The Search Begins
With Pettigrew locked up, Bones, Moody, and Tonks had returned to the mainland with Sirius Black in tow and taken him to Hogwarts.
Black himself was now in a small stall blocked by a cream-coloured curtain, standing by a porcelain sink with golden taps, in front of an ornate, golden mirror. In his hand was a golden razor, which he was using to trim away any hair that had grown on his face during his time in prison.
Any amount would have been more easily indicated by the pair of golden scissors that rested before the mirror, but by now, Black has trimmed his prison beard into a goatee, looking much more desirable than Vernon Dursley's mustache.
After placing his razor down, he picked up a small, golden toothbrush, squeezing toothpaste from a maroon-coloured tube, before pressing it to his mouth and brushing like it was his last chance to.
Black may have been satisfied enough with how his goatee looked, but he couldn't say the same for his teeth. Even after he put his toothbrush down, he noticed his mouth felt spicy. Picking the tube up again, he noticed it read Piquant Toothpaste - Clean Teeth, Healthy Feeling Gums, and Magical Taste.
"Well, they got the last bit right," he mumbled to himself.
If anyone was on the other side of the curtain, they would have heard a flushing sound earlier on, but when the curtain was pulled open again, Black landed upon a large bathtub sunk quite deep into a marble floor, its golden taps embedded with jewels in varying colours.
Falling to his knees, he twisted a ruby-encrusted tap, releasing a flood of red water into the tub, before twisting two more, emitting red foam and soap bubbles. Turning two amber-encrusted taps, some golden foam and bubbles poured out, before Black laid his hands on one final tap;
Smiling guiltily, he twisted a thin, emerald-encrusted tap, which let out scores of emerald green bubbles. He slipped out of the plain black robes he was given to replace his prison uniform, before climbing into the tub, stretching and leaning back into the warm water.
Outside the bathroom, Madam Bones stood with her back to the door, feeling the lofts of steam seeping under the door at her ankles, before it was replaced with the sound of water going down the drain.
The door flew open and Bones saw Black standing in the doorway, wrapped again in the black robes he'd been given, his still wet hair looking like it had been combed back.
"Feeling pampered yet, Black?" she surmised.
"Absolutely," he sighed.
"Good," she replied. "How about making yourself just a touch more presentable."
She pulled out her wand, waving it across Black's head, blowing a stream of hot air from the tip, quickly releasing the water from his hair and all the crevices on his face.
"There," Bones concluded. "Aside from attending to all your medical needs, perhaps all else that's needed is a haircut."
"Maybe," Black grinned, eliciting a wrinkled nose from Madam Bones.
"Or perhaps some Gentleman's tooth-pearling paste," she suggested. "I'm sure Dumbledore can offer us some solution."
"Dumbledore?!" Black cried. "I've got a few words to say to him!"
"Yes, yes, Black," Bones dismissed. "I'm sure he'll be glad to hear it. Now come along, we musn't keep him waiting."
Bones grabbed Black by the arm and led him down four full flights of stairs, surrounded by other staircases shifting their positions, until they reached a set of open double doors, leading into a room filled with beds covered in white sheets, separated by cream-coloured privacy screens.
Black was brought to the very first bed as Madam Bones pushed its bedpan aside, seating him on its edge, pointing a finger as if to order him not to move.
Into the ward stepped a worried-looking middle-aged woman in a white matron's uniform with silver hair and blue eyes.
"M... Madam... P... Pomfrey..." Black stuttered.
"I don't see you in my hospital for over twelve years and that's the first thing you say to me, Sirius Black?" Pomfrey cried.
"Has it been that long?" he croaked.
"Actually, don't bother saying anything more," she insisted. "I heard the whole story already."
Pomfrey removed a small, amber bottle filled with a thick, white liquid with bubblegum pink swirls floating to the top, where bubbles the same colour were bursting. She uncorked the bottle and handed it to Sirius.
"Drink this," she ordered.
Black downed the contents of the bottle, making a face like he'd just tasted a three-way mix between a vanilla milkshake, a pair of smelly feet, and actual bubblegum. A taste like that meant he wasn't sure whether or not it was enticing or repulsive.
"Those years in Azkaban haven't been kind to you Black," Pomfrey noted. "But that will help catch you up within a day or two. Regaining lost nutrients is nothing compared to growing back bones, which is more than I can say for that godson of yours."
"Godson?" Sirius requested. "What about my godson?"
"I see him quite a bit each year in this very wing," Pomfrey explained. "I'd tell you why, but perhaps I ought to let the headmaster fill you in. He explained to me everything that's happened today, thus, he insisted on telling you the rest."
"If I may, Poppy, I will take it from here" interrupted the voice of Dumbledore.
He stood in the doorway, trying to shower Sirius with his grandfatherly presence. Black narrowed his eyes at him, but he retained his bearings.
"Alright then Albus, I'll leave you to it," Pomfrey concluded. "You may go now, Black."
Dumbledore took Black by the shoulder and helped him off his feet, leading him out of the hospital wing, up another flight of stairs, down a corridor guarded by a sapient gargoyle awaiting at the end.
"Sherbet Lemon," he spoke.
The gargoyle stepped aside, clearing the way for Dumbledore and Sirius to climb up a spiral staircase into his office. Dumbledore pulled out the seat from his desk and set one up for Sirius, who seated himself rather quickly.
"Well then, shall we?" he suggested.
"Yes," Sirius accepted. "We shall."
Dumbledore sat, while Black eyed him expectantly, ignoring the jar at the other end of the desk, containing some dry-looking yellow sweets.
"Speaking of passwords, would you care for a sampling?" Dumbledore offered.
"No, thank you," Sirius declined. "Let's talk instead, Albus."
"That is the exact reason I've brought you here, Sirius," Dumbledore explained.
"Good," Black replied. "Then I know just where to start; First of all, after twelve years, how is it now that I'm suddenly brought back into the light?"
"It was all thanks to unforeseen evidence," Dumbledore replied. "A photograph you, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew had given to Remus Lupin. With it, we've discovered Pettigrew to be in the possession of Arthur Weasley's sons, as a rat, if you will."
"So, you've finally discovered the untold truth?" Sirius grumbled.
"Yes," Dumbledore confirmed. "And thus, he is now in Ministry custody."
"So I've noticed," Black murmured. "You could have taken my word for it just as easily."
"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed. "But circumstances being what they were, I felt it only appropriate to place your godson in a protective location."
"Speaking of which," Sirius interrupted. "Let's talk about my godson. I'm told you sent Hagrid to filch him from me, and take him to Lily's sister and her walrus of a husband. I know this much because I lent him my motorcycle just for that."
"I did it with only their best interests in mind, Sirius," Dumbledore insisted.
"Perhaps, Albus," Black interjected. "You forget Petunia's deliberate choice to miss Lily and James' wedding."
"I'm well aware of tensions between family, Sirius," Dumbledore placated. "Having denied Petunia's request to attend Hogwarts and participated in the said wedding. But in time, I believe these tensions may be healed."
Black sighed in defeat, as if Dumbledore were implying some sort of family-related guilt in him.
"With that said, there is hope for you yet to see young Harry again," Dumbledore promised.
Sirius perked his shoulders up, but his expression remained narrow.
"How?" he requested.
"It's come to my attention that he's left Britain, yet the protection I placed on him remains," Dumbledore replied.
"Protection?" Black queried. "What protection? Is my godson missing?!"
"There are protective wards I placed on his relatives' home, connected to his family blood," Dumbledore explained. "But I'm afraid I'm getting ahead of myself. I have not determined his exact whereabouts yet, nor the involvement of his relatives apart from one letter he's written. For that reason, I've gathered a search party, which will require your participation."
"I'll be there," Black promised. "You can be sure of it."
"Perfect," Dumbledore concluded. "We meet at the Hog's Head shortly, now come along."
Dumbledore led Sirius out of the office, back down the spiral staircase, through the gargoyle's corridor, back down the first flight of stairs, and through a covered cloister out to a rectangular courtyard with a long viaduct extending outward.
A black coach with head lamps attached to the front awaited without a horse hitched up. Looking through the coach window, Black swore he saw two familiar silhouettes. When he and Dumbledore climbed in, he stretched back in his seat with his hands behind his head.
"You seem surprised to see me, Minnie," Sirius teased.
"I am, Black," McGonagall replied. "Although it's no surprise your godson would be more trouble than you."
"Is Harry attending Hogwarts already?" Black gasped.
"You haven't changed in the least, have you Black?" McGonagall sighed.
"Speaking of which... might I ask exactly... what's a former Death Eater doing here?" Black requested.
He gestured to McGonagall's right, where a fuming Snape was seated, his unnaturally large nose pointed at Sirius.
"I happen to be Potions master," Snape growled.
"You, Snivellus, teaching?!" Black cried.
"I'd expect you of all people to know about teaching," Snape retorted.
"Now Sirius, Severus," Dumbledore chided "Need I remind you, we do have a task at hand."
"What has he got to do with it?" Black insisted.
"All in good time, my boy," Dumbledore pleaded. "But all search parties must be off quickly."
"But..." Sirius interjected.
"The Headmaster has no business playing favorites," Snape grumbled.
"He's got a bit nerve there, calling me that," Black muttered.
Black and Snape sunk back into their seats, still shooting glares at each other, a weary McGonagall cast a nervous glance at the still-twinkling Headmaster as the coach rolled off Hogwarts' grounds, in the direction of the Hog's Head.
Once they pulled to a stop, Dumbledore casually opened the door for the others, where a couple of flaming torches awaited inside. Sirius glanced at the yellowish air above him, as the sun had lowered.
Inside the inn, on the top floor, the rest of Dumbledore's party gathered around the same table, in the same seats as earlier in the day. The head of the table was left vacant for Dumbledore, as well as the seat over to his right.
"Sirius Black!" Hagrid cried from Dumbledore's left. "S'wonderful teh see yeh again! I still 'ave that flyin' motorcycle of yers."
"Hagrid, thank you so much for holding onto it," Sirius sighed. "I can't wait to ride that old bird again!"
"I suppose you prefer Muggle Artefacts to friends, do you, Padfoot?" Lupin joked, sitting in the next seat over.
"Moony!" Black laughed. "I knew you'd come to my rescue soon enough!"
"Aren't you forgetting somebody else?" asked a bubbly feminine voice sitting across the table.
"Pink hair..." Sirius pondered. "You remind me of a distant cousin, but the last I saw her, she was a just little girl of about seven or eight years old."
"Sirius!" she cried.
"Of course it would be little Nymphadora!" Sirius laughed, thrusting his arms forward.
"Hey!" she protested. "You know how I feel about that name!"
"Do I, though?" Black teased. "Do I?"
"Very funny," Tonks protested, sticking out her tongue.
Black and Lupin embraced each other, laughing madly, reaching out for Tonks, before someone madder started banging on the floor;
Moody was ratting a tall, thick walking stick with its top carved in the shape of a ram and foot in the shape of a hoof.
"We'll have plenty of time for the cozy catchup later!" he roared. "Dumbledore says we've got thirty-six hours left to get going!"
"Now Alastor, we only met hardly seven hours ago," Lupin teased.
"And I thought you weren't one for jokes, Remus," McGonagall murmured.
"And I brought him before the Wizengamot," Madam Bones added, at the other end of the table.
"According to my wife, you'd be lucky not to have sons doing it," Arthur Weasley interjected over at Bones' left.
"A reason she hasn't joined us?" Bones suggested.
"Arthur nodded his head, before they were interrupted by a throat being cleared at the far end of the table.
"If you don't mind, I would be very pleased if we got out of here, right now," Snape grumbled.
"Of course," Arthur concluded after a pause.
"Now then," Bones continued. "As I understand, Arthur has chosen to provide us with transportation this evening. After all, he's been able to enchant cars."
Arthur laid a silver dustbin lid on the table, slightly dented in the handle, with a few missing specks of paint.
"What is this, Arthur?" McGonagall requested.
"That's a muggle dust bin lid," Sirius replied. "I've seen loads of them before, when I'd gone riding on my motorcycle."
"Indeed, we've all gone into Muggle London at some point or another," Dumbledore added.
He pulled his world map from his pocket and unrolled it again on the table, pointing at Costa Rica with his wand.
"Is that where we're headed?" Sirius asked.
Dumbledore twinklingly nodded his head as he moved his wand towards the spot indicating San Jose.
"The lid will be our portkey," Dumbledore explained, still twinkling. "It will take us to San Jose, as Harry may have landed there. Then, we split into two parties, you may choose yours upon arrival, after which we review the second part of our plan."
"Very well," Sirius muttered, narrowing his eyes at his former Headmaster.
"Now," Dumbledore instructed, jovially. "Everyone grab ahold and brace yourselves."
"Hold on a sec'und, Professor!" Hagrid cried, bursting from his chair.
He removed a long, yellow bungie cord from his moleskin coat with a stainless steel pull handle welded to one end. He hooked the other end up to the dustbin handle as the rest of the group stared at him, blankly.
"What?" he shrugged. "Size o' me hands, yeh know."
"Thank you for sharing that with us, Hagrid," McGonagall murmured.
"Only one more matter," Dumbledore interjected. "Arabella? Are you ready?"
"Albus, be thankful for my services to you," Miss Figg replied at the other head of the table.
"I shall take that as a yes," Dumbledore concluded.
"Are we through here?" Snape growled.
"Right," Dumbledore realized. "If everyone is ready, here we go..."
He extended his hand as each member of the search party grabbed hold of the dustbin lid, Hagrid grabbing the cord tightly, with both hands.
One by one, they each felt as if a hook had grabbed them somewhere behind the navel. Fortunately, as they released their hands, they landed on their backs in a small, damp, but not dark alleyway.
In fact, it was much lighter given the time difference of a country over five thousand miles away. Not only that, but many began to squirm around under their robes, most likely from the heatwave of another climate.
Some members of that party, mostly those experienced in flying had no trouble picking themselves up, yet were still concerned with getting their shoes wet.
Others, mainly Snape, Hagrid, and Miss Figg, weren't so lucky as Dumbledore, odd as it seemed, maintained enough youthful energy to step in for them./
"We've arrived," Dumbledore exclaimed.
"Yes, Snape grumbled. "We have."
"Well then," Dumbledore suggested. "If someone will make some final precautions with that portkey, we shall move onto the second phase."
A green-looking Hagrid kicked the dustbin lid behind a gathering of metal dustbins in the back corner of the alley.
"I don' even know what's worse," He belched. "That or them Gringotts carts."
Dumbledore again pulled out the map, unrolling it against the red brick walls of the alley, holding out his wand.
"Epoximise," he commanded.
The parchment stiffened and its edges became drawn to the walls, where they moved no further.
"Now then," Dumbledore began. "If we are to search further west, we will require additional transport. Thankfully Minerva has secured us something."
McGonagall reached into her robes and removed a handful of broomsticks about the size of bracelet charms. In her other hand, she clutched a collection of compasses about the size of Muggle coins.
She laid them all on the ground, waving the others off in numerous directions.
"Finite incantatem," she enunciated.
Each of the broomsticks and compasses grew until they had all been secured to their respective sizes. McGonagall clipped a compass to each broom and passed them out to those who were able to keep their bearings.
"You realize not all of us have a knack for this, Headmaster," Snape pointed out.
"Worry not, for we will be traveling in pairs," Dumbledore explained. "So I advise you to choose your partners now."
"We'll go together!" Tonks piped up, grabbing Lupin by the hand.
"Will we?" He pondered.
Tonks eagerly plucked up one of the brooms and pulled Remus onto the back, while Dumbledore removed the map from the wall. He flicked his hand several times, eliciting several more copies of it, handing one each to whoever picked up a broom.
"Given the unspoken circumstances, I shall provide special assistance to Hagrid," Dumbledore announced.
"Then I'll be keeping an eye on Severus," McGonagall offered.
"Weasley, come with me!" Barked Moody.
"Would you care to join us, Sirius?" Bones offered, waiting in the back with Miss Figg. "If I recall, you were an expert flier in your Hogwarts days."
"Not a bad idea," Sirius agreed. "Joining the people who made my case."
He picked up a broom and mounted it, Miss Figg behind him, followed by Madam Bones. Just as the other pairs were to mount, before Dumbledore held up his hand.
"Wait," he instructed.
He and Hagrid kicked off from the ground and shot into the sky, disappearing into the broad noon daylight.
"He's gone mad, hasn't he?" Sirius whispered, leaning into Madam Bones' ear.
"How do you suppose that?" She inquired.
"It's hidden, but for how long?" Sirius replied, gesturing to the dustbins.
The rest of the party watched, their necks beginning to ache until they saw a trail of golden sparks emitting from the heavens.
"I reckon that means 'go'," Arthur suggested.
"Hang onto your hairnets." Sirius warned.
Sirius effortlessly kicked off the ground, Miss Figg stumbling backwards before being squished forward by Madam Bones.
The other pairs followed suit, shooting to Dumbledore's height like rocket balloons, bouncing a little, before hovering once they came to a stop.
"Excellent," Dumbledore exclaimed. "If all are present and accounted for, then let's move along."
He waved his hand forward before pressing in that direction, the others speeding along behind. After about forty-five minutes, they reached a shoreline, where Dumbledore signaled for the rest to stop. But still, even those with their eyes forward could see gray clouds rotating along up ahead.
"It looks like there's some sort of a storm coming in, Albus," Sirius mused.
"Worry not, my boy, about what even Quidditch players may withstand." Dumbledore assured him. "I can assure you young Harry wouldn't."
"Exactly my reckoning out in miles of ocean," Sirius retorted.
"We'll separate into groups here," Dumbledore proposed. "One shall start by scouring the Northwest. Lest either of us are unsuccessful, we'll circle back around the other way. I will lead one, Madam Bones shall take the other."
"That won't be necessary, Albus," Bones intervened. "If you don't mind, we're perfectly content going along with you."
"Very well then," Dumbledore resolved. "Minerva can take the others. If still, neither of us find any sign of Harry, we'll meet back here at sundown."
A weary-looking McGonagall and Snape took off to the Northeast, Moody and Arthur following, while the other party members zipped towards the Southeast, Sirius spotting a familiar-looking pink and brown blur catching up to him.
"You too, Moony?" Sirius noticed.
"You're not the only one, Padfoot," Lupin pointed out. "If I had my way, they would have let me take Harry."
"Did you ever have any doubts about it?" Sirius asked.
"Are you sure you should be asking him?" Miss Figg piped up.
"Arabella Figg," Sirius recalled. "I haven't exactly had time to ask how you came into all this."
"You fly, I'll do the talking," Miss Figg replied.
"Don't stop," Madam Bones ordered. "Or would you rather ask Dumbledore about that?"
"This should be interesting," Tonks snickered.
The other fliers turned their heads at Tonks, having forgotten she was there, until a low rumbling in the distance reminded them of exactly what they were flying into.
But in the middle of all that, something greater was about to make its presence known within just a few short hours.
