The something Sirius had been waiting for happened in about three weeks, although, disappointingly enough, Remus didn't manage to sleep through all that time. He was sitting at the dining table, stirring a mug of creamy brown coffee, forming all the swirly shapes in it that he'd loved watching as a teenager, when the last person he'd been expecting to hear disrupted the little serenity he'd been able to get.
"Sirius?" a voice said from behind the dining table and Remus jumped, cutting the lovely figure eight he'd been making in the caffeine right through the middle. He whipped around and saw, among the smouldering coals and crackling fire, Harry's head in the fireplace, his hair wilder than ever from Floo travel.
"Harry!" he boomed, shocked, but worry quickly overtook his initial surprise and he blurted out a number of questions all at once. "What are you - what's happened, is everything alright?"
"Yeah," Harry nodded, looking around nervously, causing Remus to sag with relief, almost tipping his steaming beverage in the process. "I just wondered - I mean, I just fancied a -" he stuttered, not quite meeting the other's eyes. "- a chat with Sirius." Remus's eyebrows shot up.
"I'll call him," he assured slowly, thoroughly puzzled. "He went upstairs to look for Kreacher, he seems to be hiding in the attic again ..." and he hurried up the carpeted stairs, taking two steps at a time and wondering what Harry must've thought so important to talk about that he broke into the Umbridge woman's office ...
"Bloody git, he actually hid the family pictures ..." Sirius's irritated tone could be heard through the door, the creakiest and oldest in the ancient house, to the attic, followed by a series of noisy crashes and vibrant cursing. Remus turned the serpentine door handle to find that something heavy lay on the other side, jamming it shut.
"Oi," Sirius's cautious voice cut off his efforts. "Who's there?"
"Remus," he answered. The door clattered open as a majestic marble statue floated away from behind it, a teal Chimaera coated in dust, and was dropped unceremoniously close to the filthy window, sunlight filtering feebly on its snarling face.
"What is it?" Sirius said, standing in a pile of broken china that made clicking noises every time it was moved and stuffing his wand in his pocket. A few more chips fell and ticked collectively as he stepped out of it, reminding Remus heavily of the keyboard on his father's computer.
"It's Harry," Remus replied, "he wants to talk to you."
In the span of a minute, he was back in the kitchen, Sirius running behind him.
"What is it?" he asked Harry immediately, dropping to the floor in front of the fireplace. "Are you all right? Do you need help?" Harry shook his head in response, looking anywhere but at the two Marauders in the kitchen. "It's nothing like that. I just wanted to talk," he paused uncertainly, "about my dad."
Sirius and Remus exchanged looks of surprise but couldn't say anything as Harry quickly dove into the story, telling them about his last Occlumency lesson, seeing Snape's memory, the uncertainty he'd been feeling about his father and, when they'd reassured him that James hadn't been a horrible person and that he'd only seen one facet of his father's personality in the fifteen year old in the Penseive, that Snape had stopped giving him Occlumency training.
"He WHAT?" Sirius yelled furiously, causing the boy to jump.
"Are you serious, Harry? He's stopped giving you lessons?" Remus asked before Sirius could shout anything else.
"Yeah," Harry replied, surprised at their reactions. "But it's OK, I don't care, it's a bit of a relief to tell you the -"
"I'm coming up there to have a word with Snape!" Sirius announced resolutely, getting up from his crouch, only to have Remus tug him back down forcefully.
"If anyone's going to tell Snape it will be me!" he said firmly, wondering grimly if Snape's enmity with James stretched beyond the limits of a schoolboy grudge. "But Harry, first of all, you're to go back to Snape and tell him that on no account is he to stop giving you lessons -" he shuddered. "When Dumbledore hears -"
"I can't tell him that, he'd kill me!" Harry countered angrily, giving him a most Lily-esque glare, eyes seeming to glow in the backdrop of the fire.
"Harry, there is nothing so important as you learning Occlumency. Do you understand me?" Remus impressed on him, stressing each word. "Nothing!" Sirius nodded fervently next to him.
"OK, OK," Harry relented, shifting his disappointed gaze between them. "I'll ... I'll try and say something to him ... but it won't be -" he quieted suddenly, eyes darting sharply around as if straining to hear something. "Is that Kreacher coming downstairs?"
"No," Sirius replied, checking the stairs over his shoulder. "It must be somebody your end."
"I'd better go!" Harry declared, vanishing from the fireplace in an instant. Remus turned to exchange a concerned glance with Sirius but the other man held up his hand, eyes focused intensely on the grate as if trying to remember something. About a minute passed when Sirius suddenly slapped his forehead, looking torn between realising something momentous and regretting every decision he'd ever made. Before Remus could say anything he grabbed a fistful of Floo powder from the silver pot nearby and tossed it into the fireplace before sticking his head inside it.
"Umbridge's office, Hogwarts!" he shouted. Remus let out an exasperated sigh, calling on whatever force had blessed him with the patience he'd depended on when he'd first become friends with Sirius Black.
———
Harry had barely managed to pull on the Invisibility Cloak when Filch burst in, determinedly surveying the office and murmuring frantically. He pulled open a few random drawers before reaching what must've been the right one and ogling at its contents in a star struck manner, a compassion glazing his eyes in a way that only ever happened when Mrs. Norris caught a particularly troublesome student and Filch got the opportunity to punish them.
As if she'd detected Filch's once-in-a-blue-moon ecstasy, Hogwarts' most detested cat peered round the doorway, eyeing her owner with a questioning "Meow?" The cats on the wall hissed menacingly at her. One kitten in particular slashed its tabby paws in Mrs. Norris's direction.
Filch snatched what could only be, based on his previous mutterings, the permission form for whipping students and waved it triumphantly at his cat. "See, my dearest! We can finally get those wretched germs back for what they've done!" He kissed the form and Mrs. Norris yowled encouragingly as the duo left the room, Filch with a rare spring in his step. Umbridge's wall-cats cats sniffed indignantly at the retreating Caretaker pair.
Harry slung his bag on his shoulder and made to stand up when the dying flames in the fireplace roared to life. He stumbled back, alarmed, hitting his head painfully on the corner of Umbridge's desk.
"Ow," he hissed, swiping at his watering eyes to see who had emerged among the blazing coals.
"Sirius?" he whispered, staring at his godfather disbelievingly and quickly flinging himself to the other side of the room to shut the door. "Why did you do that? Filch was here just a second ago, he could've seen you!"
Sirius ignored his question, eyeline pointing somewhere on the left of Harry's head. "Never mind that! And don't take off the Cloak!" he ordered when Harry made to do just that. "I forgot to ask you something. It's important," he spoke quickly. "Did you open the package, Harry?"
"What?" Harry deadpanned, sifting through his mind for a memory of a package, thinking that the Occlumency lessons had really muddled it up.
"The present, the one I gave you after Christmas!" Sirius reminded urgently.
"Oh," Harry realised, remembering the poorly wrapped object Sirius had forced into his hand before he had boarded the Knight Bus from Grimmauld Place in January. "Er - no," he answered sheepishly. "I uh - forgot about it - sorry," he added when he caught Sirius's expression, a mix of hurt, disappointment, and annoyance on his face.
"Well, make sure you open it now," Sirius said in a firm voice, not meeting Harry's gaze. Harry opened his mouth to apologise again but Sirius shook his head. "Don't, it's alright. That was no easy week for you. Just promise me you'll open it."
"Promise," Harry did. Sirius nodded.
"Well, you should get going. Try not to break into any more offices from now. Bye," he smiled.
"Bye," Harry echoed as Sirius's head disappeared and the emerald fire whittled down again, getting to his feet and hurrying from the office. He just about made it to the Great Hall to witness the Weasley twins' epic departure, resulting in him dazedly dwelling on how bizarre the day had gotten as everyone left for their dormitories later.
———
"I can't believe it!" Ginny gesticulated wildly at the air, greatly resembling a rambling politician. "Mum'll be so mad! She won't care that they just made Hogwarts history and started a business, she'll murder them the moment they visit!"
"Ginny, I've been saying that since yesterday!" Ron mirrored her gestures, beaming as Hermione rolled her eyes at the siblings' behaviour. The two had gotten into one of their 'reverse arguments' again where, instead of quarreling aggressively and glaring at each other, they agreed heartily and smiled till their faces went sore over a certain point, each uplifting the other with similar opinions and supportive comments. She huffed soundlessly and forced herself to focus on the text of Genealogy and Property: A Comprehensive History of Britain's Richest Magical Families, distractedly wondering where Harry had gone to as the last Weasleys remaining at Hogwarts 'argued' loudly. She may have loved reading but Hermione knew that she was no introvert; having someone to listen to her rant passionately about something was always welcome (and sometimes essential), especially when said someone didn't interrupt and occasionally shared observations she herself hadn't noticed, even if they sometimes cut her off or, more rarely, asked her to stop. Perhaps she could bore Parvati later that night, she thought resignedly, if the girl hadn't gone to sleep already.
"I know, the look on Umbridge's face when the fireworks blew up! I wonder how they ever managed to make those things," Ron exclaimed cheerfully, eyes shining like pearls and causing Hermione to suppress a smile; it was rare to see him (or anyone, really) this happy these days and it was highly contagious.
Ginny nodded enthusiastically, combing a hand through her flame-coloured hair. "The toffees weren't too surprising but fireworks? How did they ever find a place to make them that didn't burn to rubble?" She fell back into an armchair, seeming to finally notice that the Common Room had emptied completely but for them. Ron followed her in a chair beside Hermione, both of them seeming to have tired from their agreeability fest.
"What time is it?" he asked, yawning heavily.
"Quarter past eleven," Hermione answered without looking up, even though she wasn't actually reading.
"Blimey, I thought it was eight," Ginny groaned, draping an arm over the crown of her chair and a leg over the armrest. "You'd think that time would be nice enough to pass slowly when we're happy but no," she shook her head dramatically. "It's too much to ask for." She rolled onto the floor, becoming concealed behind the book laden table and, as an afterthought, voiced the question she didn't know was on Hermione's mind, "I wonder where Harry is? I haven't seen him since two hours ago. You two don't know, do you?"
"No," Ron denied before Hermione could. "He went to bed round nine." Ginny's head appeared above the table, a curious look on her face, ignoring Hermione's floating knitting needles in front of her as they clacked and strung yellow yarn together.
"Huh. Bit early for him, eh?" she commented.
"Harry stayed up last night studying for the History O.W.L," Hermione elaborated on Ron's lie, knowing full well that Harry wasn't asleep in his dorm room as they spoke, having seen him leave the Common Room an hour ago. "He said he didn't get enough sleep and went to bed early tonight." She forced herself to sound approving rather than worried which appeared to convince Ginny that they were being honest.
Nodding, Ginny wobbled sleepily to her feet and wished them a good night, yawning as she trudged up the stairs to the dormitories. Hermione counted all thirty-nine audible footsteps before the girl would be out of earshot of the Common Room and immediately turned to Ron, needles and half-finished scarf clattering onto the hill of books and tottering inkwell towers.
"You have no idea where Harry is, do you?" she raised an eyebrow at him.
"No," Ron shook his head. "He just asked me to cover for him, said he'd turn up round eleven and left."
"Did he take the Invisibility Cloak?"
"Yeah."
"He didn't say what he was doing?"
"No, he didn't."
Hermione bit her lip, marking the page she'd been on for the past hour and closing the book at last. A short silence settled between them until Ron broke it by reassuring her in the most Ron Weasley-ish way possible - blunt and straightforward.
"Don't worry, if he was in trouble Umbridge would have come after us immediately, he's hardly ever messed up badly without us knowing or being involved," he pointed out. Hermione nodded, grateful for the grounded mindset that she supposed stopped Ron from overthinking like she did. She packed her things and waited impatiently for roughly six minutes before the portrait swung open, revealing the empty corridor outside it. Light footsteps could be heard over the Fat Lady's faint cursing, slowly getting louder until Harry materialised in front of them, draping his Invisibility Cloak onto the back of a chair.
"Where were you?" Hermione asked pointedly. Ron shot into a sitting position at her voice, looking around for a bit before he spotted Harry and grinned.
"Great," he said. "You didn't get caught."
Harry snorted, sitting down and pulling his bag off his shoulder. "I was going to tell you this yesterday but everyone was so excited over George and Fred's swamp prank so I saved it for today."
"Harry, it's almost twelve," Hermione interjected, pointing at his watch. He waved her comment away and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small mirror.
"It's a two-way mirror. I just talked to Sirius using it. He gave it to me on Christmas but I forgot to open it," he explained as Hermione turned the mirror in her hand, reading the scribbled note on the back.
"I've read about those!" Ron cut in, much to Hermione's surprise. She stared at him, bewildered, but he simply shrugged his shoulders and continued, "Dad brought this book home from the Ministry once, Magic Beyond Reflections. It came from the Department of Mysteries so I snatched it one night and read it in secret."
"Department of Mysteries?" she prompted curiously while Harry frowned, brows furrowed as if in in deep thought.
"It's the weird place where the Unspeakables work," Ron informed. "They never talk about it and the Ministry keeps it awfully quiet too, so most folks don't even know it exists."
"Hang on," Harry cut in, tone contemplative. "D'you know which floor it's on?"
"Er - second last, same as the Wizengamot court rooms, I think," Ron eyed him questioningly but Harry didn't say anything, still frowning.
"Well," Hermione interrupted his contemplation, "you'd better erase that note from the mirror, Harry, in case anyone finds it. Speaking of which, does Sirius know where Professor Dumbledore is? Did you ask him?"
"Yeah, I did," Harry replied distractedly. "But no, he hasn't got a clue. No one else in the Order does either."
And so the three fell into quietude, each lost in their own presumptions. Hermione managed to finish the sunlight yellow scarf and wrapped it haphazardly in some waste parchment, throwing it out in the corridor this time. She ambled to her dorm room after wishing the boys a good night, satisfied with the day's events, pondering if she could somehow get her hands on the book Ron had mentioned, extensive and difficult though it likely would be to access such a secretive place.
———