Chapter 22: Hope

Remus and Sirius find hope in the search for Harry Potter

The two men tore through Hogwarts with all haste. Their thundering footfalls led them swiftly to the great shifting staircases, which they climbed with surprising speed for men of their age. Sirius felt like his younger self, the thrill of discovery coursing through his veins as he and Remus ran, steps casting a tapping through the stone hallways. Torches and candlelight lit the way as they came closer and closer until finally the grey gargoyle statue was in sight.

Remus only caught a side-long glimpse as his friend's face, but there was no missing the maniac triumph in Sirius Black's eyes.

"Sugar Floss! Ice Mice? Candy Cane! Oh, blast it all, with these sweets! What else is there… Jelly Slugs! Chocolate! Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans! Butterscotch!"

The great stone gargoyle leapt aside at last. Both Remus and Sirius hurried in and up the spiral stair.

Lupin felt his own heart thundering in his chest. After so long, to suddenly receive a summons for Dumbledore, and telling them to come at once! It had to be about Harry! He could hardly hear Sirius knock, so loudly did his heart drum in between his ears. After all this time, what would he look like? Just like James? Or did he take after Lily, with a softer smile, with sweet words and kind manners, how tall was he? The questions ate Remus up from the inside as Sirius lost patience with waiting and just spelled the door open with a wave of his wand.

Inside all the usual appearances of the Headmaster's office greeted them. Dumbledore himself was sitting beside the fire speaking in genial tones to a young tow-haired man with pudgy cheeks.

Sirius laughed, a wild sound, and sprung forward.

"I knew it, I knew! Oh, I just knew it'd be you! Harry, it's me! Sirius Black, d'you remember? Harry!"

He crowded the young man sitting beside the headmaster, so eager his hands trembled, only to stop at the young man's terrified brown-eyed gaze.

Brown. Not green.

Sirius deflated at once.

"Oh," he rasped, stepping back with a heavy heart. "Oh, excuse me, son. Mistook you. I thought you were… thought you were someone else, for a moment."

"Mr. Black," Dumbledore said kindly, standing slowly to his full height, made taller by his ridiculous orange-and-gold-and-blue hat. "Don't fret. Please, me and Mr. Longbottom here were just speaking. Young Farley was telling me the most interesting story, weren't you, my boy?"

"Yes, sir," Farley agreed, still eyeing Sirius with a fair amount of wariness. "It was about the snake attack on my parents."

"The Petrification?" Remus piped up, cautiously curious. "That really happened? I heard it was all rumor and conjecture…"

"It really did happen! I was there," Farley exclaimed.

Dumbledore waved a hand between them before emotions could run high.

"Now, now. You know the truth of the matter, my dear boy, because you saw it. Do you think you'd be so kind as to show the three of us?"

"But how could I do that, Mr. Dumbledore?" Farley Longbottom worried. "It happened so long ago—it's just a memory, now."

"Precisely," Dumbledore said, his eyes sparkling, and he raised his wand with a flourish. From one of the cupboards came a great shallow bowl, filled with a silvery liquid. Its surface winked with different images, some clear, some vague, all moving across the shining surface of the Pensive. Remus and Sirius glanced over its surface with distrustful eyes.

"I want you to focus on your memory of that day," Dumbledore said soothingly, "try to picture it in your mind. Let yourself remember everything you did that day, what you saw, the shapes, the sounds, even the smells, if you can. Then, when you're ready, I'll use my magic to make it so we can all four of us see what you're remembering. Can you do that for us, Mr. Longbottom?"

Farley looked up, determination burning in his eyes.

"Yes, sir. I'll do it. Then, you'll all really believe me?"

"Of course. Just close your eyes and remember."

"I really thought it was him," Remus murmured as they watched Dumbledore collect the silvery strands of memory, dropping them in the Pensive, "I fooled myself, thinking that Dumbledore had really found him. I'm sorry, Sirius."

"You? I'm the sorry one," Sirius mused quietly. "I ran in like a fool, shouting. Shouting! What would Harry have thought if I really did show up, an adult he hadn't seen in years, suddenly shouting at him! Didn't those awful Muggles used to shout at him, too? Or am I remembering that wrong?"

"I think it's beside the point. Let's see what the Headmaster wants with us after all."

Nothing else to add, Sirius fell into comfortable silence side-by-side with his best friend.

He sent a brief thought of apology to his real best mate, long dead and buried. James would forgive him. Remus was still here and James was gone and Sirius was trying his best not to cling to the past. Trying to be better, to be present, and strong, for his best mate's son, who needed him.

Harry Potter.

James's son, and Lily's. Two of his closest friends, dead…

"Sirius, you're brooding."

The pale man half-barked a laugh.

"You always can tell," he muttered, running a hand through his uneven black locks, "Thanks, Moony. I'll stop stewing. I'm here."

Remus sent him a quick look, assessing the truth of his friend's words. Then he smiled and nodded.

"All done," Dumbledore said with a grandfatherly smile. "Well done, my boy!"

"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore, sir," the young Longbottom said, cheeks pink from the elderly wizard's praise.

"Now, the three of us are going to do something quite foolish looking. We're going to dunk just our faces into the bowl. We'll probably look quite ridiculous, with our bottoms sticking out in the air," Dumbledore said, pulling his long white beard with an amused twinkle in his blue eyes. Farley couldn't help laughing loudly at the thought. "Do you think you might give us a moment's privacy, young man?"

"Of course, sir! I'll just… um… oh! There's an awfully cool phoenix by your desk—may I?"

"Why, Fawkes would make a wonderful companion for you while we're indisposed! I'm afraid he isn't nearly as good for conversation, but I think you'll find he's excellent company."

The young man got up swiftly to busy himself with meeting the creature of legend. Fawkes trilled a pleased note, at the height of his current life, colored by breathtakingly beautiful feathers in the colors of fire, oranges and red and a splash of gold.

While he was distracted Dumbledore beckoned to both his former students. All three men leaned in around the Pensive with varying degrees of caution. They leaned forward together to tumble through memory.

Inside the Pensive Remus collected himself. Sirius tumbled through the mists of memory a few times before also orienting himself to the boy's thoughts. Dumbledore drew himself up with practiced grace as Farley's thoughts swirled around them, an uncertain haze.

"Well?"

"Patience," Dumbledore said steadily. "Younger minds can muddle memory. We'll have to wait and see what he saw."

The fog twisted and turned and eventually formed a strange patch of forest. The memory came together slowly, filling in trees and crops of interesting plants. Farley was wearing a Herbologist's cowl, and Remus guessed the portly man with his wand drawn was Farley's father, Algie Longbottom. He turned to look the direction Algie had drawn his wand in and gaped.

Two enormous snakes were coiled loosely together and in the middle, being lifted ever-so-carefully by Alfie's magic, was the outline of a young boy.

"It's him," Sirius whispered, breathless. "Moony, it's him—it's really him!"

"Sweet Merlin," Remus murmured, equally amazed. It was clearly little Harry Potter. They had time to examine him in the memory as Alfie slowly floated him closer and closer. Farley's memory was far from perfect, and the boy's face was blurred, but there was no mistaking the look of James Potter's son. He had nearly exactly the same shape of face, the slope of his nose and his wild black hair.

There were striking differences though. Where James had round spectacles, Harry had none. It made sense, even at the Dursley's Harry had never worn glasses. Remus just supposed that the child would mirror the father. And his skin was too tan for a boy his age and heritage. It was obvious he'd been spending all his days in the sun for years. But Remus could tell, from the slope of his shins, the shape of his shoulders, the wild crop of hair and familiar shape of his sleeping face: This was Harry Potter.

Both he and Sirius stared, captivated at the sight they'd been imagining for years now, at their friend's son. Alive! Right before their eyes! Sirius whimpered and reached out, only to grasp at empty smoke.

"It's just a memory," Dumbledore said gently as the image twisted into grey tendrils that wove back into misty mystery, the illusion of Harry Potter disappearing before their eyes. "Come. Let us return and speak of important matters."

Sirius shook his head slowly.

"I want to see him," he croaked. "Just… once more?"

Remus reached out a hand and took Sirius' shoulder. The black-haired man looked back with a stricken expression. Remus just smiled.

"Just a look?"

"Five minutes, tops."

"Fine. But I'll drop a Fizzing Whizbee down your trousers if you're late."

The far-off look in Sirius' eyes snapped, and he snorted a laugh.

"Go on, then! I won't mope. And don't you dare, Moony! I just need to see him again. Just once more."

Remus nodded and followed the Headmaster up and out of the Pensive.

Dumbledore was dismissing young Farley Longbottom whose left shoe was still smoldering, though the young man seemed quite pleased about it. "He likes me!" He was saying on his way to Dumbledore's Floo. "He went 'round the room twice and landed on my arm! Course, his tail's made of fire, and he didn't mean for it to get my trainer…" The young man chatted cheerfully even as the fireplace lit with bright green flames. He was on his way just as Sirius reeled back from the Pensive and stumbled over into an arm chair.

The three men convened on the same thought: Harry Potter had been seen by someone not two years ago!

"He's alive," Sirius rasped. There was emotion making his voice tight.

"Growing like a weed," Remus said fondly, eyes getting damp. "Did you see? He's a full head taller than when he went missing! Just like James, springing up early like that."

"We've got to get him—we've got to save him! He's still out there… Where's this Longbottom fellow live again?"

"Patience," Dumbledore cut in gently. "We must remember, these memories are at least seven-hundred days old. There is nothing to guarantee that young Harry is still in the area."

"It's the best lead we've had in ages! Albus!"

"Indeed. I had hoped, when I sent for the both of you, that this evening would turn up a clue, or a hint. To actually see proof of young Harry's whereabouts… to see such a defining sign that he did not perish after his disappearance brings great joy to this old fool's heart."

"Headmaster…"

Remus looked torn. On one hand, he had a healthy respect for Albus Dumbledore and everything he had done for wizarding kind. On the other, this was the man who suggested Harry be placed with Muggles in the first place! It was difficult to reconcile his image of the kind, loving, caring grandfatherly old man with someone who could possibly make such a huge mistake on purpose.

Sirius was far less reserved.

"You mean you're glad he's not gone from the hell-hole you left him in? Hah!"

"Sirius!"

"Don't stop me this time, Moony," Sirius snarled. "I never liked that plan! Not even SNAPE liked that plan! And yet we did it anyway, because Dumbledore knows best! Well, not this time! This time it's on you, Professor! I hope you're happy!"

"I am," Dumbledore said modestly, seemingly unaffected by the other man's outburst. "Happy that Harry Potter is alive and well. There isn't a day I don't regret leaving little Harry with less protection than was prudent, but the past is in the past. What we are here for tonight, gentlemen, is to solve the problem of his future."

He half-turned to indicate something on a far desk.

"The Naming Quill," he said in explanation as both Remus and Sirius stared. "Its purpose is to send letters magically addressed to any young boy or girl with the potential to study within the halls of Hogwarts a scholastic invitation. In some month's time, the Quill will send out letters to young witches and wizards across the nation, even across the world."

"That's fascinating," Remus said, "but what in the world does it have to do with Harry?"

"Young Harry Potter is turning eleven next school year," the Headmaster said with quiet the twinkle in his eye. "It is possible that the Naming Quill will write out a letter addressed straight to young Mr. Potter, and we can use that to trace his exact location. The Quill is quite capable of writing to the oddest locations. Once, I read a letter addressed to a young witch who slept exclusively on the roof of her doll house! Such a fun and interesting conversation…."

"Yes, yes, that's all very well," Sirius went on before Dumbledore could lose himself to memory. "So we have to wait until the letters go out next year? That's so long from now!"

"There's no advantage in waiting, is there, Headmaster? Is there a reason we can't just investigate the Longbottom residence now," Remus asked tentatively.

"Alas! The duties of Headmaster of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, are quite the burden," Dumbledore sighed, mildly dramatic. Then, with a sparkle in his eye, he continued. "Why, it's not every day that such a wizard could just wander over and inspect the nearby grounds to a Most Noble and Ancient House! However, perhaps two young men with less duties on their shoulders, with a touch of free time and a healthy motivation, could go and inspect it instead. Do you know of any such gentlemen?"

Sirius and Remus sprung to their feet at once.

"We'll be thorough," Remus promised as they fled to the Floo. "We'll scour the countryside—thank you, Headmaster, for this incredible opportunity—"

"Enough! I'm a very busy wizard," Dumbledore said with a broad smile, "and old! Much too old to be romping along the countryside! Better you younger men go and spend some time."

"We'll smell the flowers for you while we're there," Sirius called before disappearing into the green flames of the Floo.

End Chapter