I'm surprised he managed to stay awake long enough to get on the train," he said. "If you'd actually had a look through your astronomy book, you might've known that—"
Harry quickly moved on to telling Sirius about the dementor on the Hogwarts Express. He downplayed his own embarrassing reaction, though he did gripe about Malfoy telling everyone about it, and Madam Pomfrey thinking him delicate.
Sirius answered with another of his bark-like laughs. "Delicate? You? She should've seen you fight the basilisk last spring!"
Harry was instantly cheered by the reminder, even though his godfather had not actually witnessed much of that fight.
Then Sirius sobered. "I'm sorry you had to meet one of those foul things."
"Me? You spent ten years with them around—"
"Mostly as Padfoot," Sirius said lightly. "Even as a human, they never had that strong an effect on me. But you – with all that darkness you've had to suffer – should never have been forced into their company—"
"It was just embarrassing," muttered Harry. "I was the only one who fainted. Even Ginny didn't, and she's had a pretty disturbing year—" Harry waved off his godfather's attempts to reassure him. "I'm fine. Just annoyed that they'll be here all year, all around the school. I'll have to think of ways to get around them, when I sneak out. Dumbledore warned us – me – that the invisibility cloak won't hide me from them."
Sirius nodded, and made Harry promise to discuss any plans to sneak out with him first – so he could help with the planning. Harry, who had harboured a slight fear that Sirius might disapprove of his plans to sneak out of school, perked up.
"You know, it'd be really useful if I were an animagus as well," he mused. "I'd be much safer from the dementors, and it'd make sneaking out in general so much easier…"
Sirius laughed loudly enough that Harry anxiously glanced at his map, to make sure there was no one nearby to hear.
"Don't get me wrong, Harry. I'd certainly love to teach you," said Sirius. "But I don't think you understand how difficult it is. Besides, there are other ways to ward against dementors. There's that spell Remus used on the train – from how Hermione described it to you, it must've been the patronus charm. That's also very advanced, though. Honestly, the safest thing you can do is stay away from the dementors—"
"But you wouldn't mind teaching me how to become an animagus, if I wanted to?" asked Harry, excitement rising. Once again, Sirius seemed a lot more amenable to Harry's wishes than expected, much to the boy's surprise.
"No," Sirius replied slowly, having picked up on Harry's reaction. "Are you really interested? I have to warn you, it's a lot of work—"
"I'll do it," said Harry at once. He stared at his godfather's happy smile, and suddenly no longer knew why he had thought Sirius would shoot down the idea. "When can we start?"
Sirius really was beginning to look excited at the prospect of teaching him, and agreed to tell him all the details as early as the next evening.
Finally, before they said goodnight, Harry remembered to tell Sirius about the time-turner.
His godfather's eyes sharpened, and he visibly sat forward in excitement. "Now, that's interesting…"