Chapter 5. A Black Situation
Cornelius Fudge continued to bluster. Sirius sighed and stretched his cramped legs, wishing the meeting would be over soon. He must have been here for at least three hours now, he thought irritably, ignoring the hunger which had suddenly risen in his stomach. With a sigh, he pulled a rather hard boot belonging to Kingsley Shacklebolt from under him, then stretched out and lay down. It would be better for him and everyone else if he just went to sleep now. If he had to listen to Cornelius Oswald Fudge again, he would end up doing something reckless and regretting it later.
As he lay staring at the ceiling of the cupboard in which his father had kept his huge collection of boots, Sirius smiled sourly hearing Albus Dumbledore chuckle at the stupidity of the Minister for Magic. He longed to watch the man suffer for everything he had done to the vulnerable people he was supposed to be protecting. Images of what would become of the Minister when he encountered the various security spells his parents had placed around the house flashed before his eyes. "Bring it on!" he thought savagely, then stopped himself. If anyone knew what he was thinking, the consequences would be terrible, for him and for Harry. Hastily he tried to recall the parting words of his cousin before she had vanished. "Anger is a poison which will stop your heart faster than any spell or potion. Avoid it or it will kill you and everything you hold dear." He must control his rising temper. He must think of something else, quickly.
His mind travelled back to Harry, his beloved godson. How was he, he wondered. Where was he? Sirius hoped this year at Hogwarts was proving to be better than the last. A slight grin tugged at his exhausted facial muscles as it occurred to him that he was relying on almost the same advice as he had given Harry. Now, as he lay in a shoe cupboard, waiting for the latest meeting between Dumbledore's supporters, who called themselves the Order of the Phoenix, and the Ministry of Magic to finish, he fully appreciated how hard it must have been for Harry to follow that instruction. If he knew there was a war on, he would be desperate to do his bit to help.
At last he heard the door being unlocked and his stomach clenched with dull dread. Now he would have to face another day of imprisonment and pain. He thought almost longingly of Azkaban. At least the Dementors had been easy to deal with because he had been able to resist their power simply by remembering he was innocent. This was worse, far worse.
A dark shape stood in the doorway. Sirius squinted at it, wishing he had his wand. He noticed that the mysterious person was very well-dressed, considering there was a war on. Beads and bangles glittered at the figure's wrists and throat and its body was very thin, but elegant. It must be a woman, he realised. It was too thin to be Professor McGonagal or Professor Sinstra.
The faint smell of herbs exuded from her. Realising it was Professor Trelawney, Sirius bit his lip and repressed a shiver as memories he had blocked from his mind since escaping Azkaban threatened to engulf him. He must not let her see his fear. If he did, she would certainly use it against him.
"Good afternoon Black," began Professor Trelawney in her usual mystical tones. Sirius merely nodded in acknowledgement. He was not about to let himself be drawn into conversation with her. The last time he had done that... He shook himself. He must not think about that. He was older now and wiser, wasn't he?
Sirius shifted on the bed. How long had he slept for, he wondered. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he gazed around the dark room, lit by a crimson lamp. Long red curtains covered the windows, so he could not see whether or not it was still daytime. As he tried to sit up, he realised he was still drowsy. Slowly his father's warnings about accepting drinks from strangers came back to him in his dazed state and he sighed. He should not have accepted the offer of a cup of tea earlier that day. His mother was right, he thought grimly. He was a goner.
The smell of herbs and some sort of heavy perfume mingled in the air, combining with the heat from the fire. Underneath him, the silk sheets felt tantalisingly soft after the hard, bare boards he had lain on in Azkaban and the pavements he had slept on since his escape. He longed to go back to sleep, but something stopped him. He had to leave this place and find his teacher, friend and master. Where was the woman who had led him here? She had to be here somewhere.
"Sirius?" The soft voice of the woman who had led him here floated to his ears, seeming to come from the flames as they danced, enthralling him, entrancing him. "I am here," he answered, hardly aware that he was speaking. In his ears, he heard the roar of the fire, like the lion of Gryffindor, which had devoured so many defenceless creatures, the drumming of his own heart and her thin voice calling gently. "Sirius?"
A hand began stroking his hair. Embarrassment filled him as he tried to remember how long it had been since he had washed his long matted hair. What must this woman think of him? He raised his eyes to her face, wanting to apologise for the state he was in, but unable to muster the energy to speak.
"Be still," intoned the silky voice from above him. "Clear your mind. Here, in this secret room, my inner sanctum, you are safe. I am a seer, but not a judge." The hand crept lower and began rubbing his neck and shoulders. Feeling his strength leave him, he stopped trying to sit up and stared, unseeing, at the face of the mysterious woman.
After several moments, the massaging stopped. Sirius heard a slight rustle of cloth, then felt someone else on the mattress. Opening his eyes, which he had closed after she had told him to clear his mind, he saw her at last. She was tall and very thin with enormous dark eyes, which were magnified to at least twice their normal size. Numerous beads hung around her neck and her arms were encrusted with bracelets and amulets. A vast number of rings glittered on her fingers. Her long black hair flowed like a veil down her back and over one side of her face, enhancing, Sirius thought, the mysterious air about her.
"Sybil?" he murmured hoarsely. He felt her move until she was lying beside him. "You are ready now?" she asked, taking his hand in hers. Sirius sighed, nodded and let his face relax into a smile. He loved her voice. It was so soothing, yet so full of mysterious power that to hear it sent shivers down his spine.
He was sure she smiled, though he could not see her face in the darkness. Turning his hand so that his palm faced upwards, she began tracing the lines with a spindly finger. Sirius waited, feeling her warm breath, which smelled of coriander and turmeric, ruffling the stubble on his cheek gently. His own breath caught in his throat. He longed for her words, but did not dare to break the silence, which seemed to vibrate with a magic far stronger than anything ever taught at Hogwarts.
Sirius wrenched himself back to reality. That was in the past, where it belonged, to be learned from and forgotten. This woman standing before him was nothing to him. She was an enemy of his teacher, of true justice and those who fought for it. He could see her lips moving, but never heard her words. As she paused and reached out to him, he recoiled, his feelings shooting out at her in one terse word. "Traitor!"
Professor Trelawney smiled. "If I am a traitor, then what are you?" she retorted calmly. "Considering we took you in and sheltered you after your very fortunate escape from Azkaban, your siding with our enemies makes you more of a traitor than I." She paused and pulled out her wand. "Choose your next words carefully," she said silkily. "Or just as you have felt my lips upon yours, you will one day feel the mouthparts of a Dementor upon them." Sirius shivered, remembering the icy touch of a Dementor's hands prising his slowly, almost lovingly, away from his mouth, which was clamped shut.
A searing pain through one of the scars on his back from his beatings in Azkaban jolted him back to the present. "Answer me," his betrayer was saying, her wand raised. "Will you renounce your allegiance to our enemies and fight for us? Consider your response carefully, Black. I do not wish to hurt you." Sirius glared at her. He would not allow himself to be led astray by her again. He would not abandon his master, family and friends. He would not give her the satisfaction of knowing how much she was hurting him.
"I won't fight for those who deny justice to the innocent," he retorted, using the quiet, calm tone of voice which had often frightened the Dementors. He kept his expression neutral as he spoke, trying to ignore the burning sensation spreading throughout his body. As the words left his lips, the pain intensified. He clenched his jaw, determined not to cry out or in any way let her know he was in pain.
Professor Trelawney sighed softly. "Why do you go on like this?" she breathed. "You are a brave, intelligent man. You are destined to do great things. I see this within you. Why then do you waste your energy pitting yourself against forces you cannot hope to overcome? Are you ashamed of your past? Your heritage? Your previous allegiance and actions? Clear your mind. Let go of this guilt. We will not judge you. Our leader requires unquestioning loyalty and obedience, but not an untainted ancestry. Clear your mind. Give up these absurd notions and let us begin afresh." Her eyes were fixed on his as she stepped towards him, entrancing him, enticing him.
Sirius averted his eyes from hers. "Don't listen," he told himself firmly as the invisible chains binding him in place rubbed painfully against his sore and bleeding wrists, adding to the pain in the rest of his body. After all, these were his enemies, hypocrites, advocates for everything he fought against. He must not be deceived by their lies.
"I won't," he said as clearly as he could in his agony and hunger-induced weakness. "I've seen what you've done. I know what you're planning. Your words won't convince me. You've lied to me and the rest of the wizarding world for long enough." He stared into her enlarged eyes, waiting. In a few moments, he was sure, she would crack. After all, one encounter with Dolores Jane Umbridge had cracked her facade of confidence and resulted in her teaching career coming to a sudden end. Her expression was unfathomable. Sirius gritted his teeth and waited. If he couldn't watch Cornelius Fudge getting his comeuppance, to see the woman who had betrayed him crumble would be almost as good. Any minute now, he told himself, she would begin to tremble with terror or fury. Then her guard would drop. Perhaps she would attack him, but it would not matter. He could escape again, as he had before. She did not know about his Animagus transformation. Nor did her master, as far as he knew. Then, once he was out if this miserable place, he could rejoin his teacher and fight for peace. All he had to do was wait...
The silence was shorter than he had expected. When Trelawney spoke again, her voice was as calm and ethereal as ever. This was a bad omen, thought Sirius, who had hoped she would be speechless. Far worse, however, were the words she eventually said. Those words would haunt Sirius Black until his dying day, something which the memories the Dementors had forced him to recall had never done.
"A pity you refused my offer," she breathed, taking one of his hands in hers. "I was about to give you a message concerning your godson, but if you would prefer not to know..." "What about Harry?" Sirius blurted out tensely. Professor Trelawney regarded him for several moments with a veiled expression. Then, her tone as serene as ever, she remarked, "You surprise me, Black. I thought your parents raised you to have better manners than this. Still, I cannot expect too much, what with their being..." "Just tell me where Harry is!" snarled Sirius, shaking slightly with anger and fear. Hastily, he tried to rein in his rising temper. He must exercise better self-control, he silently berated himself, thinking of his master. He must not let Trelawney manipulate him like this.
Running footsteps pounding down the hall made Trelawney suddenly turn, quickly dragging him back into the cupboard and locking the door behind her. Sirius heard her running into the hallway and a man's voice asking, "Is the Suzerain available?" "He is busy at the moment," replied Trelawney smoothly. The man began blustering almost as loudly as Cornelius Fudge and Sirius sighed with dread, hearing his tormentor retrace her footsteps to where she had left him.
As she hauled him out of the dingy and smelly cupboard, Sirius wrenched at his restraints, wanting to seize her in a vice-like grip, wrest his wand from her and incapacitate her as she had incapacitated him until she told him everything she knew concerning Harry. His struggling soon exhausted him and he collapsed at her feet, breathing heavily. Seeing a cruel smile touch her lips, he felt a surge of hatred towards this vile woman who had condemned him to the life of pain, fear, imprisonment and loneliness.
"Oh, Sirius," she breathed, reaching down and stroking his hair. "Who would have thought, unless possessed of the Inner Eye, that a man as mighty as you would fall so easily?" Sirius repressed a shudder as she gently caressed his cheek. "Just tell me where Harry is!" he snapped, his heart pounding. How could he have fallen in love with her, he silently raged at himself. She was his enemy, against everything he believed in, everything he worked for, stood for and valued. She had betrayed him and many others who, like himself, had trusted her. Seeing a smile spread slowly over her lips, he realised with dread that she knew exactly what he was thinking.
"I am sorry," she murmured, as though she really were sorry for everything he had suffered. "I live alone, so I cannot know what it is not to see your godson growing up." She paused here and laid a hand on his. Sirius tensed. "Don't lie!" he snarled. "Just tell me where Harry is or I'll..." "Such harsh, wild words!" Trelawney sighed. "I would not want to see you condemned to life in Azkaban, untameable and reckless as you are. Think what it would do to Harry! Has he not suffered enough?"
Sirius swallowed hard. He was trapped now. "Leave Harry out of this!" he wanted to say, but it would be worse than useless. He did not want to give her any more power over him and saying that would only show her what he was sure she already knew; that she had won. He must not do or say anything which might anger her, he told himself urgently. For Harry's sake, he must do as she wished, or at least appear to. He tried to avoid her gaze, so that she would not see his feelings in his eyes, but could not help glimpsing her smile of satisfaction. She knew.
"What exactly do you want from me?" he asked, playing for time. "You've got the Ministry on your side. I can't really do much to help you, as they've put a thousand-Galleon price on my head." Professor Trelawney smiled in the serene way Sirius knew so well, shaking her beautiful head as she did. "The Ministry are but tools, instruments to aid us in our cause," she laughed dismissively. "Our leader has only to give the order and all charges against you will be dropped. Then you can go out as and when you please. All we require is a simple assurance of your loyalty. Then you will be free and Harry will be safe."
She paused, her eyes on him. Sirius watched her face carefully, thinking quickly. He longed to see Harry safe and happy. He had not been able to fulfil his promise to Lily as Harry's godfather, having spent the best part of fifteen years in Azkaban for a crime he had not committed. Fond as he was of the Weasleys, it was not easy for him to watch Molly and Arthur acting as though Harry were their son. They were not in any way related to him. Anyway, they were in no way able to help Harry now, whereas he had a golden opportunity right now. All he had to do was promise to help the Order.
As he opened his mouth to make the promise which would change his and many others' lives, he stopped. The Order of the Phoenix had deceived him many times, subjected him to all manner of pain and incarcerated him in his parents' house. To make matters even worse, Dumbledore, who was hailed by many as the greatest wizard in the world and the finest headmaster Hogwarts had ever had, was doing nothing to stop the war which had torn wizardkind apart for centuries. There were rumours that some students at Hogwarts had been conscripted to fight in the war. Sirius hoped this wasn't true. Surely, he thought, even the Order of the Phoenix, questionable as their morals were, would never allow such a terrible thing to happen. They had, after all, looked him from Azkaban.
Then he remembered what Dumbledore had said that morning upon hearing that several members of the Swift Brigade, including Sergeant Diggory, Corporal Abbott and Captain Clearwater had been killed in battle. "Their deaths were a tragic accident, but sometimes, for the greater good, sacrifices must be made." Sirius was still shocked by these words. How could anyone with any knowledge of what was happening throughout the wizarding world dismiss those people's deaths in Tewksbury High Street as an accident? How could a man who claimed to be fighting for justice say that the deaths of so many people were for the greater good? If that was the extent to which he cared about his fellow wizards, Sirius was not going to side with him.
So he remained silent. In the darkness, he saw Trelawney's eyes glitter with gleeful anticipation, though her expression remained completely calm. "I suppose it is best that you do not know where the boy is," she shrugged after several moments. "After all," she added with another sadistic smile. "You will have plenty of love in your life. The Dementors will be so pleased to see you. Pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I dare say." Then, still smiling, she left the room, locking the door behind her. Sirius watched her go, his heart sinking with despair. He had failed Harry, he thought miserably. He must be stronger than this! Even his brother Regulus had been braver than this! Reaching out to his master with his mind, he let his feelings drift away in one thought. Forgive me, Master.