Child of Hogwarts, Part II: The Marauder Legacy

by AimeretVivre

Sequel to COH, Part I. Follows Harry through Year Three at Hogwarts. See Part I for the premise... With Remus Lupin returned to Britain and Sirius Black on the move, Harry, Albus, Minerva and Severus continue to adjust to their changing realities and prepare for an uncertain future... while the ghosts of their pasts refuse to lie dormant. Mentorship; Training; Adventure.

36. The Knight, the Bishop, the Rook

A/N: Thank you for all the well wishes and the reviews! As my last A/N was quite long, I'll keep this one brief. I am trying to keep these speedy, hoping that we can wrap up Part II and start into Part III by May (a lofty goal, but I like high expectations)… so here is your next instalment!

Enjoy 'The Knight, the Bishop, the Rook and the King'! Please remember to read and review! My responses are at the end, as usual.

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DISCLAIMER: Any and all familiar characters and/or story lines are the property of Joanne Rowling.

Chapter 36: The Knight, the Bishop, the Rook and the King

The clock on the mantel chimed half past three, but nobody in the circular office appeared remotely tired anymore. Minerva passed out cups of tea as each perched in their respective chairs, still and silent. The sofa sat abandoned. It was not a night for comfort.

Remus was white-faced and terrified to Albus' eyes. The headmaster had ushered him downstairs without a word of acknowledgement in answer to his pronouncement, Minerva taking his lead and following in equally stunned silence. He waited a full five minutes to begin the inquiries, until everyone was situated and Mina had brought the steaming tea service.

But now, it was time to know.

His gut told him Remus was not disloyal. His instincts were screaming in Remus' defence… protesting that whatever the reason Remus had had to keep this vital information from him, it was not done for nefarious purposes. In his heart, he believed Remus was true, and good.

But then, he'd thought the same of Sirius Black. Before that, he'd stifled his scruples over Gellert. And both times, his faith had led to disastrous consequences.

No more. Harry would not be another casualty of his folly.

'You know what I must ask you, Remus,' Albus said at last. 'And it is late. I do not have the patience for introductory queries. So start at the beginning, if you would.'

Remus nodded. He kept his eyes on his tea as he spoke.

'James and Sirius figured out what I was early. I do not know precisely when; it may have been as soon as our first year at the school. They confronted me in November of our second year with their deductions, just after a cycle. I was still in hospital wing recovering. They'd already told Peter by then, and he was with them. I was ashamed and terrified; I thought they would abandon me… but they did not. I thought they would run from me; that they would be disgusted… but they were not. Instead, they comforted me.'

He paused, taking a deep gulp of the tea. Albus waited in silence.

'They had questions, naturally,' Remus continued. 'After I was released, they asked them. We had not studied werewolves yet in school… what they knew was mostly the sort that all wizarding children hear: the bump in the night tales that parents tell to keep their little ones in bed and out of trouble. Monsters of legend. Almost all true, of course,' he added bitterly. 'I told them what I could; and the truth. They had guessed Madam Pomfrey brought me out to the willow's entrance for my transformations – James and Sirius had tailed her one night under James' invisibility cloak and seen us disappear into the passage. I explained about the shack. Sirius was fascinated. He wanted to come – to watch. I shouted him down. I told him how… how it was, at least in those days. That I lost my mind entirely when I was transformed. That all I knew was the Wolf; that all I cared for was quenching the insatiable thirst for human blood. That I would kill him and bathe in his blood, should he come too near. Sirius was always reckless. He thought I was exaggerating. Until I showed him the scars.'

Minerva made a noise from her seat to his left, but Albus silenced her with a sideways glance. Remus was still staring at his tea. He ran the hand not gripping the cup up his opposite forearm, where Albus knew the layered result of decades of self-torture was thick upon the skin.

'Peter was sick when I showed them my chest,' he recalled quietly. 'Sick all over the bed. I'd always taken great care not to reveal them before: the ones Madam Pomfrey could not heal, and those I'd received before Hogwarts. Most werewolf bites cannot be cured, of course. Even less so in those days. The scarring is terrible. Peter vomited and Sirius was appalled… but James, he was angry.'

'I do not understand,' Minerva said, breaking her silence at last. Albus tried to glance at her again, but her attention was entirely on Remus. 'How did this lead to Black's becoming an Animagus?'

'I'm getting there,' Remus promised. 'It was… you have to understand how it happened, or you won't understand at all.'

'Please, continue,' Albus prompted before Minerva could reply. Remus cleared his throat and went on.

'James was angry,' he repeated. 'He wanted to know why I did that to myself. I explained as best I could. I could not keep my human control, not in that form, but I always remembered. When I became human again, I knew what I'd done in my transformation. I was separated from human prey… and so I preyed on myself. I destroyed the house as best I could, and when the hunger became unbearable, when I could not satisfy the need by wrecking furniture or ripping up carpeting, I tore at my own body.

'It was Peter, actually, who started us down the path that would lead to the Animagus transformation. He asked whether I had ever bitten a human. He looked so frightened… but I am happy to say it was one query I was, and am still, able to deny. I explained that I'd always been in isolation in my transformations, even as a child. Of course, it was easier then. Werewolves change according to their development, so as a small boy my parents could contain me even in my usual bedroom, so long as they locked the door and put unbreakable charms on the windows. As I grew, my father had to use more powerful enchantments, and the basement served better than an upstairs room. But by the time I reached Hogwarts age, even these measures were growing dangerously close to inadequate. My parents never spoke of it to me, not when I was so young… but I knew they were frightened. My father took endless draughts to keep himself awake through the whole of the cycle. My mother was a Muggle, and I think… well, I know he feared she could not protect herself, if her son loosed his manic rage on her while she slept.'

Remus shuddered. In any other moment – at any other time – Albus would have said something comforting. But tonight, he kept his silence. Tonight, he too was a man who feared the inadequacies of the precautions he had taken to protect his child.

'So I explained what you told us, sir,' Remus said, glancing up fleetingly at Albus' face for the first time. 'About how I could come to school after all… the measures you would take to ensure I would be kept safely away from others at the full moon. It was –' he swallowed thickly – 'It was the most amazing gift, sir. The chance to be here, at the castle. To be educated. To perhaps make friends… I had never been allowed, as a boy. It was too dangerous. Werewolves were feared, shunned, sometimes even attacked by other wizards – especially in those days, when already there were mounting rumours and fears of dark activity. My parents did not want to run the risk that I may let something slip to a playmate. We moved house almost every year… sometimes even more often, if neighbours had noticed something odd. They kept me at home and taught me there. They had no other children. Sometimes, I suspect watching over me was too great a responsibility to risk distraction with a new baby.

'Anyway, I told them almost everything. James didn't like the isolation. He was convinced – they were all convinced – that the transformation was harder because I was alone: that I would not be so deranged, so destructive, if I wasn't stuck in a house on my own. "Wolves are pack animals," I remember Sirius said. He'd dug an old book on werewolves out of the library and shoved it under my nose. "You need a pack, Remus. That's why you're going mad – shut up in there by yourself. You need a pack… and you need to run." I laughed at first.'

Remus smiled, though his eyes were sad.

'I told him it was impossible. I could not be controlled, in wolf form – not by myself or by others. To risk coming near me would be suicidal. Werewolves are equally dangerous to total strangers and their own family; that we were friends would have made no difference to me. And that… that's when James came up with the scheme. "Werewolves are only a danger to humans," he pointed out. I didn't get it – not at first. But then he explained… they could become animals too. The could become Animagi. They could keep me company as animals, where they could not as humans.'

'They?' Minerva repeated. 'What do you mean they?'

Remus looked up at her. 'All three of them,' he confirmed. 'James, Sirius and Peter. It seemed a distant dream at first… and it took them the better part of three years. James and Sirius were both clever students, as you know. They were able to help Peter along. By the autumn of our fifth year, they had managed it – all of them. It was the greatest gesture of kindness anyone has ever done for me. I… I could not bring myself to betray that gift, even now. Even when I should have, months ago. Perhaps years.'

And Albus remembered what Remus had said, the day Harry's Patronus had soared out of the sky…

'You did not misspeak after all,' he noted, looking at Remus. 'Harry's Patronus was not just James' Patronus… it was James, in his Animagus form.'

Remus nodded. 'Yes,' he confirmed. 'We called him Prongs… you may have heard the nickname before. He was always a stag, though the antlers did not grow so large until we'd come of age. Peter was a rat. And Sirius… Sirius was a dog. A huge, black dog.'

'A dog?' Albus repeated, suddenly sharp. 'Like a Grim, perhaps?'

Remus' brow furrowed. 'Yes… I suppose,' he said slowly. 'If you didn't know… he was large enough, to be sure. Though not nearly as shaggy as the Grim is usually depicted. You have probably seen the shape in its Patronus form as well, in Sirius' case. Peter was never capable of the difficult spell.'

Albus exchanged a significant look with Minerva. She had her hands pressed to her mouth, her eyes huge behind their square spectacles. Remus glanced between them in confusion.

'What?' he asked. 'What is it?'

'Harry has been seeing a Grim for months,' Albus said. 'Ever since the summer, since the night he fled the Dursleys into Magnolia Crescent. Severus saw it too… it attacked them in the street. Harry thinks it was in the forest, a few weeks later in some meadow where he was gathering valerian. And it appeared again at the first Quidditch match, in the top row of seats. I thought he was merely implanting the memory of the dog from the street in his mind's eye, conflating images that frightened him. But I rather think, in light of this information…'

'It's been him,' Remus finished in a whisper. 'It's been Sirius, the whole time.'

'Yes,' Albus agreed heavily. 'And, I rather think, we have solved the hole in our extensive wards.'

Remus put his head in his hands. 'I should have come forward sooner,' he groaned into his palms. 'All year… I have been telling myself he was entering the castle another way; that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it. And he knows… he must know. Sirius has always understood me. He gambled that I would hold my tongue; knew that I would not wish to reveal the secret, would not want you to know we had betrayed your trust as children… even now, when I have long since come of age.'

'You should have come forward years ago!' Minerva spat viciously. She had taken her hands from her mouth now, and her lips were so thin they were nearly disappeared. 'How could you be so careless, Remus? Your foolishness might have cost us all – might have cost Harry's life!'

'I know,' Remus said, his shoulders hunched. 'I know, Minerva. There is no forgiveness for what I have done and I would not ask it. If I had not seen Harry tonight… had not been talking to him about Black and warring with my own conscience once again… But I had to tell you, now. I am worried for Harry. He seems to think there is a possibility that Black is not out to kill him. He is torn between blind anger and confusion, wondering why Black has stalled both times that they have –'

'More than that,' Albus added softly. Remus broke off. Both he and Minerva whipped round to stare at him. Albus rested his fingertips beneath his chin, thinking hard.

'If what you have said, and what we have conjectured, is indeed true,' he explained, 'Then Sirius Black has been face to face with Harry more than just the two incidents we have previously considered. I do not know how he has been entering the castle –'

'There is more, headmaster,' Remus interrupted. 'There is something else. A passage – near my chambers. It is through that statue of the one-eyed witch, and leads from the castle into the cellar of Honeydukes. Black is aware of its –'

But Albus held up a hand to forestall the commentary. 'It matters not,' he said. 'There could be five hundred secret passages in and out of this castle, but the ward would block them all, known or unknown. No, I think the Animagus transformation is the key to the puzzle there. Black has been entering in a non-human form, thereby confusing the wards entirely. An ordinary transfiguration could not have accomplished it, but an Animagus form…'

'It would alter the magical signature,' Minerva finished. 'Not entirely, but enough to confuse the ward. It is a fundamental shift in magical anatomy.'

'Precisely,' Albus agreed. 'Now that we are aware of the circumstances, we can take the appropriate measures to counter the breach.'

'Headmaster,' Remus said, turning a devastated face toward him. 'I apologise. I am… I am so sorry that I did not come forward sooner; that I betrayed your trust. I swear I have not had a hand in assisting Black in any way… but I fear my silence may be to blame all the same. And I will understand entirely should you wish for my resignation.'

'Why?' Minerva asked, before Albus could respond. 'Why would you hold your tongue so long, Remus?'

The man swallowed hard. 'I… I do not have a good answer,' he admitted. 'I have rationalised it a hundred times over, managed to convince myself my silence was not the cause of Black's ability to enter the school. When we were young it was easier… and even then I had scruples. But they were my friends, and they had done this for me. It was an act of love and trust, and I could not betray that even if it pained my conscience. And then, we were at war. Then James and Lily were dead; Peter was dead; Sirius was imprisoned… and by then it seemed pointless to reveal the secret. I could not bring myself to admit we had betrayed your trust; forgone all the precautions you placed to ensure I could come to school at all. And that has only grown more powerful, that guilt. For you have employed me as an adult, provided me with a supply of the expensive potion that allows me to keep my mind during those horrible transformations. To admit that I'd taken advantage – that we all had betrayed your kindness and your love… I could not stand it. I did not want to watch your face as you learned what a monster I truly have become.'

Albus hesitated a moment, resting his chin on his fingertips. Minerva and Remus were silent.

'Remus,' he said at last, 'I will not pretend that this was not a grave breach of my trust. I will not condone what I think you know was a gamble of the highest order, that easily could have cost Harry or any of our other students their lives.'

Remus seemed to sink down in his chair as the headmaster spoke. Minerva was stiff as stone in hers.

'However,' he went on, 'I do not believe that allowing your resignation would solve anything. We cannot unwind the past, and despite your miscalculations I do not doubt your intentions or your loyalties. And, most importantly, I still feel as I did this summer – that your presence and your skill are assets to the school, our students and our cause.'

'I… thank you, Albus,' Remus muttered quietly. 'I swear – I will do whatever I can to right this situation; whatever you need.'

'Someone needs to tell Harry,' Minerva said, shaking herself a bit in her seat. 'Unless you have already…?'

'No,' said Remus. 'I saw him tonight, for his anti-Dementor lesson. Our conversation was what led me to rethink this… but I did not tell him.'

'I will handle it,' Albus said firmly. 'As for what happens next, I need to think on it. Please do not speak of this to anyone else in the meantime.'

Remus bowed his head in acknowledgement then took to his feet again. He muttered an awkward goodbye, and swept out of the office. Albus stood from his own chair as the door swung shut.

'Animagi,' Minerva said disbelievingly as they climbed the stairs. 'Three unregistered, underage Animagi at Hogwarts… how did we not notice, Albus? And how lucky did they get: unsupervised Animagus training might have had terrible consequences, perhaps even fatal. I would not have thought it possible – particularly in Pettigrew's case.'

'An impressive feat,' Albus agreed, pushing open the door to the grand bedchamber again. 'Not least of which was keeping it from me.'

Minerva huffed.

'And from you, love,' Albus added with a twinkle.

'I suppose it is too late to call for Fudge tonight,' Minerva mused as they climbed back into bed. 'Will you ask him here in the morning, or go to London? It is obviously not a conversation best had over Floo… and I don't know how you will leave Remus out of the telling, but –'

'No,' said Albus quietly. Minerva flipped over to stare at him.

'No what?' she asked, bewildered.

'No, I do not intend to tell Cornelius,' Albus clarified. 'At least… not immediately.'

'Why ever wouldn't you, Albus?' Minerva asked sharply. She pushed herself up against the headboard, her eyes boring into his.

'Because,' Albus answered, 'I am not yet sure of the implications myself.'

'The implications?' Minerva repeated sarcastically. 'Albus, you do realise this means that dog that attacked Severus in Magnolia Crescent was Black, the one who attempted to rip his leg to shreds? He could have killed Harry then, for Merlin's sake. He's been sneaking about the grounds unchecked. And the Dementors… they do not sense animal emotion the way they do human, you know that. He will be a hundred times more difficult to track. You must tell the Minister at once!'

'All true, my dear,' Albus acknowledged. 'But yet… do you not find the pattern strange, now there are more pieces to consider? If Harry's account of Magnolia Crescent is accurate, Black was lurking in the shadows long before Severus' arrival on the scene. He did not injure him; did not even approach until Severus attempted to take Harry away. Harry has seen him in the forest and grounds, without consequence. The only time they encountered each other with Black in his human form, prior to the events of the week-end, Black failed to kill him; did not even attempt it. Harry was injured only by Severus' stray curse. And Black left his wand… that has always puzzled me. He could have taken it, could have turned it on him, while Harry and Severus were both unconscious. But he did not. And then, there was Saturday…'

'Where Harry ended up needing four Blood Replenishing potions!' Minerva hissed. 'We were lucky he did not flay him alive!'

'Were we?' Albus mused. 'I am not so sure… once, perhaps, would be coincidence. But three times, if not more… if Black's intention is to kill Harry, I would say it cannot be his primary goal.'

'If his intention is to kill him?' Minerva repeated doubtfully. 'If Albus? How can there be any other explanation, after what he did to James and Lily?!'

Albus leaned over to douse the candle before he answered. He settled back beneath the crimson blankets, pulling her reluctantly to his side.

'That, my love,' he said quietly at last, 'Is the question I would like to answer before I speak with the Minister.'

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Harry received a note over breakfast on Thursday morning, informing him that he had been excused thirty minutes early from his final lesson of the afternoon – History of Magic. The letter said only that he was to meet Minerva in the entrance hall at that time, and to bring his cloak. Bewildered, Harry tried to catch the professor at Transfiguration to ask the meaning of the missive… but Hermione had to duck into the loo after Arithmancy, cutting their timing too fine with the Time-Turner to speak with McGonagall before the lesson. The mad dash for luncheon at the break waylaid his hopes of catching her at the conclusion.

The Time-Turner, Harry thought, was starting to become a real problem. Ron was highly suspicious of Hermione's full timetable, particularly since they'd all become friendly again and he no longer had Scabbers' plight to distract him in the evenings. He had taken to grilling Harry when they'd finished their own work, coming up with wilder and wilder ideas about how she might be attending her lessons. Harry grunted and mumbled at the right places, but he always felt a squirming in his stomach at these conversations. He did not like keeping the Time-Turner from Ron. Although Ron hadn't yet asked Harry about his own Arithmancy scheduling, Harry knew it was only a matter of time before it clicked with his mate that Harry, too, was hiding something. He was fairly certain Ron would not be happy he'd been left out of the secret.

His worries over Ron, however, were nothing to his mounting concern for Hermione. The stress he'd started to notice around the holidays had only grown worse in the weeks since. Frankly, Hermione was starting to bear a distinct resemblance to Remus. She was pale and peaky looking. Her eyes were dimmer, with dark rings beneath them and a glazed, wild sort of appearance that grew tearful in the late hours of the evening. She snapped at anyone who disturbed her work table in the common room or library. And, twice this week, Harry had caught her swapping out her tea for coffee at breakfast in the Great Hall. He had suggested, rather half-heartedly, that she drop a few subjects to lighten her workload. The resultant glare looked more like a basilisk's stare… and Harry had not raised the idea again.

Now, Hermione was talking about skipping the next Hogsmeade visit this upcoming Saturday, hoping to get a bit more work done while the Tower was quieter. Though Harry would be grateful for the company, he rather thought some time out of doors and away from her books would be a better use of Hermione's Saturday. And after all, even if Hermione left, Harry would always have Neville. Poor Neville was banned from all Hogsmeade week-ends for the foreseeable future.

Beyond his concerns for Hermione, his worries over Ron's suspicions and the interaction with Remus the previous night that was still preying on his mind, Harry was also having to dodge Fred and George in the corridors and Great Hall at regular intervals. The excitement of Sirius Black's break-in had at last started to fade from some of the Gryffindor memories, after so many harrowing retellings… but the result was a renewal of Fred and George's interest in Harry's affections for Cho Chang. Last evening, Fred had offered Angelina Johnson's services so that Harry could practise his chat (to her great displeasure and Katie and Alicia's fits of giggles). This morning, the twins had turned up for breakfast with fistfuls of drafted love letters for Harry's appraisal. And after Charms, George had popped round with the first two stanzas of a poem he thought Harry might like to recite at supper. Everyone else thought it was hilarious… but the ribbing only made Harry both angry and highly uncomfortable. He was eternally grateful Cho Chang was in neither his House nor his form, and therefore hopefully would not get wind of the twins' determined plotting.

By the time he was due to meet Minerva, Harry had nearly forgotten the appointment in the wake of everything else. It wasn't until Hermione elbowed him sharply to shake him from his usual History of Magic stupor and jerked her head toward the clock above the blackboard that Harry realised he was almost late.

He scrambled out of his seat at once, not bothering to take his leave from the oblivious ghost professor as he hurried for the door and dashed down to the entrance hall. He skittered to a halt two feet from Minerva, clutching a stitch in his side. She raised a supercilious eyebrow.

'Cloak?' she prompted. Harry noted she was already wearing hers, in addition to a high, emerald green pointed hat.

'It's in – in here,' Harry gasped out, rummaging in his school bag as he caught his breath.

Minerva tsked, taking the bag from him. She rescued the crumpled cloak and shook it out, running a spell over the fabric to remove the wrinkles. She passed Harry back the cloak and banished the rest of his school things, presumably back to the Tower.

'Come along,' she said once he'd done up the fastenings.

Harry followed obediently as she led them out of the school and down the stone steps.

'Er – where are we going?' he asked as they reached the winding path. He couldn't help but find the situation odd. He had not seen the headmaster once since breakfast, and Minerva's terse note and stiff manner tonight gave him the distinct feeling that something was off. 'Have I done something?'

She turned toward him, giving him a small smile that did not quite reach her eyes. She did not pause in her stride. 'No, you've done nothing wrong,' she assured him. 'We are merely running tight for time, and there is a conversation the headmaster and I need to have with you. We thought we might visit with Aberforth, for a treat. Albus is there already. The curfews still in place in the village make the journey unwise after night has begun to fall.'

Harry glanced around nervously. Already, the sun hung quite low in the sky. He realised now why Minerva had excused him from the end of his final lesson.

'Do not worry,' she added more gently, recognising his unease. 'We shall be flooing for the return journey, but I thought a bit of a walk might do us some good.'

They did not speak much for the remainder of the journey. Harry could tell there was something wrong with Minerva – something she had not yet shared – but he had too much in his own mind to press her about it. Instead, he tried to focus on the prospect of seeing Aberforth and having dinner in the pub, something they had not done together since Boxing Day. Perhaps he could convince the barman to come up to the castle for the Quidditch final… he hadn't yet seen Harry fly, after all. He ought to ask the headmaster to re-invite Bathilda Bagshot too; she had said in October she wanted to come. Perhaps she and Aberforth could sit together, as they were already familiar. The match ought to be a good one, as Gryffindors' victory last week-end put them back in contention for the Cup.

'There he is!'

The barman's booming voice bellowed the greeting before Harry had even pushed the door fully ajar. The pub was empty this evening: Harry suspected Albus had requested the privacy. The headmaster himself was sitting on a stool at a corner of the bar, across from his brother. He stepped gracefully off it as Harry and Minerva entered the room, while Aberforth shuffled around the counter to kiss Minerva on the cheek and clap Harry on the shoulder. Harry noted a half-full glass of some purple liquid on the counter behind… it looked as though Albus had already been visiting for a time.

The barman's greeting was overly cheerful, and he gave none of his usual griping about his brother's high-handed closing down of his pub. Albus' smile – like Minerva's – seemed slightly fixed.

Alarm bells were ringing in Harry's head again.

'Fixed up some Yorkshire pudding for supper,' Aberforth said after he had showed the party toward a booth and fetched a round of drinks.

'My favourite!' said Harry enthusiastically.

Aberforth winked at him. 'So I've heard,' he admitted. He passed out the glasses and bottles. 'Albus has been telling me you played a good match last week-end, boy,' he said to Harry.

Harry grinned, but shrugged modestly. 'The team had a good match,' he said. 'I was thinking – you ought to come up for the final in the spring… if you want to, I mean,' he added quickly. 'Gryffindor versus Slytherin – last match of the season. Might be able to watch us win the Cup if we're lucky.'

'A wonderful idea,' Minerva said approvingly. 'There's always room in our box, Aberforth. We'd love to have you.'

'Do not feel obliged,' Albus put in – but Harry could tell he was jesting.

'And miss watching Snape's face if the boy here beats his House?' Aberforth retorted to his brother in mock horror. 'I wouldn't miss it for a thousand galleons.'

Harry beamed at him. Out of the corner of his eye, however, he saw Minerva and Albus having silent conversation across the table… not unlike the way Ron and Hermione sometimes did when they were scheming about him. His smile faded.

'What?' he asked, looking between the two. 'What is it you wanted to speak with me about?'

Albus looked briefly at Aberforth, who gave him a tiny nod. The barman slipped off his stool. 'I'll just… go and see how that supper's getting on,' he muttered.

He clapped Harry briefly on the shoulder again and shuffled back toward the counter, disappearing through a swinging door into what Harry assumed was a kitchen. When Aberforth's back had gone from view, Albus cleared his throat. Harry spun to face him.

'Harry,' the headmaster began seriously. 'There is something we must tell you…'

Two and a half hours later, as Harry pushed the portrait hole open, he thought he may need to borrow Albus' Pensieve to deal with the onslaught of information and churning thoughts clogging his brain. He ignored the other students in the common room, even Ron and Hermione. He dodged Fred and George as they tried to waylay him at the stairs again. Instead, he climbed up the spiralling steps, pulling his curtains shut and sitting on his bed in the darkness.

Sirius Black was the dog… he was the Grim…

He wasn't even that angry with Remus for not telling him sooner, though he could see Minerva and Albus were annoyed with the professor. He was actually grateful to understand, now, why his father's stag mesmerised the man so deeply. And he respected why Remus had kept the secret – for his friends… out of loyalty. Harry would have done the same for Ron and Hermione. Of course, he knew that the information was vital – that it might help them catch Black. But Remus had not known that Harry had seen the dog. Remus did not know that Harry dreamt about him; that he had memories of Black, playing with him as a child…

He hadn't told the headmaster that part. He had been too stunned and had too many other questions. The Yorkshire pudding he'd so looked forward to had grown cold on his plate as he asked them.

Albus had told him that they would be altering the wards; that Black could not get into the castle again. But he also requested that Harry keep the information about Black's Animagus abilities to himself, for now. He did not yet intend to tell Fudge. The four of them, plus a few of the professors, would be the only ones informed for now. Which meant there was something the headmaster was not telling Harry. He'd tried to needle it out, but Dumbledore would not budge. He merely said that the new development altered things; that he wanted to do some additional investigation before informing the Ministry. He wanted Harry on his guard, in the meantime. But he'd agreed with Harry – he thought there was something odd in Black's behaviour toward him. That there might be more to the man's actions than what they –

'Oi, HARRY!'

Ron's voice was sharp, and loud enough that Harry suspected it was not the first time his name had been called. He jumped, just as his curtains flew open. Ron was frowning down at him through the gap.

'Are you alright, mate?' he asked, scrutinising Harry's face as he widened the gap in the curtains. 'You look odd…'

'I'm fine,' Harry said. He sat up a little straighter against the headboard, wishing more than anything that he could unload his burdens on Ron and Hermione – talk through it all with them. 'Just tired. We hiked all the way into the village tonight, to have supper with Aberforth.'

It was true, if not the whole of it. Ron did not look convinced.

'Not ill? Not dying? Haven't broken your leg? Sprouted smoking purple pox?' he pressed. His tone was not at all joking.

'No,' Harry answered, bewildered as he gave a short chuckle. 'What was that last one?'

'Just wondered,' Ron said with a shrug of his shoulders, 'Because Hermione says you were due at Snape's ten minutes ago, and I don't know why you'd chance an Unforgivable unless you were –'

'Bullocks!' Harry swore, jumping off the bed so quickly Ron had to leap backward out of the way. 'I completely forgot it's Thursday… he's gonna kill me!'

He hurried to shove on his trainers, ignoring Ron's stifled laughter as the latter leaned against his own bed. He grabbed the bag Minerva had helpfully banished to the top of his trunk earlier that evening, shucked the travelling cloak he was still wearing, and hurdled from the room.

'Fifteen minutes, Mr Potter,' Snape spat the moment Harry burst through the dungeon door. 'Thirty points from Gryffindor.'

'But – I, I thought it was a point a minute!' Harry gasped out, pushing his bag onto the work table.

Snape's eyes flashed. 'Fifteen points for your tardiness,' he said silkily. 'And fifteen for my wasted time.'

'That's the same thing,' Harry mumbled, digging out his wand from the pocket of his robes to hand to Snape.

The Potions Master did not hear… or perhaps chose to ignore the comment. He took Harry's wand with his usual glare, flourishing his own at the space in the centre of the room. Those damnable chests reappeared. Harry groaned… he was starting to fantasise about incinerating the stupid things wandlessly, rather than working on his locking abilities.

'Begin,' Snape said, gesturing toward the chests.

Harry scowled, but set to work. He broke his way through the six chests without feeling more than a light sweat. It was getting easier to do this every time, even with the more advanced unlocking charms. The locking, of course, was the trickier part for him. It always was. But tonight, Harry found all that confusion and anger he'd been feeling throughout the week was not affecting him as much as he might expect. Instead, he was finally able to focus the necessary energy, that same heady sense of fire building in him that he'd felt so many months ago in that stone room, when all he'd wanted was to break free and return to the inn.

He locked one, then two… three and four were a bit more difficult, but he managed them in the end. His hand was starting to shake, but Snape was not stopping him yet. Five… and then…

'Finished!' he gasped out, dropping his arm at last. He felt as though he'd run a marathon, but he was thrilled all the same.

Snape pushed him roughly into a chair, passing him the usual potions and a glass of water. Harry downed them all without comment.

'Finally,' Snape growled out, leaning himself against the edge of his own desk. 'You seem to be moving past mediocrity, at long last.'

The tone was insulting… but from Snape, it had almost been a compliment. Harry grinned. 'Guess so,' he quipped back, with just a bit of cheek. His heart was still hammering in his chest. Snape took his wrist as usual, and Harry saw his eyebrows contract as he felt the rapid pulse.

'You are still putting too much into the spell,' Snape criticised. He dropped Harry's arm again and passed him a second phial of potion. 'Precision, Potter. Not brute force. I feel I shall have a need to engrave the words on your tombstone.'

Harry scowled. 'At least I did it,' he countered bitterly. 'And I thought I wouldn't be able to, tonight. Not after finding out about Black and all.'

Snape stiffened, as he so often did when Sirius Black's name was mentioned in his presence. His glare intensified. 'Finding out what about Black, Potter?' he asked sharply.

Harry shuddered, forcing down the draught. He passed the empty phial back to the Potions Master. 'Just the Animagus thing,' he said, feeling a bit loopy from the second dose. 'Albus says I can't tell the others… not yet. I suppose it should scare me, and it does… but I'm also just glad that the Grim wasn't the Grim after all, you know? Stupid, I suppose. Sort of still an omen of death too, I –'

He broke off, looking at Snape. The professor was frozen, his hand still inches from Harry's with the empty phial clutched in white fingers. He wasn't even glaring. His eyes were glazed over, like he'd been hit with a spell.

'Sorry, sir,' said Harry quickly. 'I guess I shouldn't have brought it up. You're probably angrier than even Minerva was, the way he attacked you in the street like that.'

There was a tinkling of broken glass. Snape had dropped the phial. Before Harry could even register this, however, Snape's hands were gripping both his shoulders – hard. The professor began to shake him so roughly he could feel his teeth rattle. He made a noise of protest that Snape did not acknowledge.

'Who?' Snape demanded in a low hiss. 'Explain what you are talking about this instant, Potter!'

'Let go of me and I will!' Harry retorted, truly frightened as the man's fingers dug into his arms.

Snape stopped shaking him, but he did not release his hold. Harry stared up into his fathomless eyes, both angry and confused.

'I didn't mean anything by it,' he said defensively. 'I wasn't having a go, or anything, sir. I just… Albus and Minerva only told me this evening, about Sirius Black being an Animagus. Albus says he won't tell Fudge yet, but I figured –'

'BLACK'S WHAT!?' Snape bellowed.

With his face so close to Harry's, spittle flecked on his glasses from the words. Harry cringed. 'I… didn't you know, sir?' he asked, a horrible weight sinking in his stomach.

Snape released him at last. He stepped back, looking murderous.

'You are dismissed, Potter,' he ground out. He swept over to the door, flinging it ajar and pointing a finger into the hall. 'Get out.'

Harry did not need telling twice. He scrambled out of the chair at once, swiping his bag off the floor and hurrying through the door.

He could hear the rush of the Floo even before it finished slamming shut behind him.

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'ALBUS!'

Severus threw himself out of the headmaster's fireplace, not even bothering to check the office was otherwise unoccupied before he let his rage full reign. The headmaster, luckily, was quite alone – seated at his ornate desk and perusing the Evening Prophet. He glanced over the top of the page with a mildly curious expression that served only to infuriate Severus further.

'Good evening, my dear boy,' Albus greeted lightly. He set the newspaper aside, motioning with one hand toward the opposite chair.

Severus ignored the invitation, as he was sure Albus knew he would.

'HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME?' he spat, striding toward the desk.

He slammed a palm on the surface hard enough to draw a tittering of protests from the portraits on the wall. Albus sighed, still the epitome of serenity. He held up a hand to silence the painted commentary.

'Severus, please sit.'

'I will NOT, Albus!' he snarled. 'How long have you known, then? HOW did you know? And how on EARTH have you not informed the staff, the students and the Ministry? I have to find out from POTTER, like some gossiping dunderhead sharing stolen butterbeer?!'

'Severus, please,' Albus said, standing as well. 'I have known but less than a day. And I had planned to tell you this evening, after your lesson with Harry had concluded. It would seem he has beat me to the news.'

'An ANIMAGUS?!' Severus bellowed. He was still caught between blind anger and disbelief. 'HOW, Albus, without yours or Minerva's help? Black was neither patient nor intelligent enough for that sort of –'

'Now, though the former may be accurate, you know the latter is not,' Dumbledore disagreed. 'You and he were skilled in different areas, it is true. But Black was not untalented in the slightest. And you know the information must be true: black dogs have appeared quite often since July, have they not?'

Severus snorted derisively. 'How did you not know before?' he pressed instead. 'Are you telling me he taught himself the transformation, without an instructor? Because I know for certain there were no learned Animagi in the Dark Lord's circle who could have taught him the skill…'

'He was self-taught,' Albus confirmed. 'He, and James Potter and Peter Pettigrew, apparently. They were all Animagi by their fifth year at Hogwarts.'

'Potter was a –' Severus began hotly. But he paused as the realisation sank in…

'THE WOLF TOLD YOU!' he accused, voice raising again. 'The WOLF! How long have I been saying not to trust him, headmaster? HOW LONG?! He hides this information, steals Black into the castle… and you sit here and act as though –'

'Enough, Severus!' the headmaster said. For the first time, there was a steeliness in his voice. 'Do not suggest, ever, that I do not place the safety of my students and my school above all else. Remus has not been helping Black enter this castle, though I freely admit he unwisely kept the secret of his friends' abilities until this past evening.'

'And why tell you now, Albus?' Severus challenged. It was difficult to keep his voice below screaming. 'If he was not aiding the murderous traitor, why keep his silence for so many months? Perhaps he thought he had no choice but to reveal as much, after the break-in on Saturday. Perhaps he grew anxious you would be too suspicious… that he must offer something, before you came to the conclusion on your own in researching the possible failings of the wards…'

'I trust Remus Lupin as I trust you, Severus,' the headmaster said. 'And the both of you have done things, in the past, for which I have extended my understanding and my forgiveness.'

Severus ground his teeth. He knew it was a losing battle, arguing the point with the headmaster… but he was fighting the impulse to pound the wolf's door down and curse him into oblivion all the same.

'Sit,' Albus said again. There was less option in the request, this time.

Severus threw himself into the proffered chair with ill grace. The headmaster summoned two glasses of Ogden's finest, pushing one into his hand. Severus swallowed half in one pull.

'Potter says you are not informing the Ministry,' he noted when the whisky had finished burning down his throat.

'Not at the moment,' Albus confirmed.

'Why?' Severus demanded. 'While I am happy to lead the hunt for Black's hide myself, it seems less than prudent to leave the rest of the Wizarding World in peril.' A horrible thought occurred to him, and he narrowed his gaze. 'Or are you worried you will not be able to protect Lupin from the backlash?' he accused.

Albus' blue eyes flashed. 'If I thought informing Cornelius was the best thing to do,' he assured the professor, 'I would floo him immediately. However, there are pieces to this story which trouble me – parts that do not make sense. I wish to take the time to consider all the options before I involve the Ministry.'

'Options?' Severus repeated. There was a growing bile in his stomach that was quite unconnected with the whisky. 'What options, Albus?'

'I am… uncertain whether Black's true intentions are to murder Harry,' Albus said calmly. 'The evidence does not line up.'

'The evidence?' Severus parroted again in disbelief. 'Are you speaking of the time Black ripped my leg open trying to reach Potter in the street? The time he disarmed him in the Forest and would have killed him if I had not arrived? The day he slashed the portrait of the Fat Lady to shreds, perhaps? Or Saturday last, when he nearly slit the boy's throat as he slept?!'

'On the surface, all highly incriminating actions,' Albus agreed. 'And yet the odd delays in a fatal attack are as consistent as anything in the various encounters.'

The bile exploded.

'You cannot be saying, headmaster,' Severus spat viciously, 'That you believe there is even the most remote possibility that Sirius Black is an innocent man?!'

Albus touched the wood of his desk, not answering as he sipped at his whisky. Severus' grip was so hard on his own glass that he was fleetingly surprised it had not shattered. Perhaps the headmaster's crystal was spelled with Unbreakable Charms.

'I am not entirely sure what I think, Severus,' the old man said quietly. 'It does not seem likely… and yet, I cannot help but notice there have been too many failed opportunities for coincidence, now we know that Black has been close to Harry far more often than we had originally believed. I have been told that coincidence very rarely occurs in nature.'

Severus scoffed. 'Potter is Man of the Match in the Gryffindor contest for close shaves with death,' he sneered.

'Perhaps,' Albus agreed with a small, infuriating smile. 'But I wish to think on the matter for a bit longer before informing anyone else, Severus, all the same.'

'You are being played – fooled yet again, headmaster!' he said desperately, slamming the drink down on the desk between them. His hand was splashed in amber liquid and he heard an ominous crack.

He supposed there were no charms after all.

'Black pulled this same stunt twelve years ago!' he continued. 'He played the loyal lapdog, danced to the tune of your pipe, Albus. He lulled you all into contentment, made you feel you could trust him… and then he killed his two best friends and Lily. Whether the wolf is in on it now or not I do not know… but this is what Black would want you to do – to doubt in his treachery; to believe he is Good, and Light. And why not?' he challenged with a murderous glare. 'It has been working his whole life, after all. Playing the part of the Gryffindor… counting on your forgiveness and your trust… hoping you will save him from the punishment that HE IS DUE!'

'Severus, that is enough!' the headmaster insisted. He was standing again now, his eyes blazing behind their spectacles.

Severus did not sit, backing away from the desk with his fury still smarting. He strode back for the fireplace and helped himself to a fistful of the headmaster's floo powder. He did not trust himself not to curse the first person he encountered in the corridors, should he take the stairs.

'I will keep the silence you've asked of me,' he said tersely as he withdrew a sparkling fist, 'I will toe the line, and I will obey. But I will not be fooled, headmaster. I will not let him get away with this…'

'Severus, be rational,' Albus said in a softer tone. 'I have already updated the wards on the castle. We will take no chances, no matter what. I am not suggesting Black is innocent; I am merely pointing out that there are things to consider. Facts I wish to consider before involving the Ministry.'

Severus threw the powder into the flames.

'Consider what you will, Albus,' he said shortly. 'But do not imagine that the rest of us share your scruples in killing Sirius Black.'

He stepped into the flames before the headmaster could reply, vanishing back up the chimney.

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Spring had come to the forest. It wasn't yet warm… but the closer April drew the greener the trees became. Sirius watched the birth of new life with apathy. It had been more than six weeks now. Six weeks since his near disastrous excursion into Gryffindor Tower. Six weeks, and he was no closer to the Rat.

He knew from the cat that Peter had fled. Faked his death as he had before. A clever trick, if a signature one. He was in the wind… yet Sirius did not leave the outskirts of the castle grounds. He knew the Rat would not go far. He could not. He was safest close to Dumbledore: hiding in the shadows of the Dementors and the teachers… even with Sirius on the prowl. Peter had never been brave. He was never truly a Gryffindor. And he had nowhere else to go, now. His mother had died several years ago. Sirius had heard it over a Wizarding Wireless through Hagrid's window one night. Died of a broken heart, they'd said. Finding another wizarding family was no good, while Sirius was still hunting him. Peter was not made for the street life, and he would not last a week among the creatures of the forest. No… Wormtail would want to be where he could keep an ear out. And he would want to be close to Harry; would want the opportunity to ingratiate himself to the Dark side again, if he knew they would protect him. Harry was his only chance to do that. Hogwarts was his only chance.

Plus, the cat had scented him more than once in the grass and in the corridors of the school. He was here, skulking about like a phantom. Capable of taking Harry – killing him, or running with him. Taking him to Voldemort. And Sirius was out of ideas.

He was so lost in his musings that he did not sense the new arrival's approach… until a crack of a twig gave his position away.

Startled from his musings, Sirius jerked his head off the ground. He tensed, wondering whether to flee or stay hidden in his hollow as he gazed about for the source of the disturbance. The forest was gleaming with the smattering of setting sunlight through the trees, but Sirius could see neither being nor creature standing where the twig had broken. He half rose to his feet, the prickling on his spine intensifying… then froze as a muttered spell reached his ears.

A hand appeared out of nothingness, sweeping down from more than six feet off the ground. The Disillusionment spell was lifted, and Sirius' heart jumped to his throat; all thoughts of running for escape dispelled as completely as his visitor's charm.

The man's eyes were locked with his, and there was recognition and finality in the gaze.

'I have been searching for you every evening, for more than a month,' the man said. 'It is rather a larger forest than I remembered. But of course, I suspect you know it better even than myself. It is hardly surprising it would take me this long to track you without magical aide. And I did not wish to set off any alarms.'

He drew his wand as his spoke, fingering the intricate handle. Sirius' eyes flicked to the weapon for the briefest of moments, then back to the man's face. He took a half-crouched step back.

'There is no point in running,' the man said lightly. 'I could stop you, of course, if you force me to do so… but I would regret the action. I did not come tonight with the intention of cursing you.'

Sirius stopped his retreat. The man, on the other hand, took several long, slow strides toward him.

'I would ask that you resume your usual form,' the man said politely. 'It is rather difficult to carry on a conversation with a dog, and I dare say there is much we must say to one another, Sirius.'

Sirius stared for several more seconds into the man's face. Quite possibly the most dangerous man in the world. Then he bowed his head, letting the transformation take him. When he opened his eyes again, the distance to those blue eyes was mere inches.

'Dumbledore,' he breathed out in a rasp.

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Review Responses, Chapter 35

BlueWater5: Thank you for your review! Glad you approve of Remus' confession. Yes, I agree it's about time he came clean… and that confession will have numerous repercussions now. And Harry isn't letting him off scot-free with the reprimand here, he's definitely miffed that Remus is playing a bit of a double standard here. Remus, like all of our characters, is flawed. And though much of this chapter is from his point of view, it would be (as I pointed out a few weeks back on my profile page), a mistake to think that just because something is stated in his POV section it is necessarily true on its face. I think you're right to point out here that though his goal may be to protect Harry, his own varying interests have presented obstacles to that protection. It is a flaw which Pettigrew has exploited, among others. And I think Remus is just now beginning to sort of see that.

Enjoy Chapter 36!

Sopnew: Thanks for the review and the well wishes! They are incredible, it's such a joy to get to be with them. James has taken off a fortnight as well… so I am sure I'll feel a bit differently when I'm on my own for four weeks until nanny arrives! :) No more mums though, so that's a treat. Anyway, glad you enjoyed the chapter! Remus is a fun character, so it was nice to be in his head for a bit instead of our usual suspects. I hope you like Chapter 36!

Belial666: Thanks for reviewing! Yes, as I stated to another reviewer above and on my profile page, it would certainly be a mistake to take any one character's POV as the 'truth' in any measure but that which the particular character might believe. Here, as you correctly noted, Remus is not entirely correct on his musing to Harry about who can and who cannot cast a Patronus. Although he is correct that Death Eaters cannot cast it – with the exception of Snape, who's loyalties are obviously different and who's casting of a Patronus we will explore in more detail later in the series. That bit is per JKR herself. As to the ability of other… shall we say not 'light' wizards to cast the spell… it's not quite as black and white as Remus painted here. We will revisit the issue later in the books.

Hope you like Chapter 36!

AlsoKnownAsMatt: Thank you for the review and the well wishes! It was a monumental journey, but it's lovely to have reached the other side at last. I'm happy to hear you liked the flashback… it's a scene I've wanted to explore for a while, though I didn't decide until quite late to slip it in here. It felt like a good moment to explore the extent of Remus' inner turmoil; and I hope that the 1981 scenes brought across the utter broken man that he became in the wake of all that happened. The map scene… glad you liked the changes to canon here. I agree that Harry gets off a bit easy; but of course, there were longer-goal reasons why Dumbledore could not be made aware of the map at this time, though perhaps that would have been the wiser move from a strictly disciplinarian side. Remus tries to walk a bit of a line between kindly uncle and professor in Harry's life, and at times that line can become a bit blurred.

Hope you enjoy Chapter 36!

Anyeshabaner: Thanks for your review! Yes… the cat's among the pixies now, as they say. Remus has caved to his conscience. We'll get the details of what exactly he reveals to the headmaster in this next chapter… but the really interesting question is: what will Dumbledore do now?

Hope you like the next chapter!

SailorMartin3: Thank you! I hope you are enjoying the story!

Valkyrie-Sythe: Thanks for your review! Yes, the secret is out now… what will Dumbledore do? We shall see… just a few more chapters to go, now. Hope you enjoy the continuation!

Guest: Thank you! Glad you are enjoying the story and I hope you like the new instalment!

Jasper's Mom: Thank you! Seven has always been my lucky number, so I am quite excited there are so many sevens associated with the twins' birthdays! :) It's odd how sometimes things just work out like that. Yes, poor Harry lost the map – which is probably a good thing, from an adult perspective… I hope you like Chapter 36!