Chapter 35 – Memorial Service

Sirius opened his eyes. He was in the Hospital Wing. The curtains were drawn around the bed. He must have fallen asleep...somehow, despite the turmoil in his mind. He listened carefully for the voices of his friends, the nurse or the Potters. After recalling his breakdown in front of them all, he hoped the silence meant he was alone.

He pulled open the curtains around the bed. James was fast asleep in the bed beside him; a book on Quidditch open on his chest. Sirius felt a tug of a smile before it instantly faded. His gaze lingered on the bright green paste applied to the bruise on James's face, and it brought back the heaviness of yesterday's tragedy.

Sirius rolled out of the bed having to take a moment to stabilize his wobbly legs. He reached out to grab the Quidditch book when James's whole body jerked suddenly. The movement startled him, and then James was blinking groggily up at him.

James winced as he attempted to sit up.

"Here," Sirius said immediately, tossing the book on his bed and helping arrange the pillows so James could lean in a seated position.

"Thank you," James said. Then he closed his eyes, his face strained in pain. "My head is pounding."

"Should I get Madam Pomfrey?"

"No," James said his eyes still closed. "She's not going to be happy to see you out of bed." He cracked open one of his eyes nodding vaguely at a bell. "We can ring that if we need her."

"I'm…" Sirius wanted to say fine, but it was a lie that he was unable to say. He moved backward, sitting cross legged on top of the bed. "Are you parents still here?"

"No, they left. The Ministry wanted to speak to my father…he might know the identity of who killed Professor Keenan."

"Oh," Sirius said quietly, his stomach forming knots instantly. The Ministry was moving quickly…so that was positive.

"I tried ask my father about it, but all he said was: He has enemies." James sighed. "He didn't want to talk about it further."

Sirius picked at one of the strings unraveling on the bed comforter. "You really think he might know those Death Eaters?"

"I don't know." James shrugged. "As I said he didn't say much, but he did sound…disappointed. I think I – we – might be in for a bit of lecture when we return home."

"We?" He was thinking that maybe the Potters had decided he was too much trouble, and that's why they were being a bit colder toward their son. "Are you sure I'm still…?"

"Welcome? Yes."

"Did you ask them?'

"I didn't need to."

Sirius thought of Mrs. Potter's embrace and how genuinely relieved James's parents had been to see them both alive. But he wasn't their son, and he wouldn't blame them if they revoked their permission. And then there were his parents to worry about. Dumbledore had said there had been no communication from the Blacks, but Sirius knew that could change up to the point of him stepping onto the Potter's property.

"Well it does make sense that they'd speak to your father first. I wish them luck trying to get my father to cooperate."

"Even to catch the man that nearly killed his son?"

"Good point. He'd probably would want him arrested for missing," Sirius replied darkly. Then the pit in his stomach formed again…because the Death Eater hadn't missed…had he? James was looking at him with a frown, his hazel eyes clouded with worry. He moved to sit up more properly, wincing in pain.

"Should you still be in this much pain?" Sirius asked. "Maybe I should get Madam Pomfrey?"

"No need, Mr. Black," Pomfrey said walking in, her shoes clicking on the floor. "Who should I look over first?"

"Another night at least," Pomfrey declared after looking over them thoroughly.

For a brief second, Sirius thought about arguing, but then quickly decided against it. He knew that James definitely required more care, and he didn't want to leave him alone. Pomfrey had easily fixed James's fractured rib, but the bruising he sustained was healing slowly. Pomfrey had James on a strict potion schedule; and many of them had side effects, including headaches and drowsiness.

Sirius didn't have any physical injuries besides the ligature marks that had already been treated. Every so often Sirius experienced short burst of pain in his muscles caused by an uncommon side effect of Dark Magic. There was no cure for that besides time. He was also emotionally drained and exhausted, so anything more than laying there felt as if it would require too much energy.

Besides the fatigue, Sirius also had no appetite. The sight and smell of food still made his stomach roll. While James easily ate a bowl of porridge, Sirius choked down a pale, tasteless broth. Sirius didn't understand Pomfrey's concern, but he knew his eating needed to improve in order for him to be discharged from the Hospital Wing.

They were kept in the isolation room. Besides the staff, only Remus and Peter were allowed to visit for short periods. During one of those visits, Sirius found out that James had already told them what had really happened during their nighttime visit. Sirius couldn't imagine how James had managed to talk so soon about the tragedy after the interrogation by the Ministry employee, but he was grateful he had.

The rest of the time James and Sirius had to amuse themselves. There were long stretches of silence because they were both avoiding a certain topic. Sirius was perfectly fine with delaying any serious discussion between them. Towards the evening, Sirius sensed that James was ready to talk, but it wasn't until hours later that James made an attempt to do so.

Sirius had already switched off the lamp between the beds. They had said their good nights. Sirius wasn't expecting sleep to come anytime soon, but he was making a valiant attempt by closing his eyes and counting back from 100.

"He saved my life too."

Sirius's eyes snapped open. He didn't react right away keeping his gaze on the ceiling tiles.

"Sirius?"

"Yes?"

"Professor Keenan saved my life too."

Sirius, of course, had heard him the first time. He just hadn't known how to respond.

"Padfoot."

He wished James would go to sleep. "What is it?" He tried and failed to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

"A response would be nice," James said dryly.

"You didn't ask a question."

"I'd still like a response."

Sirius closed his eyes as the image of the deadly green light danced in his mind. He shook the image away focusing on the present. "You weren't the one pushed out of the way of the Killing Curse."

"I know, but… but the reason we were in that situation…the reason we were so defenseless was because of me."

Sirius turned his body slightly towards James. In the darkness, he could just make out his best friend. "What do you mean?"

"Keenan surrendered – you both surrendered – to save me."

"We had to. We weren't going to watch that Death Eater mutilate you in front of us!"

"If I hadn't gotten caught…"

"If we are comparing blame, technically I got caught first. Remember? When the book-cases moved?"

"Yea well…you had nowhere to run. I was hidden really well. They might have not found me if I hadn't—if I hadn't -"

"You heard me being tortured? Didn't you?" He remembered the excruciating pain as the muscles in his legs twitched in response to the memory.

James didn't really seem to be fully listening. "Yes…but I should have kept my head. I shouldn't have charged at them! With a wooden post of all things!" James's voice was laden with disgust in himself.

The Uncle had known exactly what he was doing when he threw the Crucio Curse at him. It had brought both Keenan and James out of hiding. It was true without a hostage; they might have subdued the Death Eaters. They had been winning, but he knew thinking like that was pointless. There was no way to truly know what would have happened if James had stayed hidden.

"You were brave."

"I was stupid."

"I would have done the same thing," Sirius stated quietly turning on his back, staring at the ceiling. "I wouldn't have sat by while I heard them torturing you."

He expected that this would be enough to assure James, and the conversation would be over.

"The point is…what I really want to say…is that I feel it too."

There was an unbearable silence before Sirius asked the next question. "Feel what?"

"The guilt."

James went through all the motions required to get himself released from the Hospital Wing the next morning. He lied that his head was no longer hurting and did his best not to wince with each movement. Sirius must have been thinking the same thing because he exclaimed loudly that he felt fully rested and then struggled through eating a half a bowl of porridge.

James doubted that Sirius had slept well. James certainly hadn't. Their conversation last night hadn't exactly been sleep-inducing. He'd been hoping to get more out of Sirius after bringing up his feelings of guilt. They were both struggling, and James thought it would be easier if they could face this together. Only Sirius appeared to want to deal with it all on his own.

Pomfrey agreed to release them after lunch. This way she could monitor their health a little longer and it would give them enough time to change into proper robes before the Memorial Service. They were also required to check-in with her after dinner.

Remus and Peter showed up to walk them back to their dormitory. It was a nice show of camaraderie, but it also prevented James from revisiting last night's conversation. He didn't want the others involved or worried…at least not yet. It probably wasn't the best time to discuss it anyway. Going to the Memorial Service was going to be difficult enough.

"Everyone has been asking where you are," Remus began as they walked down the hall in a slightly staggered line.

James yawned, ruffling his hair. "What are you telling them?"

Remus didn't answer right way. He stopped walking and turned slightly to look at James. "No one is supposed to know you were involved, right?"

"Right," James answered. "The Ministry wanted to keep it quiet…why?"

Sirius was the one to answer. "Everyone knows, don't they?" He began walking again forcing the others to do the same.

"Yes," Remus affirmed frowning at Sirius's nonchalance.

"It's all over the school," Peter stated anxiously.

"What exactly is known?"

"Most of it…" Remus began counting on his fingers. "The fact you snuck out…that Keenan caught you…and that you were there when he was killed."

James cursed under his breath. While at first, he'd been put-off by the idea, there had also been a comfort in the information not being public knowledge. It would have allowed them to process it all in private.

"There's one more thing," Peter added quickly, his eyes looking more watery than usual. "Everyone also knows the Killing Curse was meant for Sirius."

This news caused Sirius to stop so abruptly that Peter practically ran into him. Sirius glared at Peter as if it was somehow his fault this information had been leaked.

"Don't worry, I'll throw anyone who bothers you in detention," Remus said, "And Peter will-"

"I'll hex them…my reputation alone will be enough to scare them away…" Peter stated standing tall and failing to look at all intimidating. And that got even Sirius to smile.

"I don't understand how that got out," James stated. "It would have to been deliberate…and-"

"By someone in the Ministry," Sirius said quietly.

James nodded. "By someone in the Ministry who then told someone at Hogwarts..."

"The more important question is why. Why go through all that trouble?" Remus said.

James felt overwhelmed. He looked at Sirius hoping he might have an opinion, but once again his best friend would not meet his eyes. There was that distance again that he hated.

"Maybe…maybe it's just to make things difficult for the Ministry and the Aurors?" James offered. "Make them look incompetent?" James hoped that was the case because the only other reason that floated around in his mind was more troubling. If the Ministry wasn't the target then there was only one other he could think of (himself and Sirius).

"Maybe," Remus agreed. "We brought the Cloak...if you want to use it?" Remus nodded towards Peter who unveiled a silver fabric underneath his robes.

It would be easier to avoid the stares, but the fact of the matter was the longest they could avoid it was an additional hour. Most of the school would be at the Memorial Service, and they would be forced to confront their peers there.

"Thank you," James said taking the Cloak. "But maybe we should just get this over with?"

James glanced back at Sirius again expecting to find him looking off in the distance.

Instead, Sirius met his gaze resolutely. "Let's get this over with."

Despite Avery's claim about a fallout for Black and Potter, Snape doubted anything long-lasting would occur. First of all, Avery wasn't the best of planners. Secondly, Snape wasn't sure what the fallout would be about. The pair hadn't been expelled; once again getting away with major rule breaking. Perhaps Black could be mocked for needing to be saved by Professor Keenan, but that wouldn't really damage his reputation in a significant way. Avery claimed the Ministry wanted Potter's and Black's involvement to be kept secret, so there would be the shock aspect of everyone knowing. Since the Gryffindors (especially Potter) enjoyed the spotlight so much, Snape wasn't sure this would even matter in the long run.

Avery had no trouble circulating the information around the school. The student body had always thrived on gossip. Snape had kept a close eye on the Gryffindor table (even though his stomach twisted every time his eyes fell accidently on Lily), but Potter and Black had not shown themselves since the news had broken. He assumed they were in the Hospital Wing, and he wondered if they'd be present at the Memorial Service. Professor Slughorn had made it sound mandatory for Slytherins even though Lestrange had already told them he wasn't going

Snape did prod Avery for as much information as possible. He wanted to know the details on the off chance he could use it against the Gryffindors at a later time.

Potter, Black, and Keenan wandless, tied-up, defenseless; on their knees begging for mercy and waiting for death.

Sirius Black tortured with the Cruciatus curse.

James Potter beaten badly enough that he had a blackeye and internal bruising.

It was all surprisingly close to Snape's own fantasies about getting the Gryffindors back when he was feeling particularly vengeful. Potter and Black might strut around the castle believing they were the best and invincible, but here was proof that they were no match for full-fledged wizards. One day, he vowed, he would have all those who had mocked him shaking on their knees.

It rained the day of the Memorial Service, forcing Dumbledore to move it inside. Snape followed Avery and Mulciber as they joined the line of students. The Great Hall had been transformed and it was a sight to see. The usual four tables were gone and replaced with rows of white wooden chairs. Candles and ornate trays with wine goblets floated along the perimeter of the room. The ceiling matched the outdoor sky, stormy and gray. The low light making it feel as it was much later in the day. A hum filled the room from all the hushed voices. Prefects were directing students to the front to fill the rows in the quickest, most practical way.

His eyes, trained to spot Lily Evans in a crowd, found her comforting a distraught looking first year near the front of the room. Snape's stomach twisted with regret. He had to forcefully remind himself that she was no longer his concern.

He glanced back at Avery and Mulciber praying that they hadn't noticed him noticing her. He did not want Lily back on their radar. He didn't need to worry because it was other Gryffindors that had caught their attention.

It was impossible not to notice them. As usual Potter and his gang were being given special treatment; allowed to sit in the back row while everyone else was being pushed towards the front. Lupin had even been given a pass from prefect duties.

Though he was so terrible at the job, his presence would hardly be missed, Snape thought bitterly.

The four Gryffindors may have been the center of attention, but no one dared approach them. Black didn't look any different, as aloof as always. Potter's bruise was uglier and more prominent than Snape had expected; shades of blue and purple contrasting to his pale skin. The injury looked like it hurt. Potter may have looked like a proud wounded warrior to many, but Snape knew differently. Potter had the look of someone who had been really defeated for the first time.

Avery, of course, had no qualms about going against social protocol. Others might be wary of approaching the quartet, but the Slytherin did not care.

"This way," Avery directed, moving against the flow of students.

Snape followed because he expected the exchange to be entertaining, and with every Professor and Prefect milling nearby, Avery would be stopped before things escalated.

Avery paused behind the Gryffindors, making a loud tutting noise that lacked all sincerity. The four Gryffindors turned in their seat, matching looks of annoyance.

"Oi, Potter, that looks painful." Avery pointed at Potter's face for emphasis. "Bludger got the best of you?"

"Keep talking and I can arrange a matching bruise on your own face," Sirius threatened.

"Am I supposed to be afraid?" Avery chuckled. "Lick your wounds, Potter, and think long and hard about your future."

"Thank you for your concern," Potter replied sarcastically.

Avery focused his attention on Black as a malicious smile formed on his face. He whipped out a handkerchief tossing it to him. "A present for you, Black. To dry your tears-"

Black was on his feet, the handkerchief balled up in one of his fists. Black whipped out his wand as the prefects descended upon them. They were told briskly to take seats elsewhere. Avery pretended to be shocked by Black's display of anger, though he doubted anyone bought his innocent act. As Snape turned back to look, he could see Black had been taken the side by McGonagall and based on his demeanor, he was being scolded for losing his temper. Gone though was the aloofness of earlier, and Snape was certain Black was having difficulty holding down his emotions.

"What was that about?" Snape asked taking a seat on the aisle. They were now seated in the middle of the room, several rows away from the Gryffindors.

"Hmm?"

"Didn't that seem to be a bit of an overreaction on Black's part?"

Avery shrugged. "Runs in the family. My Mum says the Blacks have always been a bit unstable."

"But don't let them hear you say that," Mulciber warned.

"I think he actually may have-"

"May have what?"

"Cried over Keenan," Snape stated off handedly.

Mulciber looked disgusted by the idea, but Avery didn't appear that interested in discussing it further. Snape was rather annoyed about this. He thought this was the perfect opportunity to exploit the emotional instability he was sensing in Black. What better place to do it then in front of the entire school?

He didn't press the matter deciding he'd find time on his own to rattle Black. Instead, he occupied himself by watching the students around him. He was rather dismayed by the display of emotion and sadness. Keenan had taught for only a year, so he couldn't have meant that much to them. He glared in distaste at the girl in front of him, who was dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.

The room fell silent as Dumbledore approached the podium. The Headmaster spoke for several minutes about the grief process and explained to them that their feelings were all normal. ("Even feelings of joy?" Mulciber muttered under his breath.) He then went on about how life continued on after a tragic event and that while it was important to remember those lost, it was also important to move on.

Several teachers followed with similar words. A few told them stories about Keenan as a student. Snape let his mind wander. He was uninterested in learning anything more about a dead person. After the adults had their say, it was the students turn. One student spoke and another read a poem. It ended with two perfects announcing they were taking donations for an engraved plaque in Professor Keenan's honor.

As the service came to an end, the trays around the room came to life, moving down each aisle so each student could take a goblet of wine. During this time, Snape glanced back at the Gryffindors. Pettigrew was looking down at the ground, Lupin's eyes looked a bit watery, and Potter's jaw was clenched. Snape was now confident he'd been right about his earlier assessment because Black looked on the verge of having an emotional outburst. He wondered briefly if there was anything, he could right then and there to push Black over the edge. Unable to think of anything, he took the last of the wine goblets off the floating tray for his row.

Dumbledore raised his glass. "In honor of Professor Keenan. In honor of the teacher that he was. He will be missed."

There was a murmur of agreement as everyone lifted their glasses. Snape was disappointed to find the wine was actually grape juice, but at least the service was almost over and he could get back to more important things.

That's when Avery jumped to his feet. He lifted his full glass up, waiting for most of the room to give him their attention.

"And let's raise our glasses to Sirius Black." Avery paused. "For his part in purifying our world."

There was a collective gasp of breath. No one seemed to know how to react. Then the murmuring of the crowd grew louder and louder as the meaning sunk in. Potter looked livid, and Black had lost all the color in his face. Above the growing dim of voices, Avery looked directly at Sirius. "Even the Mudblood understood that your life was worth more than his."

Black stayed frozen as Avery was hauled to his feet by two seventh year Prefects. Slughorn rose from his seat shaking his head, forced to follow the group and deal with the matter.

"Did he tell you he was going to do this?" Snape hissed at Mulciber. Students around them were giving them cold looks, and he was already feeling very uncomfortable.

"He did not." Mulciber tossed the glass of juice back draining it.

"Settle down, please. Settle down," Professor McGonagall said above the commotion. It didn't matter. Even as the student body quieted and Dumbledore tried to smooth things over with additional words, the moment was lost.

The memorial service had been ruined. Avery had forever stained Keenan's sacrifice. It was no longer simply about a teacher giving their life for a student. Now the war on blood had been brought into his actions. A Muggleborn had died protecting a pureblood (a member of the Sacred 28), and there was no denying it mattered.

Black bolted, with the others following quickly behind, the moment they were dismissed. Snape should have been thrilled to see Black so agitated, but he couldn't fully enjoy it. He'd always thought himself more intelligent than Avery and Mulciber. Yet, Avery had seen opportunity where he had not.

Snape since a young child had always thought very little of Muggles, but ranking witches and witches by their blood purity had never fully made sense to him. His hatred for Potter and Black had very little to do with their political allegiances.

Snape needed to start thinking bigger picture. He needed to focus less on his personal battles. Or like Avery; find a way to do both with a single action.

Author's note: Thank you to all my readers (new and old). Leave a review if you can! I apologize for the delay in finishing this story. I wasn't in the mindset to write until now with everything that was happening. I should be getting out the last two chapters of the story out before the end of the year.