27. Padfoot Returns
It's Not Always Black And White
One of the best things about the aftermath of the second task was that everybody was very keen to hear details of what had happened down in the lake, which meant that Ron was getting to share Harry's limelight for once. Harry noticed that Ron's version of events changed subtly with every retelling. At first, he gave what seemed to be the truth; it tallied with Hermione's story, anyway - Dumbledore had put all the hostages into a bewitched sleep in Professor McGonagall's office, first assuring them that they would be quite safe, and would awake when they were back above the water. One week later, however, Ron was telling a thrilling tale of kidnap in which he struggled single-handedly against fifty heavily armed merpeople, before having to prise open the jaws of the Selma when it had tried to swallow him.
"But I had my wand hidden up my sleeve," he assured Padma Patil, who seemed to be a lot keener on Ron now that he was getting so much attention and was making a point of talking to him every time they passed in the corridors. "I could've taken that sea snake any time I wanted."
"What were you going to do, snore at it?" said Hermione waspishly. People had been teasing her so much about being the thing that Viktor Krum would most miss that she was in a rather tetchy mood.
Ron's ears went red, and thereafter, he reverted to the bewitched sleep version of events.
For the longest time, all that anyone could talk about was the second task; whether or not Harry's godmother was actually a mermaid in disguise, how she had managed to keep the Selma at bay, why the teachers hadn't been able to get rid of said beast yet, why the students in the 70's had decided to name it Gustafson...
"Maybe it will just go away like last time..." Harry had heard Emma say to Professor Moody, as the two Aurors stood on the shores of the lake, keeping an eye (magic or not) on the students who were watching the Selma and the giant squid fighting.
"Until then, all that we can do is wait," Moody replied reasonably. "Constant vigilance..."
Emma still seemed irritated. "If I'd been vigilant before then I would've seen how it got back in here..."
Moody said nothing; his magical eye was fixed on Emma and the normal one was watching the battle in the lake (it looked like the giant squid was winning - Fred and George Weasley had started taking bets).
"I don't want to leave when there's something like that in there," Emma stressed. "I can hear it talking, Alastor - like I told Karkaroff, it's a snake...he still seems to think that I made it attack Viktor..." Emma shook her head. "Brunilda's nephew, as if I would ever...Karkaroff didn't even listen to what Newt said, that the Selma attacked Krum because of his partial shark Transfiguration; it saw him as a threat. Him attacking it probably didn't help things. But, did I draw attention to his incomplete Transfiguration? Did I mention that he'd attacked the Selma back? Did I fail to suggest making an allowance for his injury? Nooo...meanwhile, Karkaroff gives my godson a four for the first task, and he accuses me of playing favourites and setting a snake on somebody...it's like my sixth year all over again...kid about to throw rock at Selma," she pointed out suddenly.
Moody nodded and, without taking his magical eye off of Emma, used his wand to destroy the rock in the kid's hand. "Five points from Ravenclaw!" He barked, and then continued talking to Emma like that hadn't just happened. "You and I both know that it'd be more likely to attack you if you tried to order it around. Snake charmer or not." He then added, with a slight grin.
Emma just sighed. "I know, that's what Newt said, but I think I'd have more luck negotiating with the Selma than with Karkaroff..." She remarked, as the giant squid and the Selma took their fight underwater.
As they entered March the weather became drier, but cruel winds skinned their hands and faces every time they went out onto the grounds. There were delays in the post because the owls kept being blown off course. The brown owl that Harry had sent to Sirius with the dates of the Hogsmeade weekend turned up at breakfast on Friday morning with half its feathers sticking up the wrong way; Harry had no sooner torn off Sirius's reply than it took flight, clearly afraid it was going to be sent outside again.
Sirius's letter was almost as short as the previous one.
Be at stile at end of road out of Hogsmeade (past Dervish and Banges) at two o'clock on Saturday afternoon. Bring as much food as you can.
"He hasn't come back to Hogsmeade?" said Ron incredulously.
"It looks like it, doesn't it?" said Hermione.
"I can't believe him," said Harry tensely, "if he's caught. . ."
"Made it so far, though, hasn't he?" said Ron. "And it's not like the place is swarming with dementors anymore."
Harry folded up the letter, thinking. If he was honest with himself, he really wanted to see Sirius again, especially with Emma away.
She had left on Ron's birthday (the first of March) the day after celebrating Teddy and Lillica's birthday. The twenty-eighth of February wasn't their actual birthday but, as they had explained, being born in a leap year meant that most of the time they got to pick the best day out of the twenty-eighth of February or the first of March, instead of hoping that their special day would fall on a weekend. It meant that they got to spend the day with their mother, before she left early the following morning to go back to London. The twins had only said that she'd returned home for awhile, which they could understand, but some people seemed to miss having her nearby already.
So Harry, though he was missing his godmother, therefore approached the final lesson of the afternoon - double Potions - feeling considerably more cheerful than he usually did when descending the steps to the dungeons.
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing in a huddle outside the classroom door with Pansy Parkinson's gang of Slytherin girls. All of them were looking at something Harry couldn't see and sniggering heartily. Pansy's pug-like face peered excitedly around Goyle's broad back as Harry, Ron, and Hermione approached.
"There they are, there they are!" She giggled, and the knot of Slytherins broke apart.
Harry saw that Pansy had a magazine in her hands - Witch Weekly. The moving picture on the front showed a witch who was smiling toothily and pointing at a large sponge cake with her wand. Harry did a double-take - was that Courtney McNamara? It looked like her...
"You might find something to interest you in there, Granger!" Pansy said loudly, and she threw the magazine at Hermione, who caught it, looking startled. At that moment, the dungeon door opened, and Snape beckoned them all inside.
Hermione, Harry, and Ron headed for a table at the back of the dungeon as usual. Once Snape had turned his back on them to write up the ingredients of todays potion on the blackboard, Hermione hastily rifled through the magazine under the desk. At last, in the center pages, Hermione found what they were looking for. Harry and Ron leaned in closer.
A color photograph of Harry headed a short piece entitled:
Harry Potter's Secret Heartache
A boy like no other, perhaps - yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss.
Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has "never felt this way about any other girl."
However, it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate boys' interest.
"She's really ugly," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it."
Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart on a worthier candidate.
Perhaps Miss. Granger would do better focusing on another famous wizard that she seems particularly attracted to, although she'd be far better off reading Newt Scamander's books.
"I told you!" Ron hissed at Hermione as she stared down at the article. "I told you not to annoy Rita Skeeter! She's made you out to be some sort of- of scarlet woman!"
Hermione stopped looking astonished and snorted with laughter. "Scarlet woman?" she repeated, shaking with suppressed giggles as she looked around at Ron.
"It's what my mum calls them," Ron muttered, his ears going red.
"If that's the best Rita can do, she's losing her touch," said Hermione, still giggling, as she threw Witch Weekly onto the empty chair beside her. "What a pile of old rubbish."
She looked over at the Slytherins, who were all watching her and Harry closely across the room to see if they had been upset by the article. Hermione gave them a sarcastic smile and a wave, and she, Harry, and Ron started unpacking the ingredients they would need for their Wit-Sharpening Potion.
"There's something funny, though," said Hermione ten minutes later, holding her pestle suspended over a bowl of scarab beetles. "How could Rita Skeeter have known . . . ?"
"Known what?" said Ron quickly. "You haven't been mixing up Love Potions, have you?"
"Don't be stupid," Hermione snapped, starting to pound up her beetles again. "No, it's just. . . how did she know Viktor asked me to visit him over the summer?"
Hermione blushed scarlet as she said this and determinedly avoided Ron's eyes.
"What?" said Ron, dropping his pestle with a loud clunk.
"He asked me right after he'd pulled me out of the lake,"
Hermione muttered. "After he'd got rid of his shark's head. Madam Pomfrey gave us both blankets and then he sort of pulled me away from the judges so they wouldn't hear, and he said, if I wasn't doing anything over the summer, would I like to -"
"And what did you say?" said Ron, who had picked up his pestle and was grinding it on the desk, a good six inches from his bowl, because he was looking at Hermione.
"And he did say he'd never felt the same way about anyone else," Hermione went on, going so red now that Harry could almost feel the heat coming from her, "but how could Rita Skeeter have heard him? She wasn't there ... or was she? Maybe she has got an Invisibility Cloak; maybe she sneaked onto the grounds to watch the second task. ..."
"And what did you say?" Ron repeated, pounding his pestle down so hard that it dented the desk.
"Well, I was too busy seeing whether you and Harry were okay to-"
"Fascinating though your social life undoubtedly is. Miss Granger," said an icy voice right behind them, and all three of them jumped, "I must ask you not to discuss it in my class. Ten points from Gryffindor."
Snape had glided over to their desk while they were talking. The whole class was now looking around at them; Malfoy took the opportunity to flash POTTER STINKS across the dungeon at Harry.
"Ah . . . reading magazines under the table as well?" Snape added, snatching up the copy of Witch Weekly. "A further ten points from Gryffindor ... oh but of course ..." Snapes black eyes glittered as they fell on Rita Skeeter's article. "Potter has to keep up with his press cuttings. . . ."
The dungeon rang with the Slytherins' laughter (except for Teddy; she was sitting beside her sister and both the Black twins looked mortified), and an unpleasant smile curled Snape's thin mouth. To Harry's fury, he began to read the article aloud.
"'Harry Potter's Secret Heartache. . . dear, dear. Potter, what's ailing you now? 'A boy like no other, perhaps. . .'"
Harry could feel his face burning. Snape was pausing at the end of every sentence to allow the Slytherins a hearty laugh. The article sounded ten times worse when read by Snape. Even Hermione was blushing scarlet now.
"'. . . Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart upon a worthier candidate.' How very touching," sneered Snape, rolling up the magazine to continued gales of laughter from all but one of the Slytherins. "Well, I think I had better separate the three of you, so you can keep your minds on your potions rather than on your tangled love lives. Weasley, you stay here. Miss Granger, over there, beside Miss Parkinson. Potter - that table in front of my desk. Move. Now."
Furious, Harry threw his ingredients and his bag into his cauldron and dragged it up to the front of the dungeon to the empty table. Snape followed, sat down at his desk and watched Harry unload his cauldron. Determined not to look at Snape, Harry resumed the mashing of his scarab beetles, imagining each one to have Snape's face.
"All this press attention seems to have inflated your already over-large head. Potter," said Snape quietly, once the rest of the class had settled down again.
Harry didn't answer. He knew Snape was trying to provoke him; he had done this before.
No doubt he was hoping for an excuse to take a round fifty points from Gryffindor before the end of the class.
"You might be laboring under the delusion that the entire wizarding world is impressed with you," Snape went on, so quietly that no one else could hear him (Harry continued to pound his scarab beetles, even though he had already reduced them to a very fine powder), "but I don't care how many times your picture appears in the papers. To me. Potter, you are nothing but a nasty little boy who considers rules to be beneath him."
Harry tipped the powdered beetles into his cauldron and started cutting up his ginger roots. His hands were shaking slightly out of anger, but he kept his eyes down, as though he couldn't hear what Snape was saying to him.
"So I give you fair warning, Potter," Snape continued in a sorter and more dangerous voice, "pint-sized celebrity or not - if I catch you breaking into my office one more time -"
"I haven't been anywhere near your office!" said Harry angrily, forgetting his feigned deafness.
"Don't lie to me," Snape hissed, his fathomless black eyes boring into Harry's. "Boomslang skin. Gillyweed. Both come from my private stores, and I know who stole them."
Harry stared back at Snape, determined not to blink or to look guilty. In truth, he hadn't stolen either of these things from Snape. Hermione had taken the boomslang skin back in their second year - they had needed it for the Polyjuice Potion - and while Snape had suspected Harry at the time, he had never been able to prove it. Dobby, of course, had stolen the gillyweed.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry lied coldly.
"You were out of bed on the night my office was broken into!" Snape hissed. "I know it. Potter! Now, Mad-Eye Moody might have joined your fan club, but I will not tolerate your behavior! One more nighttime stroll into my office, Potter, and you will pay!"
"Right," said Harry coolly, turning back to his ginger roots. "I'll bear that in mind if I ever get the urge to go in there."
Snape's eyes flashed. He plunged a hand into the inside of his black robes. For one wild moment. Harry thought Snape was about to pull out his wand and curse him - then he saw that Snape had drawn out a small crystal bottle of a completely clear potion. Harry stared at it.
"Do you know what this is, Potter?" Snape said, his eyes glittering dangerously again.
"No," said Harry, with complete honesty this time.
"It is Veritaserum - a Truth Potion so powerful that three drops would have you spilling your innermost secrets for this entire class to hear," said Snape viciously. "Now, the use of this potion is controlled by very strict Ministry guidelines. But unless you watch your step, you might just find that my hand slips" - he shook the crystal bottle slightly - "right over your evening pumpkin juice. And then. Potter . . . then we'll find out whether you've been in my office or not."
Harry said nothing. He turned back to his ginger roots once more, picked up his knife, and started slicing them again. He didn't like the sound of that Truth Potion at all, nor would he put it past Snape to slip him some. He repressed a shudder at the thought of what might come spilling out of his mouth if Snape did it... quite apart from landing a whole lot of people in trouble - Hermione and Dobby for a start - there were all the other things he was concealing . . . like the fact that he was in contact with Sirius . . . and - his insides squirmed at the thought - how he felt about Cho. ... He tipped his ginger roots into the cauldron too, and wondered whether he ought to take a leaf out of Moody s book and start drinking only from a private hip flask.
There was a knock on the dungeon door.
"Enter," said Snape in his usual voice.
The class looked around as the door opened. Professor Karkaroff came in. Everyone watched him as he walked up toward Snape's desk. He was twisting his finger around his goatee and looking agitated.
"We need to talk," said Karkaroff abruptly when he had reached Snape. He seemed so determined that nobody should hear what he was saying that he was barely opening his lips; it was as though he were a rather poor ventriloquist. Harry kept his eyes on his ginger roots, listening hard.
"I'll talk to you after my lesson, Karkaroff," Snape muttered, but Karkaroff interrupted him.
"I want to talk now, while you can't slip off, Severus. You've been avoiding me."
"After the lesson," Snape snapped.
Under the pretext of holding up a measuring cup to see if he'd poured out enough armadillo bile, Harry sneaked a sidelong glance at the pair of them. Karkaroff looked extremely worried, and Snape looked angry.
Karkaroff hovered behind Snape's desk for the rest of the double period. He seemed intent on preventing Snape from slipping away at the end of class. Keen to hear what Karkaroff wanted to say, Harry deliberately knocked over his bottle of armadillo bile with two minutes to go to the bell, which gave him an excuse to duck down behind his cauldron and mop up while the rest of the class moved noisily toward the door.
Harry glanced once to his left, and saw Teddy at his side. Clearly, eavesdropping was a habit of hers too, and he saw that her gaze was intent as they both listened in.
"What's so urgent?" They heard Snape hiss at Karkaroff.
"This," said Karkaroff, and Harry and Teddy, peering around the edge of Harry's cauldron, saw Karkaroff pull up the left-hand sleeve of his robe and show Snape something on his inner forearm.
"Well?" said Karkaroff, still making every effort not to move his lips. "Do you see? It's never been this clear, never since - "
"Put it away!" snarled Snape, his black eyes sweeping the classroom.
"But you must have noticed -" Karkaroff began in an agitated voice.
"We can talk later, Karkaroff!" spat Snape. "Potter! What are you doing?"
"Clearing up my armadillo bile, Professor," said Harry innocently, straightening up and showing Snape the sodden rag he was holding.
"I'm helping." Teddy added quietly, also standing up.
Karkaroff stared at Teddy for a full five seconds, before he turned on his heel and strode out of the dungeon. He looked both worried and angry. Not wanting to remain alone with an exceptionally angry Snape, Harry threw his books and ingredients back into his bag and he and Teddy left at top speed to tell Ron, Hermione, and Lillica what they had just witnessed.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the castle at noon the next day to find a weak silver sun shining down upon the grounds. The weather was milder than it had been all year, and by the time they arrived in Hogsmeade, all three of them had taken off their cloaks and thrown them over their shoulders. The food Sirius had told them to bring was in Harry's bag; they had sneaked a dozen chicken legs, a loaf of bread, and a flask of pumpkin juice from the lunch table.
They went into Gladrags Wizardwear to buy a present for Dobby, where they had fun selecting the most lurid socks they could find, including a pair patterned with flashing gold and silver stars, and another that screamed loudly when they became too smelly.
Then, at half past one, they made their way up the High Street, past Dervish and Banges, and out toward the edge of the village.
Harry had never been in this direction before. The winding lane was leading them out into the wild countryside around Hogsmeade. The cottages were fewer here, and their gardens larger; they were walking toward the foot of the mountain in whose shadow Hogsmeade lay. Then they turned a corner and saw a stile at the end of the lane. Waiting for them, its front paws on the topmost bar, was a very large, shaggy black dog, which was carrying some newspapers in its mouth and looking very familiar. . . .
"Hello, Sirius," said Harry when they had reached him.
The black dog sniffed Harry's bag eagerly, wagged its tail once, then turned and began to trot away from them across the scrubby patch of ground that rose to meet the rocky foot of the mountain. Harry, Ron, and Hermione climbed over the stile and followed.
Sirius led them to the very foot of the mountain, where the ground was covered with boulders and rocks. It was easy for him, with his four paws, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione were soon out of breath. They followed Sirius higher, up onto the mountain itself. For nearly half an hour they climbed a steep, winding, and stony path, following Sirius's wagging tail, sweating in the sun, the shoulder straps of Harry's bag cutting into his shoulders.
Then, at last, Sirius slipped out of sight, and when they reached the place where he had vanished, they saw a narrow fissure in the rock. They squeezed into it and found themselves in a cool, dimly lit cave. Tethered at the end of it, one end of his rope around a large rock, was Buckbeak the hippogriff. Half gray horse, half giant eagle, Buckbeak's fierce orange eye flashed at the sight of them. All three of them bowed low to him, and after regarding them imperiously for a moment, Buckbeak bent his scaly front knees and allowed Hermione to rush forward and stroke his feathery neck. Harry, however, was looking at the black dog, which had just turned into his godfather.
Sirius was wearing ragged gray robes; the same ones he had been wearing when he had left Azkaban. His black hair was longer than it had been when he had appeared in the fire, and it was untidy and matted once more. He looked very thin.
"Chicken!" he said hoarsely after removing the old Daily Prophets from his mouth and throwing them down onto the cave floor.
Harry pulled open his bag and handed over the bundle of chicken legs and bread.
"Thanks," said Sirius, opening it, grabbing a drumstick, sitting down on the cave floor, and tearing off a large chunk with his teeth. "I've been living off rats mostly. Can't steal too much food from Hogsmeade; I'd draw attention to myself."
He grinned up at Harry, but Harry returned the grin only reluctantly.
"Emma seems to manage...when she's in her Animagus form..." Harry said, remembering when he thought that he'd seen a white dog in Hogsmeade.
"Let's be honest, Harry, your godmother's Animagus form looks more like a small husky than a wolf...don't tell her I said that..."
Harry sighed. "What're you doing here, Sirius?" He said.
"Fulfilling my duty as godfather," said Sirius, gnawing on the chicken bone in a very doglike way. "Don't worry about it, I'm still cute enough to pretend to be a lovable stray."
He was still grinning, but seeing the anxiety in Harry's face, said more seriously, "I want to be on the spot. Your last letter . . . well, let's just say things are getting fishier. I've been stealing the paper every time someone throws one out, and by the looks of things, I'm not the only one who's getting worried."
He nodded at the yellowing Daily Prophets on the cave floor, and Ron picked them up and unfolded them. Harry, however, continued to stare at Sirius.
"What if they catch you? What if you're seen?"
"You three, Emma and her girls, and Dumbledore are the only ones around here who know I'm an Animagus," said Sirius, shrugging, and continuing to devour the chicken leg.
Ron nudged Harry and passed him the Daily Prophets. There were two: The first bore the headline Mystery Illness of Bartemius Crouch, the second, Ministry Witch Still Missing-Minister of Magic Now Personally Involved.
Harry scanned the story about Crouch. Phrases jumped out at him: hasn't been seen in public since November. . . house appears deserted. . . St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries decline comment. . . Ministry refuses to confirm rumors of critical illness. . . .
"They're making it sound like he's dying," said Harry slowly. "But he can't be that ill if he managed to get up here. . . ."
"My brother's Crouch's personal assistant," Ron informed Sirius. "He says Crouch is suffering from overwork."
"Mind you, he did look ill, last time I saw him up close," said Harry slowly, still reading the story. "The night my name came out of the goblet. ..."
"Getting his comeuppance for sacking Winky, isn't he?" said Hermione, an edge to her voice. She was stroking Buckbeak, who was crunching up Sirius's chicken bones. "I bet he wishes he hadn't done it now - bet he feels the difference now she's not there to look after him."
"Hermione's obsessed with house-elfs," Ron muttered to Sirius, casting Hermione a dark look. Sirius, however, looked interested.
"Crouch sacked his house-elf?"
"Yeah, at the Quidditch World Cup," said Harry, and he launched into the story of the Dark Mark's appearance, and Winky being found with Harry's wand clutched in her hand, and Mr. Crouch's fury. He hesitated to tell Sirius about what had happened to Emma but, in the end, he explained how she had been involved. When Harry had finished, Sirius was on his feet again and had started pacing up and down the cave.
"Let me get this straight," he said after a while, brandishing a fresh chicken leg. "You first saw the elf in the Top Box. She was saving Crouch a seat, right?"
"Right," said Harry, Ron, and Hermione together.
"But Crouch didn't turn up for the match?"
"No," said Harry. "I think he said he'd been too busy."
Sirius paced all around the cave in silence. Then he said, "Harry, did you check your pockets for your wand after you'd left the Top Box?"
"Erm . . ." Harry thought hard. "No," he said finally. "I didn't need to use it before we got in the forest. And then I put my hand in my pocket, and all that was in there were my Omnioculars." He stared at Sirius. "Are you saying whoever conjured the Mark stole my wand in the Top Box?"
"It's possible," said Sirius.
"Emma did seem to feel something touch the back of her head," Harry said slowly, remembering. "She said that it was Septimus, but...the only one sitting behind her..."
"Winky didn't steal that wand!" Hermione insisted. "Just because you and Emma were sitting right in front of her!" She added crossly.
"The elf wasn't the only one in that box," said Sirius, his brow furrowed as he continued to pace. "Who else was sitting behind you?"
"Loads of people," said Harry. "Some Bulgarian ministers .. . Cornelius Fudge ... the Malfoys ..."
"The Malfoys!" said Ron suddenly, so loudly that his voice echoed all around the cave, and Buckbeak tossed his head nervously. "I bet it was Lucius Malfoy!"
"Anyone else?" said Sirius.
"No one," said Harry.
"Yes, there was, there was Ludo Bagman," Hermione reminded him.
"Oh yeah . . ."
"I don't know anything about Bagman except that he used to be Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps," said Sirius, still pacing. "What's he like?"
"He's okay," said Harry. "Emma seems to like him, although she also keeps trying to avoid him at times. And, he keeps offering to help me with the Triwizard Tournament."
"Does he, now?" said Sirius, frowning more deeply. "I wonder why he'd do that?"
"Says he's taken a liking to me," said Harry.
"Hmm," said Sirius, looking thoughtful.
"We saw him in the forest just before the Dark Mark appeared," Hermione told Sirius."Remember?" she said to Harry and Ron.
"Yeah, but he didn't stay in the forest, did he?" said Ron. "The moment we told him about the riot, he went off to the campsite."
"How d'you know?" Hermione shot back. "How d'you know where he Disapparated to?"
"Come off it," said Ron incredulously. "Are you saying you reckon Ludo Bagman conjured the Dark Mark?"
"It's more likely he did it than Winky," said Hermione stubbornly.
"Told you," said Ron, looking meaningfully at Sirius, "told you she's obsessed with house -"
But Sirius held up a hand to silence Ron.
"When the Dark Mark had been conjured, and the elf had been discovered holding Harry's wand, what did Crouch do?"
"Went to look in the bushes," said Harry, "but there wasn't anyone else there. Emma said that she didn't see anyone...he believed her, when they accused her as well, but..."
"Mmhmm. Of course," Sirius muttered, pacing up and down, "of course, he'd want to pin it on anyone but his own elf...anyone but Emma, that is...and then he sacked his house elf?"
"Yes," said Hermione in a heated voice, "he sacked her, just because she hadn't stayed in her tent and let herself get trampled -"
"Hermione, will you give it a rest with the elf!" said Ron.
Sirius shook his head and said, "She's got the measure of Crouch better than you have, Ron. If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals."
He ran a hand over his unshaven face, evidently thinking hard.
"All these absences of Barty Crouch's ... he goes to the trouble of making sure his house-elf saves him a seat at the Quidditch World Cup, but doesn't bother to turn up and watch. He wouldn't let Emma look for Bertha Jorkins because she was needed around there, but then he let her go off to Bali for a few weeks. He works very hard to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament, and then stops coming to that too. . . . It's not like Crouch. If he's ever taken a day off work because of illness before this, I'll eat Buckbeak."
Buckbeak gave him an intense look just then, and tossed his head.
"D'you know Crouch, then?" said Harry. "I mean, Emma does, but...do you?"
Sirius's face darkened. He suddenly looked as menacing as he had the night when Harry first met him, the night when Harry still believed Sirius to be a murderer.
"Oh I know Crouch all right," he said quietly. "He was the one who gave the order for me to be sent to Azkaban - without a trial."
"What?" said Ron and Hermione together.
"You're kidding!" said Harry.
"No, I'm not," said Sirius, taking another great bite of chicken.
"And...Emma let him do that?" Harry said.
"She didn't have a choice."
"But...he trained Emma..." Hermione looked horrified. "Kind, helpful, supportive Emma...Winky absolutely adores her...we absolutely adore her!" She said suddenly. "H-how does someone like that end up working for someone like him?! They're not even in the same department, are they...?"
Sirius looked up. "Crouch used to be Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, didn't you know?"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione shook their heads.
"He was tipped for the next Minister of Magic," said Sirius. "Before that, however...I remember the day that he approached Emma about becoming an Auror. She said no, at first - we hadn't even graduated yet, we had the world's worst Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher that year, Ems was school champion and her biggest concern should've been why they couldn't get her Common Welsh Green through customs but the Horntail got through alright," Harry, Ron, and Hermione just stared at Sirius as he continued: "But...well, things changed. Times were changing, and us along with them. Now, he's a great wizard, Barty Crouch. As powerfully magical as your godmother - but, unlike her, also power-hungry. Oh never a Voldemort supporter," he said, reading the look on Harry's face. "No, Barty Crouch was always very outspoken against the Dark Side. But then a lot of people who were against the Dark Side . . . well, you wouldn't understand . . . you're too young. ..."
"That's what my dad said at the World Cup," said Ron, with a trace of irritation in his voice. "Try us, why don't you?"
A grin flashed across Sirius's thin face.
"All right, I'll try you. . . ." He walked once up the cave, back again, and then said, "Imagine that Voldemort's powerful now. You don't know who his supporters are, you don't know who's working for him and who isn't; you know he can control people so that they do terrible things without being able to stop themselves. You're scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing . . . sometimes it's complete strangers, and sometimes it's the person you shared a dorm with at school. The Ministry of Magic's in disarray, they don't know what to do, they're trying to keep everything hidden from the Muggles, but meanwhile, Muggles are dying too. They can barely keep it contained to own continent. Terror everywhere . . . panic . . . confusion . . . that's how it used to be.
And, there's a girl who shows up at Hogwarts with no family, no past - she says that she's from Australia, and that's about it - and people either have no idea who she is, or know a lot more than they're letting on. Unassuming little thing...one Hell of a temper, mind..."
Harry suddenly pictured his godmother arguing with Karkaroff, and knew at once who Sirius was referring to.
"But, the main thing is, she's got talents - her magic seems to come from The Old Magic, and it's strong. I can tell you firsthand what Emma Pax is capable of, it only gets stronger if she's protecting someone. Voldemort sends his Death Eaters after her, with the strict order that he wants her alive." Hermione and Ron exchanged a glance. "Which, as you know, does not happen. And, Dumbledore has let this girl study at Hogwarts even before all of these attacks start happening. Almost as if he knew that she would need to know how to defend herself. She's talented, but, she still needed guidance. Guidance is important for anybody at any time, but absolutely imperative for somebody on Voldemort's most-wanted list during a time of open-warfare.
Well, times like that bring out the best in some people - like her - and the worst in others...like Crouch.
Crouch's principles might've been good in the beginning - I wouldn't know. He rose quickly through the Ministry, and he started ordering very harsh measures against Voldemort's supporters. The Aurors were given new powers - powers to kill rather than capture, for instance. And I wasn't the only one who was handed straight to the dementors without trial. Crouch fought violence with violence, and authorized the use of the Unforgivable Curses against suspects. I would say he became as ruthless and cruel as many on the Dark Side. He had his supporters, mind you - plenty of people thought he was going about things the right way, and there were a lot of witches and wizards clamoring for him to take over as Minister of Magic. When Voldemort disappeared, it looked like only a matter of time until Crouch got the top job. But then something rather unfortunate happened. ..." Sirius smiled grimly. "Crouch's own son was caught with a group of Death Eaters who'd managed to talk their way out of Azkaban. Apparently they were trying to find Voldemort and return him to power."
"Crouch's son was caught?" gasped Hermione.
"Yep," said Sirius, throwing his chicken bone to Buckbeak, flinging himself back down on the ground beside the loaf of bread, and tearing it in half. "Nasty little shock for old Barty, I'd imagine. I remember Ems saying to me that he should have spent a bit more time at home with his family, shouldn't he? Ought to have left the office early once in a while . . . gotten to know his own son...she said so even before Crouch's son was captured..."
He began to wolf down large pieces of bread.
"Was his son a Death Eater?" said Harry.
"No idea," said Sirius, still stuffing down bread. "I was in Azkaban myself when he was brought in. This is mostly stuff I've found out since I got out. I haven't spoken to Emma about it yet - it's a subject someone would need to approach very carefully with her, if at all." He added meaningfully. "The boy was definitely caught in the company of people I know for a fact are Death Eaters - but he might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, just like the house-elf. One of Barty's biggest mistakes was making Emma the head of that group of Aurors who they sent on that one particular mission - because, it was her who had to deal with finding Crouch's son on that day."
Hermione gasped."Did Crouch try and get his son off?" She whispered, at the same time Harry asked: "What did Emma do?"
Sirius let out a laugh that was much more like a bark.
"Crouch let his son off? I thought you had the measure of him, Hermione! Anything that threatened to tarnish his reputation had to go; he had dedicated his whole life to becoming Minister of Magic. You saw him dismiss a devoted house-elf because she associated him with the Dark Mark again - doesn't that tell you what he's like? Crouch's fatherly affection stretched just far enough to give his son a trial, and by all accounts, it wasn't much more than an excuse for Crouch to show how much he hated the boy . . . then he sent him straight to Azkaban."
"He gave his own son to the dementors?" asked Harry quietly.
"That's right," said Sirius, and he didn't look remotely amused now. "I saw the dementors bringing him in, watched them through the bars in my cell door. He was only a year younger than Emma and me, but he looked so much younger right then. They took him into a cell near mine. He was screaming for his mother by nightfall. He went quiet after a few days, though . . .they all went quiet in the end. . . except when they shrieked in their sleep. ...the thing is, though, he was screaming for someone else, as well..." He looked up at them. "Emma."
"Okay, okay, go back a bit," Harry said, mainly because Ron and Hermione looked too shocked to even move. "Emma was trained by both Moody and Crouch, right?" Sirius nodded. "Emma was trained by Crouch." Harry repeated.
"Are we even talking about the same Emma anymore?" Ron wanted to know.
Sirius smiled slightly, although it may have been more of a grimace. "I can understand why you'd be so confused," he rubbed his chin again, and that's when Harry noticed the ring gleaming on his right hand. "But, trust me when I say this - and, I hate having to say it, mind you - Emma benefited greatly from the training that she got from Barty Crouch. I know it's hard to believe; she refused to kill, although I fully believe that she would have on the day she found Crouch's son with those other three," he looked around at them. "No, not Crouch's son," he shook his head. "I wasn't there but I didn't have to be to know that she would have strongly opposed having him sent to Azkaban. Crouch usually considers that kind of behaviour to be a weakness, but, he was always different with her. She was definitely effective enough as an Auror without resorting to the Unforgivable Curses. She is strong. You really have no idea. But, there are some things that she can't do. Take what happened with me, for example. Emma would've done everything she could've for me, she told me that herself, and I knew it all along. Which would have been fine...had it just been herself at risk, but there was no way she could've done anything for me without drawing attention to herself. Knowing that there were still Death Eaters out there, I couldn't let her risk her freedom, and the lives of her family, just to get me out of Azkaban. Barty may have been different with her, but there was no proof of the rat's betrayal," he added, his voice darkening ever so slightly at the mention of their former friend. "And Emma knew that, even without their old master, the Death Eaters were still going to be targeting her. I won't tell you what I heard when I was in Azkaban. She wasn't worried for herself - it's always been about her family, and those that she cares about. She is as devoted to her family as Barty Crouch isn't. Just look at what he did to his own son...Emma had befriended the boy, she would have defended him as much as she could despite whatever evidence there was...and it still wasn't enough to keep him out of Azkaban..."
For a moment, the deadened look in Sirius's eyes became more pronounced than ever, as though shutters had closed behind them.
"So he's still in Azkaban?" Harry said.
"No," said Sirius dully. "No, he's not in there anymore. He died about a year after they brought him in."
"He died?" Harry was horrified. Did Emma know?
"He wasn't the only one," said Sirius bitterly. "Most go mad in there, and plenty stop eating in the end. They lose the will to live. You could always tell when a death was coming, because the dementors could sense it, they got excited. That boy looked pretty sickly when he arrived. Crouch being an important Ministry member, he and his wife were allowed a deathbed visit. Emma was...she was the Auror that accompanied them." Harry's heart skipped a beat. "That was the last time I saw Barty Crouch, half carrying his wife past my cell, with Emma holding onto one of her hands. Ems could only look in at me as she walked by, I've only ever seen her eyes like that a few times before; she hatedbeing in that place, she never would've set foot in there if she could have helped it, but...she's always been fond of the Crouch family. Became good friends with Barty's wife, who died herself, apparently, shortly afterward. Grief. Wasted away just like the boy. Crouch never came for his son's body. The dementors buried him outside the fortress; I watched them do it."
Sirius threw aside the bread he had just lifted to his mouth and instead picked up the flask of pumpkin juice and drained it.
"So old Crouch lost it all, just when he thought he had it made," he continued, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "One moment, a hero, who'd trained the witch half of them said couldn't be trained," he laughed shortly. "Poised to become Minister of Magic...next, his son dead, his wife dead, the family name dishonored, and, so I've heard since I escaped, a big drop in popularity. Once the boy had died, people started feeling a bit more sympathetic toward the son and started asking how a nice young lad from a good family had gone so badly astray. The conclusion was that his father never cared much for him. So Cornelius Fudge got the top job, and Crouch was shunted sideways into the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Emma was forced to go on leave, as I've heard, and only somebody with her heart could have been able to forgive Crouch, I reckon."
There was a long silence. Harry was thinking of the way Crouch's eyes had bulged as he'd looked down at his disobedient house-elf back in the wood at the Quidditch World Cup.
This, then, must have been why Crouch had overreacted to Winky being found beneath the Dark Mark. It had brought back memories of his son, and the old scandal, and his fall from grace at the Ministry.
Seeing Emma there, too, had reminded Crouch of how it had affected her as well.
"Moody says Crouch is obsessed with catching Dark wizards," Harry told Sirius.
"Yeah, I've heard it's become a bit of a mania with him," said Sirius, nodding. "If you ask me, he still thinks he can bring back the old popularity by catching one more Death Eater."
"And he sneaked up here to search Snape's office!" said Ron triumphantly, looking at Hermione.
"Yes, and that doesn't make sense at all," said Sirius.
"Yeah, it does!" said Ron excitedly, but Sirius shook his head.
"Listen, if Crouch wants to investigate Snape, why hasn't he been coming to judge the tournament? It would be an ideal excuse to make regular visits to Hogwarts and keep an eye on him."
"So you think Snape could be up to something, then?" asked Harry, but Hermione broke in.
"Look, I don't care what you say, Dumbledore trusts Snape -"
"Oh give it a rest, Hermione," said Ron impatiently. "I know Dumbledore's brilliant and everything, but that doesn't mean a really clever Dark wizard couldn't fool him -"
"Why did Snape save Harry's life in the first year, then? Why didn't he just let him die?"
"I dunno - maybe he thought Dumbledore would kick him out-"
"What d'you think, Sirius?" Harry said loudly, and Ron and Hermione stopped bickering to listen.
"I think they've both got a point," said Sirius, looking thoughtfully at Ron and Hermione. "Ever since I found out Snape was teaching here, I've wondered why Dumbledore hired him. Snape's always been fascinated by the Dark Arts, he was famous for it at school. Slimy, oily, greasy-haired kid, he was," Sirius added, and Harry and Ron grinned at each other. "Snape knew more curses when he arrived at school than half the kids in seventh year - that was how he first met your godmother; he nearly killed her but he managed to talk his way out of expulsion, the little slimeball - and he was part of a gang of Slytherins who nearly all turned out to be Death Eaters."
Sirius held up his fingers and began ticking off names.
"Rosier and Wilkes - they were both killed by Aurors the year before Voldemort fell. The Lestranges - they're a married couple - they're in Azkaban. Avery - from what I've heard he wormed his way out of trouble by saying he'd been acting under the Imperius Curse - he's still at large. I'd be inclined not to believe his excuse. To tell you the truth, there is only one person that I can ever safely say was actuallyunder the Inperius Curse in that regard, and that was Professor Ackerly..."
"WHAT?!" Harry, Ron, and Hermione all yelled.
Sirius looked at them quickly.
"He was up at the school," Hermione told him. "He's the Beauxbatons champion's Uncle and Emma's friend...Carmichael Ackerly...? Long blonde hair, blue eyes...?"
Sirius nodded. "Yeah, that's him. He's one person that you don't have to worry about - now. When he was under the Imperius Curse, he did a lot of things that nearly got us all killed. He duelled your godmother right after another student was killed, and that's when she found out that Voldemort was controlling him."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were stunned.
"He...he killed a student?" Hermione asked quietly.
"Not him," Sirius shook his head. "He ordered the Basalisk to do it, and that was all because Voldemort was controlling him. That's what the Imperius Curse does, it gives somebody total controlover somebody else." His eyes were hollow, as if he were remembering just how awful that event had been. "There was a huge coverup regarding the nature of the attacks, as I'm sure you're all aware; even now, not many people know exactly what happened. We were all involved," he added, glancing at Harry. "Me, your parents, Moony, the rat...but...Emma was the one to duel Ackerly and get him to fight off the Imperius Curse...she was able to keep him out of Azkaban. She saved his freedom and his life."
"Septimus said that Ackerly taught Emma a spell that he created...Flamma..." Harry said.
Sirius nodded. "During their duel. It was her first real duel, and I don't know if Voldemort was testing her - through Ackerly - or what. I'll never fully understand how she managed to win...her emotions were already heightened, she'd just watched one of our dorm mates die from the wounds that he got from the Basalisk, Lily had been taken as bait so we had to go into the Chamber Of Secrets to rescue her and Emma had to talk down a giant snake that none of us could look at." He sighed.
"Taking on snakes must be something else that she's good at. She used that spell when she was in the lake, keeping that Selma at bay." Harry remembered, trying not to think about how his own mother Lily had nearly been killed by the Basalisk. The memories of the great snake from two years ago were still fresh in his mind.
"How did that thing get back in?" Sirius muttered. "It doesn't surprise me that she did that, though - she did it back in 1978, when she was Hogwarts Champion." He glanced up at Harry. "Tell me, did you see that necklace?" Harry nodded. Sirius's gaze became warmer, as he said: "It was made for her by Moony and your Mum - I don't know how they did it, but they did. I'm glad that you got to see it." He added, and Harry agreed with him.
"Septimus also said that, during the task, Emma saved the guy that she ended up marrying, and then did it for real a year later..." Harry said slowly, and noticed how Sirius flinched. "Sorry..."
"It's okay," Sirius held up his hand - the hand with the ring on it. "For whatever reason, Emma seemed to make friends with some of those Slytherins..."
"But, Snape was never one of them?" Ron guessed.
"He tried to kill her, so we can assume not."
"She slapped him last year, too." Harry said, somewhat brightly.
Sirius actually did laugh, then. "God, I love that woman..." They heard him mutter, and then he sobered. "Plenty of friends, some of them her friends' enemies...ratio of one Slytherin to every five Gryffindors, she used to say. Some of them ended up dying, and some ended up going over in the end. But as far as I know, Snape was never even accused of being a Death Eater - not that that means much. Plenty of them were never caught, even though we knew that half of them had gone over. And Snape's certainly clever and cunning enough to keep himself out of trouble now, if he could do it back then."
"Snape knows Karkaroff pretty well, but he wants to keep that quiet," said Ron.
"Yeah, you should've seen Snape's face when Karkaroff turned up in Potions yesterday!" said Harry quickly. "Karkaroff wanted to talk to Snape, he says Snape's been avoiding him. Karkaroff looked really worried. He showed Snape something on his arm, but I couldn't see what it was."
"He showed Snape something on his arm?" said Sirius, looking frankly bewildered. He ran his fingers distractedly through his filthy hair, then shrugged again. "Well, I've no idea what that's about. . . but if Karkaroff's genuinely worried, and he's going to Snape for answers ..."
Sirius stared at the cave wall, then made a grimace of frustration.
"There's still the fact that Dumbledore trusts Snape, and I know Dumbledore trusts where a lot of other people wouldn't - take your godmother, for example...she was known for getting into fights at Hogwarts when she was standing up for people, she'd mainly get detentions for punching a Slytherin or two in the ace...that was before she started befriending some of them, but she still has one Hell of a temper." Harry and Ron exchanged another grin. "Dumbledore was right about Emma, of course, no matter what anybody says. I just can't see him letting Snape teach at Hogwarts if he'd ever worked for Voldemort."
"Why are Moody and Crouch so keen to get into Snape's office then?" said Ron stubbornly.
"Well," said Sirius slowly, "I wouldn't put it past Mad-Eye to have searched every single teacher's office when he got to Hogwarts. He takes his Defense Against the Dark Arts seriously, Moody. I'm not sure he trusts anyone at all - not even Emma, although she's probably the closest one - and after the things he's seen, it's not surprising. I'll say this for Moody, though, he never killed if he could help it. Always brought people in alive where possible. He was tough, but he never descended to the level of the Death Eaters. Your godmother definitely took after his training in that regard. Crouch, though . . . he's a different matter ... is he really ill? If he is, why did he make the effort to drag himself up to Snape's office?
And if he's not. . . what's he up to? What was he doing at the World Cup that was so important he didn't turn up in the Top Box? What's he been doing while he should have been judging the tournament?"
Sirius lapsed into silence, still staring at the cave wall. Buckbeak was ferreting around on the rocky floor, looking for bones he might have overlooked.
"How is your godmother, anyway, Harry?" Sirius asked presently.
"Emma's been away recently," Harry said. "Lillica and Teddy say that she wanted to spend some time at home..."
Sirius cringed slightly. "That's...okay, yeah, sure...still, it means that she wouldn't have heard from Crouch, either..."
"Uncle Barty, as Lillica and Teddy call him..." Ron muttered.
Sirius looked up at him.
"You say your brother's Crouch's personal assistant? Any chance you could ask him if he's seen Crouch lately?"
"I can try," said Ron doubtfully. "Better not make it sound like I reckon Crouch is up to anything dodgy, though. Percy loves Crouch - like, way more than Emma does."
"And you might try and find out whether they've got any leads on Bertha Jorkins while you're at it," said Sirius, gesturing to the second copy of the Daily Prophet.
"Bagman told me they hadn't," said Harry.
"Yes, he's quoted in the article in there," said Sirius, nodding at the paper. "Blustering on about how bad Bertha's memory is. Well, maybe she's changed since I knew her, but the Bertha I knew wasn't forgetful at all - quite the reverse. She was a bit dim, but she had an excellent memory for gossip. It used to get her into a lot of trouble; she never knew when to keep her mouth shut. I can see her being a bit of a liability at the Ministry of Magic . . . maybe that's why Bagman didn't bother to look for her for so long. ..."
Sirius heaved an enormous sigh and rubbed his shadowed eyes.
"What's the time?"
Harry checked his watch, then remembered it hadn't been working since it had spent over an hour in the lake.
"It's half past three," said Hermione.
"You'd better get back to school," Sirius said, getting to his feet. "Now listen . . ."
He looked particularly hard at Harry. "I don't want you lot sneaking out of school to see me, all right? Just send notes to me here. I still want to hear about anything odd.
But you're not to go leaving Hogwarts without permission; it would be an ideal opportunity for someone to attack you."
"No one's tried to attack me so far, except a dragon and a Selma named Gustafson," Harry said, but Sirius scowled at him.
"I don't care . . . I'll breathe freely again when this tournament's over, and that's not until June. And don't forget, if you're talking about me among yourselves, call me Snuffles, okay?"
He handed Harry the empty napkin and flask and went to pat Buckbeak good-bye. "I'll walk to the edge of the village with you," said Sirius, "see if I can scrounge another paper."
He transformed into the great black dog before they left the cave, and they walked back down the mountainside with him, across the boulder-strewn ground, and back to the stile.
Here he allowed each of them to pat him on the head, before turning and setting off at a run around the outskirts of the village. Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way back into Hogsmeade and up toward Hogwarts.
"Wonder if Percy knows all that stuff about Crouch?" Ron said as they walked up the drive to the castle. "But maybe he doesn't care . . . it'd probably just make him admire Crouch even more. Yeah, Percy loves rules. He'd just say Crouch was refusing to break them for his own son."
"Percy would never throw any of his family to the dementors," said Hermione severely.
"I don't know," said Ron. "If he thought we were standing in the way of his career .. . Percy's really ambitious, you know. ..."
They walked up the stone steps into the entrance hall, where the delicious smells of dinner wafted toward them from the Great Hall.
"Poor old Snuffles," said Ron, breathing deeply. "He must really like you, Harry. . . . Imagine having to live off rats."
