Chapter 19: Hogsmeade

Madam Pomfrey insisted on keeping Harry in the hospital wing for the rest of the weekend.

"What did you do with my broom?" Harry asked Dawn and Willow when they came to visit him.

"We sent it to Xander," Willow said. She and Dawn had sent the pieces explicit with instructions to rebuild it as best as Xander could and then mount it so that it could be hung in Harry's room at the ISC.

"We know it's beyond repair," Dawn said. "But maybe Xander can at least fit the pieces back together and mount it so that it can be hung in your room back home."

Harry smiled at his aunts. He always enjoyed when they did things for him like this. Then his smile faded. "Aunt Dawn do you …"

"From your divination lesson," Dawn said. "I saw it too. I checked after the match. I couldn't find it anywhere on the grounds."

Harry was finally released Monday morning in time for his classes.

That afternoon Lupin walked into Dawn and Willow's classroom just as Harry and the other Gryffindor's were.

"I got a hinkypunk," he said.

"Thanks," Willow and Dawn said as Lupin set the glass box on their desk and turned and walked out of the room.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Willow and Dawn stood on either of the glass box, that Lupin had brought, in front of Harry's class.

"Thanks to Professor Lupin once again," Willow said, "we have a hinkypunk. So we will continue with the lesson we should have had last time. Hinkypuns lure travelers into bogs. You notice the lantern dangling from his hand? Hops ahead—people follow the light—then—"

The hinkypunk made a horrible squelching noise against the glass.

When the bell rang, everyone gathered up their things and headed for the door.

Willow left and headed for Lupin's classroom. She knocked on the door and he looked up from his desk.

"Professor Rosenberg-Summers," he said.

"Willow, please," Willow said. "I just wanted to say thanks again. Twice now you helped us get the creatures we needed for lessons."

"You're welcome," Lupin said and then he shook his head. "You know I still can't get over the fact you remind me of a friend of mine."

"Who was she?" Willow said innocently. She of course knew who he was referring to. But she wanted him to mention it.

"Uhm, Harry's mother," Lupin said. "She died when he was a year old."

Willow smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I know Lils," she said.

"You knew Lily?" Lupin asked confused. He wondered how this American knew his friend who had died years before.

"I'm her sister," Willow said.

Lupin's eyes widened in realization at who Willow was. "You're the one that was adopted by an American couple."

"That's right," Willow said.

"That explains why you look so much like her," Lupin said. "She talked about you, mostly to James though. But occasionally to the rest of us as well. She missed you."

"And I missed her," Willow said. "I didn't even know she had died till last year when Albus came and offered me and Dawn to teach the Defense class."

"I can understand why he would ask Dawn," Lupin said. "She herself mentioned that she was a Slayer. But why you?"

"First, as you know I'm a Wiccan witch," Willow said. "Second, because I lived in Sunnydale, California on top of a Hellmouth till I turned twenty two."

"Of course," Lupin said. "And a Hellmouth would have hidden your from any scrying magic. That explains why Dumbledore placed Harry with his muggle aunt and uncle instead of you."

"That's right," Willow said. "In fact the Hellmouth hid me so well that even the Magical Congress of the United States of America, U.S.'s version of the Ministry of Magic didn't know I or Dawn were witches. We received no formal training. Hence why we are Wiccan instead of wand."

"I've heard that the laws on Wiccan magic are a lot more relaxed than they are here though," Lupin said.

Willow shrugged. "Pretty much. When we left Sunnydale, the U.S., version of the Ministry finally learned about Dawn and I. We were brought before their version of the Wizengamont to explain why we had not trained at a school. When we told them we had lived on the Hellmouth, they released us without another word. It surprises me they didn't say anything when I tried to end the world. Even you guys heard about that over here. I've even had people shy away from me in Diagon Alley. So I know at least some wizards and witches know my name and what I look like."

"They may, I don't know," Lupin said. "I rarely read the Daily Prophet myself."

"I've been meaning to ask," Willow said. "I've noticed you have been keeping an eye on Harry."

Lupin sighed. "I'm not Harry's godfather. But I promised Lily and James that I would look out for him. For the most part I never really had much to worry about. Yes he was not in the best of homes but he was relatively safe there. He was also relatively safe here as well. It wasn't till Harry faced Voldemort not once, but twice, why I decided to approach Dumbledore for a way to help protect Harry. Especially after Sirius escaped from Azkaban."

"Thank you for looking out for him. But that is mine and Dawn's jobs. We are his aunts after all."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Aunt Dawn," Harry said from the door to Dawn and Willow's office.

Dawn smiled at her nephew and motioned for him to enter. "How are you doing, Harry?"

Harry let out a sigh. "Not well, Aunt Dawn. I was wondering … Why? Why do the dementors affect me like that? Am I just—?"

Dawn sighed too and motioned for Harry to sit down next to her. "From what I've read on them. They are among some of the most evil of the demonic races that walk the earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them. From what I've read even non-magical folk like Xander and Anya can feel their presence, though they can't see them. Get too close and they will affect you in ways that … Let me put it this way, they feed on our happiest of memories, on the feelings that bring us the most joy. Given long enough they will devour your soul. You'll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. And the worst that happened to you, Harry, is enough to make anyone fall off their broom. You have nothing to feel ashamed of."

"When they get near me—" Harry stared at his aunt, his throat tight. "I can hear Voldemort murdering my mum."

"You can hear him killing Lily?" Dawn asked.

Harry nodded.

"This is going to stay between us," she said. "We're not going to mention that when they are around that you can remember your mom being killed. It's not a happy memory for you, nor would it be for Willow, either."

Harry nodded in agreement. For his Aunt Willow, knowing how his mom had died was bad enough. Knowing that he remembered it would be worse. "Of course, Aunt Dawn. Aunt Dawn, do you know why they came to the match?"

"They're getting hungry," said Dawn. "As you know Albus won't let them into the school, so their supply of human prey has dried up … I don't think they could resist the large crowd around the Quidditch field. All that excitement… emotions running high… it was their idea of a feast."

"Azkaban must be terrible," Harry muttered.

"Probably," Dawn agreed with a sigh. "I can see why they are the guards though; they're perfect for the job. And why the ISC, and the Watcher's Council, before it has never heard of this kind of demon before. Because the wizarding world keeps them in check. And there is little hope of their wards escaping."

"But Sirius Black escaped from them," Harry said slowly. "He got away…"

"You're right," Dawn agreed. "He must have found a way to fight off their influence."

"Aunt Dawn," Harry said, "you said you made the dementor back off at the match."

"I used a spell I had witness Professor Lupin using on the train," Dawn said. "Would you like me to teach you the spell?" Harry nodded. "Then we'll start your lessons up again."

"You're going to teach me Wiccan again?" Harry asked. "I thought …"

"It's illegal yes," Dawn said. "But a couple things have changed since the summer. First of all, Willow and I could care less about what the Ministry wants. Especially after Minister Fudge tried to get us to restrict your movements during the summer. Second of all, is the fact that Willow holds your seats on the Wizaengament, remember?"

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Dawn and Willow attended every practice session they were able to. They could tell that Harry seemed happier now that Dawn and Willow were teaching him Wiccan magic again.

Two weeks before the end of the term, the sky lightened suddenly to a dazzling, opaline white and the muddy grounds were revealed one morning covered in glittering frost. Inside the castle, there was a buzz of Christmas in the air. Both Ron and Hermione had decided to remain at Hogwarts, and though Ron said it was because he couldn't stand two weeks with Percy, and Hermione insisted she needed to use the library, Dawn and Willow were sure that they were doing it to spend time with them and Harry since they were not going home for Christmas this year.

To everyone's joy there was to be another Hogsmeade trip on the very last weekend of the term.

"We can do all our Christmas shopping there!" said Hermione as she, Harry and Ron entered Dawn and Willow's office. "Mum and Dad would really love those Toothflossing Stringmints from Honeydukes!"

"Are you three ready for the trip?" Willow asked as the trio all nodded.

On the Saturday morning of the Hogsmeade trip Willow and Dawn escorted Harry, Ron and Hermione to Hogsmeade where they told the trio they would meet them for lunch and bid good-bye to the trio. As Hermione, Ron and Harry ran into Honeydukes Fred and George Weasley came up to them. "Professors," Fred said. "Normally we wouldn't even show this to a teacher."

"Because then it would do no good to anyone," George added.

"But with the stuff with Sirius Black and Harry."

"We think you two should have it."

Fred pulled something from inside his cloak with a flourish and handed it to Willow.

Dawn suddenly gasped out as a memory surged into her mind. "The Marauder's Map," she said.

"That's right," George said.

"How did you know?" Fred asked.

"I'm not only a Slayer or a witch, but also a seer," Dawn said. "And I just had a flash of what would happen if Willow and I had not signed Harry's permission slip for Hogsmeade. You would have given it to him."

"Then you know how to use it?" George asked.

"Yes," Dawn said as she pulled out her wand and tapped the map. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

And at once, thin ink lines began to spread like a spider's web from the point that Dawn's wand had touched. They joined each other, they crisscrossed, they fanned into every corner of the parchment; then words began to blossom across the top, great, curly green words, that proclaimed:

Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present

The Marauder's Map

It was a map showing every detail of the Hogwarts castle and grounds. Right now they noticed it showed nothing more than the layout.

"It won't work except inside the grounds of course," Fred said.

"Thank you Fred, George," Willow said and she kissed both boys on the cheek. "This will help us to keep Harry safe."

"Mischief managed!" Dawn said as she tapped her wand on the map again and it went blank.

Fred and George then turned and headed off in a different direction.

Dawn and Willow walked around Hogsmeade and smiled. The village looked like a Christmas card; the little thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow; there were holly wreaths on the doors and strings of enchanted candles hanging in the trees.

Finally it was time to meet Harry, Ron and Hermione. They made their way to the Three Broomsticks and entered the tiny inn. It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm, and smoky. A curvy sort of woman with a pretty face was serving a bunch of rowdy warlocks up at the bar.

"Madam Rosmerta," Dawn said as she and Willow headed for a booth. "Five butterbeers, please."

"Coming right up, Professor Rosenberg-Summers," Rosmerta answered.

No sooner had they sat down at the vacant table between the window and a handsome Christmas tree, than Rosmerta brought them the butterbeers.

There was a sudden breeze as the door of the Three Broomsticks had opened. Dawn and Willow looked expectantly thinking it would be Ron, Harry and Hermione and instead saw McGonagall and Flitwick enter the pub with a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with Minister Fudge.

Fudge moved toward the bar, paused, then turned and walked right toward Rosmerta.

"A small gillywater—"

"Mine," said McGonagall voice.

"Four pints of mulled mead—"

"Ta, Rosmerta," said Hagrid.

"A cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella—"

"Mmm!" said Professor Flitwick, smacking his lips.

"So you'll be the red currant rum, Minister."

"Thank you, Rosmerta, m'dear," said Fudge. "Lovely to see you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won't you? Come and join us…"

"Well, thank you very much, Minister."

Dawn and Willow watched as Romerta went behind the bar got the drinks and returned.

"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?" Rosmerta said as she followed Fudge, Hagrid, McGonagall and Flitwick to a table next to Willow and Dawn's.

"What else, m'dear, but Sirius Black?" Fudge said as he lowered his voice to a whisper. "I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Halloween?"

"I did hear a rumor," admitted Rosmerta.

"Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?" said McGonagall exasperatedly.

"Do you think Black's still in the area, Minister?" whispered Rosmerta.

"I'm sure of it," said Fudge shortly.

"You know that the dementors have searched the whole village twice?" said Rosmerta, a slight edge to her voice. "Scared all my customers away… It's very bad for business, Minister."

"Rosmerta, m'dear, I don't like them any more than you do," said Fudge uncomfortably. "Necessary precaution… unfortunate, but there you are… I've just met some of them. They're in a fury against Dumbledore—he won't let them inside the castle grounds."

"I should think not," said McGonagall sharply. "How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?"

"Hear, hear!" squeaked Flitwick.

"All the same," demurred Fudge, "they are here to protect you all from something much worse… We all know what Black's capable of…"

"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," said Rosmerta thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought… I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead."

"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," said Fudge gruffly. "The worst he did isn't widely known."

"The worst?" said Madam Rosmerta, her voice alive with curiosity. "Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?"

"I certainly do," said Fudge.

"I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?"

"You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," murmured McGonagall. "Do you remember who his best friend was?"

"Naturally," said Rosmerta, with a small laugh. "Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here—ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!"

Dawn looked to Willow and gave Willow's hand a comforting squeeze. While they knew that Black had at one time been James friend, it was still a subject that riled Willow up a little.

"Precisely," said Professor McGonagall. "Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course—exceptionally bright, in fact—but I don't think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers—"

"I dunno," chuckled Hagrid. "Fred and George Weasley could give 'em a run fer their money."

"You'd have thought Black and Potter were brothers!" chimed in Flitwick. "Inseparable!"

"Of course they were," said Fudge. "Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily. Then they named him godfather to Harry. Harry has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him."

Willow's eyes went wide as she slid out of the booth and walked around to stand next to Hagrid. "Is that true," she asked? "Black is still Harry's godfather? I would have thought that would have been annulled the moment he had been sent to prison."

"Yes," Fudge said. "And it gets worse than that my dear. I don't mean to alarm you Professor Rosenberg. But the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm."

"How does that work?" said Rosmerta, breathless with interest. Professor Flitwick cleared his throat.

"An immensely complex spell," he said squeakily, "involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find—unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. As long as the Secret-Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Lily and James were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nose pressed against their sitting room window!"

"So Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper?" asked Willow.

"Naturally," said McGonagall. "James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself… and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters' Secret-Keeper himself."

"He suspected Black?" gasped Rosmerta.

"He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements," said McGonagall darkly. "Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who."

"But James insisted on using Black?" Willow wondered.

"He did," said Fudge heavily. "And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed—"

"Black betrayed them?" breathed Willow.

"He did indeed. Black was tired of his double-agent role, he was ready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and he seems to have planned this for the moment of the Potters' death. But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Harry Potter. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed. His master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colors as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it—"

"Filthy, stinkin' turncoat!" Hagrid said, so loudly that half the bar went quiet.

"Shh!" said McGonagall.

"I met him!" growled Hagrid. "I musta bin the last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me what rescued Harry from Lily an' James's house after they was killed! Jus' got him outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across his forehead, an' his parents dead… an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' motorbike he used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin' there. I didn' know he'd bin Lily an' James's Secret-Keeper. Thought he'd jus' heard the news o' You-Know-Who's attack an' come ter see what he could do. White an' shakin', he was. An' yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN' TRAITOR!" Hagrid roared.

"Hagrid, please!" said Professor McGonagall. "Keep your voice down!"

"How was I ter know he wasn' upset abou' Lily an' James? It was You-Know-Who he cared abou'! An' then he says, 'Give Harry ter me, Hagrid, I'm his godfather, I'll look after him—' Ha! But I'd had me orders from Dumbledore, an' I told Black no, Dumbledore said Harry was ter go ter his aunt an' uncle's. Black argued, but in the end he gave in. Told me ter take his motorbike ter get Harry there. 'I won't need it anymore,' he says. I shoulda known there was somethin' fishy goin' on then. He loved that motorbike, what was he givin' it ter me for? Why wouldn' he need it anymore? Fact was, it was too easy ter trace. Dumbledore knew he'd bin the Potters' Secret-Keeper. Black knew he was goin' ter have ter run fer it that night, knew it was a matter o' hours before the Ministry was after him. But what if I'd given Harry to him, eh? I bet he'd've pitched him off the bike halfway out ter sea. His bes' friends' son! But when a wizard goes over ter the Dark Side, there's nothin' and no one that matters to 'em anymore…"

A long silence followed Hagrid's story. Then Rosmerta said with some satisfaction, "But he didn't manage to disappear, did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!"

"Alas, if only we had," said Fudge bitterly. "It was not we who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew—another of the Potters' friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper, he went after Black himself."

"Pettigrew… that fat little boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?" said Rosmerta.

"Hero-worshipped Black and Potter," said McGonagall. "Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rather sharp with him. You can imagine how I—how I regret that now…" She sounded as though she had a sudden head cold.

"There, now, Minerva," said Fudge kindly, "Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eyewitnesses—Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later—told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing, 'Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?' And then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens…"

Professor McGonagall blew her nose and said thickly, "Stupid boy… foolish boy… he was always hopeless at dueling… should have left it to the Ministry…"

"I tell yeh, if I'd got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn't've messed around with wands—I'd've ripped him limb—from—limb," Hagrid growled.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid," said Fudge sharply. "Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after Black murdered all those people. I—I will never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street, so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggles screaming. And Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him… a heap of bloodstained robes and a few—a few fragments—"

Fudge stopped suddenly and took a moment to gather himself before continuing. "Well, there you have it," he said thickly. "Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Black's been in Azkaban ever since."

Rosmerta let out a long sigh. "Is it true he's mad, Minister?"

"I wish I could say that he was," said Fudge slowly. "I certainly believe his master's defeat unhinged him for a while. The murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man—cruel… pointless. Yet I met Black on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark; there's no sense in them… but I was shocked at how normal Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought he was merely bored—asked if I'd finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the dementors seemed to be having on him—and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know. Dementors outside his door day and night."

"What do you think he's broken out to do?" said Rosmerta. "Good gracious, Minister, he isn't trying to rejoin You-Know-Who, is he?"

"I daresay that is his—er—eventual plan," said Fudge evasively. "But we hope to catch Black long before that. I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing… but give him back his most devoted servant, and I shudder to think how quickly he'll rise again…"

"But that's not the only thing right?" Willow asked. "You wouldn't have the dementors here if it were."

"Correct," Fudge said. "As you know Willow, we believe that he may be after your nephew."

"You know, Cornelius, if you're dining with the headmaster, we'd better head back up to the castle," said McGonagall.

One by one, Hagrid, Flitwick, Fudge and McGonagall left. Rosmerta made her way back before the bar. And Willow sat back at hers and Dawn's table to await the arrival of Harry, Hermione and Ron. All the while Dawn was holding her lover trying to comfort her the best she could.