CaseLC: Thanks! I wasn't quite sure about making up so much extra stuff, glad it didn't sound too pretentious/outlandish. It'll take Harry some time to figure out Kracher, but he's definitely getting closer. *points at chapter title*
alix33: Truee point about the chocolate, sadly. How I wish magic was real...
Penelope Valentine: Thanks! :)
The Hunt for the Oompa-Loompa
Thursday, 12th of May
Wizards don't have cars, because they use other ways to travel, like broomsticks. This means that they don't need traffic lights...
Harry stopped writing, listlessly looking at the ink-splotched, far too short essay he had produced so far. After the shock from finding out Sirius' last name he had quickly retreated into his own room, not wanting to run into his godfather before he had figured out how to deal with it, and for lack of anything better to do he had started on the homework that Remus had set him.
But it was almost impossible to concentrate on whatever differences there were between the muggle and the wizard world when there were so many other questions swirling in his mind.
Sirius had grown up in this house, and the evil people that had lived here before had been his family.
But could they really be evil? Sirius wasn't evil.
But he seemed to despise them, if he hadn't even told Harry about it.
Or maybe he hadn't because he didn't want to talk about it? Maybe it made him sad?
Because if this is where his family had lived, where were they now?
He remembered the names on the tapestry, and the dates that had been on there. Dead. For a moment he felt sympathy for Sirius for having lost is parents as well, and his brother.
But there had been other people, people who seemed to be still alive. Did they live elsewhere? They had been on different branches; maybe they had their own houses. Uncle Vernon and Marge didn't live in the same place either.
Or maybe they're still here.
A chill ran down his spine when he remembered the Oompa-Loompa. Could the steps have come from one of the names on the tapestry?
Had he led Harry to Sirius' room on purpose? It was very likely, he now realized. The Oompa-Loompa had wanted him to find out the truth about Sirius. But why? And why hadn't he just come and told him? Maybe he was shy...
He took the chocolate frog.
Whoever the Oompa-Loompa was, he liked chocolate.
I could give him more, Harry mused, to thank him for letting me know. And maybe he'll show himself if I feed him enough...
Be an explorer.
Harry felt a grin flicker over his face as he put down the quill. Searching for the mysterious Oompa-Loompa was a lot nicer than wondering about Sirius.
"Reading a book at breakfast? I thought this was strictly newspaper realm?" Remus looked up to see his friend stroll into the kitchen, wearing a dressing gown that did not look like it had originally been designed for a male. It had a hole in one chest where a family crest had apparently been violently ripped out. The Animagus was running out of clothes after Remus had discovered that he did not actually know any cleaning spells and refused to do his laundry until he learned.
"I gave my Prophet to Harry, and figured I might as well get started on those pre-Azkaban reports."
Immediately, the grin dropped from Sirius' face. "Oh," he said, unenthusiastically grabbing a few slices of toast. "So where's Harry?"
"In his room, working. Listen, I think I found something that might help. There's a piece here about how people defended themselves from Dementors before the Patronus came about, and apparently a form of Occlumency was used. It might be worth looking into."
As expected, Sirius was not thrilled. "Occlumency? Isn't that for slimy little creeps like Snivellus?"
Remus – who knew the basics of Occlumency, but had never pursued it further – sighed. "No it's not. It's part of the Auror training, actually. Not everything Death Eaters do is automatically evil. Look, I'm not saying you become a Master in it" – he seriously doubted this was possible, given Sirius track record with patience – "But the whole principle of mental defence might be applicable. The other solution would be to have a Patronus around you at all times, and that's hardly practical, is it?"
Sirius frowned, and for a moment Remus honestly expected him to conjure his Patronus just to prove him wrong, but then his friend just slumped back in his chair with a sigh.
"Alright. Show me that mental crap."
Friday, 13th of May
The chocolate chip cookie that Harry had placed in front of Sirius' childhood door the night before was gone. There were crumps left – actually, they rather looked like a bite that had been half-eaten and then spit out again. Harry crouched down next to it, a little bit put off but still fascinated.
Maybe he only likes chocolate? It would make sense, if he's really an Oompa-Loompa.
But there were chocolate bits in the mix as well, so evidently the eater had not bothered to pick them out. Harry decided to get something completely different tomorrow, to test the chocolate hypothesis.
Before he left, he cast a short glance downstairs – it should be safe; Sirius was in the study fixing an old record player and Remus was making lunch – and then called out, as softly as possible: "Mr Oompa-Loompa? Are you there?"
There was no answer, even though he was almost certain there had been some shuffling when he had first come up here. But in truth he hadn't expected the Oompa-Loompa to show itself; it really was very shy.
"I'm glad you liked the cookie. I'll bring you something else tonight. Do you like Bertie Botts Beans? Remus gave me some for my geography lesson. They taste a bit funny sometimes but mostly they're nice."
He waited a few more moments but when no-one answered he reluctantly got to his feet.
"We'll find him yet," he promised Prongs, his trusted comrade.
"No, that wasn't it. You're too aggressive. This isn't a duel; attack is not the way forward. You have to stay calm; don't give your opponent an opening to exploit. Let's do this again."
Sirius groaned. "Oh, come on. We've been at this for hours. It's the weekend!"
"It's been an hour and forty-five minutes, and strictly speaking it's not the weekend yet. Look Padfoot, I know this is boring as hell, but you need to grasp the basics if this is to go anywhere."
"If even you call it boring, how do you think mere mortals can stomach it?" Sirius grumbled, rubbing his forehead. "I've changed my mind; I'm just gonna walk around with a Patronus for the rest of my life."
"No you're not. This is ridiculous; how did you guys ever manage to become Animagi? You must've done the theory at some point."
"That I actually cared about. This...I dunno, it's all so vague. I mean, I feel fine most of the time. And it's only been a few weeks, I'm sure this'll go away by itself. Let's just drop it for tonight, alright? I've still got to fix this bloody thing." He pointed towards the record player that lay abandoned on the coffee table.
Remus was not convinced at all, but he knew he had lost, at least for tonight. And maybe Sirius was right. He'd grown up in his own version of Azkaban, after all, and still come out of it mostly alright.
"Why don't you just buy a new one?" he asked instead, scrutinizing the battered old machine. It was muggle, although it had long stopped working without the help of magic. If Remus remembered correctly, Sirius had stolen it from muggle studies in their fourth year. "Usually you're the one who tells me not to bother fixing anything."
"Because what you're referring to are clothes that looked horrendous even when they were new, whereas this is an historic artefact. This-" Sirius caressed the tarnished metal tenderly, a gesture that Remus had only ever seen him apply to his motorbike, "is the player that first opened my ears to music. Real music."
Remus followed his eyes and discovered a box of old muggle records. He knew them all by heart, as James and Sirius had been just as enthusiastic in their choice of records as they had been limited. He groaned inwardly at the prospect of spending yet another evening with the ever-same album playing on a loop.
"I can't believe how those crooks treated it," Sirius continued, real hurt and anger blazing in his voice, "Storing it with all the other crap...no wonder it won't play anymore!"
Excellent, Remus thought dryly, he doesn't give a damn about his mental state, but woe betide any goblin who dares mistreat his ancient pile of muggle rubble. Padfoot really is back.
Saturday, 14th of May
Harry was confused.
His offer appeared to have been accepted, but only partially. There were several beans left over, but when he looked at them more closely he realized that they had not simply been left over, but spit out after eating. Apparently the Oompa-Loompa only liked certain tastes.
And they were very strange.
Analyzing them took time – Harry actually had to go and beg Sirius for sweets, something he had never done before, in order to gather sufficient sampling material – but after an hour or so of careful testing and colour comparison he came to the conclusion that the Oompa-Loompa had very strange tastes indeed.
List of Oompa-Loompa tastes
Accepted:
-Black Pepper (maybe)
-Pumpkin
-Overcooked cabbage (Sirius said so)
-Coffee
-A green one
Rejected:
-Lemon
-Honey
-Baked Bean
-Peppermint
Harry wasn't completely sure about the beans he had dropped off the night before, as it was generally hard to tell what they were before eating them. But after a rather traumatizing experience with a vomit flavoured one on his first try, Sirius, who was surprisingly knowledgeable when it came to all sorts of sweets, had started to teach him how to tell them apart.
And even if he was wrong on some accounts, it still looked like the Oompa-Loompa had made all the opposite choices that Harry would've made.
He again looked at the list of favourable tastes. They would be hard to realize, he decided. There was probably pepper somewhere, but he didn't know how to transport it properly. They didn't have any pumpkins, as it was May, and after a one time trial that had ended with a general boycott by Sirius, Remus had stopped cooking cabbage.
Coffee, maybe?
Remus only drank tea, but he had seen Sirius drink coffee on some mornings. It would be hard to make, of course, and it would probably be cold before the Oompa-Loompa found it, but it was worth a try.
Sunday, 15th of May
"How's your coffee?"
Sirius glared up at him. "Lovely, thank you," he said after a short pause with a falsely sweet smile on his face that could not quite hide the disgusted shudder.
Remus allowed himself a small smile – it was petty, but Earl Grey was no joking matter, and in his nightmares he could still taste the milky menace from the last full moon – before returning to his paper.
His conscience was clean; he had honestly done his best to teach Harry when they boy had come to him wanting to make his godfather a cup of coffee. But the coffee machine that Sirius had dug up was partly dysfunctional and had been a pain in the arse to use even in its best days. No wonder a seven-year-old couldn't quite manage it.
"Do you think he's alright?" Sirius asked after a few minutes if silence. "He's been behaving a little odd these past few days. Spends an awful lot of time in his room. Reckon he might have nightmares again?"
"I don't think so," Remus answered absentmindedly, frowning at the article. "He usually comes to you with those, doesn't he? But we may have a different problem; read this."
He handed the paper to Sirius, who took it and frowned. "Black spotted in London? But I haven't even..." He looked up sharply. "Do you think...Dumbledore?"
Remus scratched his head. "Dunno...might just be chance. There have been a lot of false alarms; last week some guy claimed you were strolling around on the Orkneys, remember?"
Sirius looked unconvinced, and if he was honest with himself, so was Remus. It was possible, of course, but it was just a little too close to the Patronus a few nights ago to be a coincidence.
"Bastard," Sirius hissed under his breath. "He knows I'm innocent, he said so himself! Please allow me to help you my arse."
"Maybe he took our silence as a sign that he was wrong. Maybe he thinks we're Death Eaters after all," Remus suggested half-heartedly, wondering if it hadn't been a mistake to listen to Sirius in this.
It had been on his mind for days now. Dumbledore had offered them peace, and they had ignored him. He believed them, wanted to help them... but if he wanted to help them, why alert the ministry? Why not try again?
"It doesn't matter," he said quickly, before Sirius could launch into another tirade. "We're safe here. They have no way in here; and it's not like they haven't been trying before. I'll just stop going to Diagon Alley and apparate to a grocery store further away from here."
"Hmpf," Sirius grumbled, and returned to his record player, which last night had at least managed to give off two or three notes before falling silent once more. "Just make sure you don't tell Harry. Don't want him to worry even further."
"Mr Oompa-Loompa? I brought you coffee." Harry hesitated in front of the open door, uncertainly holding on to the steaming mug. He was rather proud of himself for having made a second cup without Remus noticing after the one he had made for Sirius. He had sloshed a bit on the stairs, but he hoped that Sirius and Remus wouldn't notice.
However, just as before there was no answer.
"I didn't know if you liked milk in it," Harry continued quietly, craning his neck to search the empty room. "Or sugar. Sirius doesn't, so I left it out. But if you want, I can put it in next time."
Still no answer, so Harry reluctantly placed the mug on the floor in front of Sirius' old room, as he had done before. After a second of hesitation, he added quietly, "Thank you for showing me Sirius' room. I'm glad I know the truth."
While he had made the coffee for Sirius, Harry had come to the conclusion that it really didn't matter that his godfather's family was so strange, or that he hadn't told Harry about them. He was still Sirius, and Sirius was nice and funny and he loved Harry.
In fact, the most probably solution was that Sirius had simply been wrong when he had told Harry about the people living here before being evil. Or maybe there had been living someone here inbetween the Black family moving out and Sirius and Remus moving back in – yes, that made a lot of sense! No wonder Sirius was bitter about them.
"We're going to build a pillow fort," he told the empty room, "me and Sirius and Remus. If you want, you can come, too. It'll be a lot of fun!"
Again, no one answered, but Harry hadn't really expected him too.
Tomorrow, then.
Monday, 16th of May
Monday was the most exciting day yet in Harry's hunt for the Oompa-Loompa. Because it was a school day he hadn't gotten to check if his offer had been accepted until after lunch.
As he was slowly sneaking up the stairs – he only had a few minutes during which he was officially brushing his teeth, because Sirius had promised to show him his newly repaired record player – holding the peach he had nicked from the kitchen close to his chest, he suddenly froze.
He was on the third landing, and there was definitely a voice coming from the behind one of the sealed doors.
His heart hammering in his chest, Harry slowly started moving towards it, thankful for the faded old carpet that muffled his steps. Like all doors in this house this one was made from thick wood, and he struggled to make out any words.
"...likes coffee...brat..."
It seemed to be a male voice, though rather croaky.
Could it be the Oompa-Loompa? But who was he talking to?
Harry stared at the tarnished silver door knob, weighing his options. Should he knock? Or call out?
But the Oompa-Loompa was shy; he would probably hide.
Curiosity won over politeness, and after a last flicker of hesitation, Harry quickly turned the door knob and pushed open the door.
It opened without any problem – maybe the Oompa-Loompa was a wizard who could reverse the magical locking that Sirius and Remus had done? – and for a split second he saw a figure standing in the middle of the room, staring at Harry with enormous wide eyes.
It was smaller than Harry, maybe three foot tall, and had pale, ancient looking skin, bat-like ears and a snout.
Before he had quite recovered from the surprising sight there was a soft pop, and the figure vanished into thin air.
Harry stared at them empty spot where it had been, completely shocked. It hadn't looked like Harry had imagined Oompa-Loompas at all. And as far as he knew, Oompa-Loompas didn't have the power to just vanish like that, either.
But maybe the muggle who wrote the book just didn't know about them properly. Most muggle books about wizards are wrong, after all.
He didn't get the opportunity to think on that further as there was a call from downstairs. "Harry? You alright up there? Didn't get attacked by the toothbrush-fairy, did you?"
Harry jumped. "I'm coming Sirius!" he yelled back, panic flushing through him as he hoped that his godfather didn't come up to look for him himself.
But just before he closed the door behind him again, he spotted something in the middle of the room, right next to where the Oompa-Loompa had been. An empty mug, the exact same one that he had stolen the day before.
As he raced down the stairs, nearly stumbling in his haste, Harry felt a grin spread over his face. It appeared he had finally found out what the Oompa-Loompa – or whatever he was – liked.
And now that he had, it was only a matter of time until he could lure him out into the open.
I apologize for the lack of action, but with all of them locked in there's not really much that can happen (yet). There'll be a few more chapters of Harry's investigation before things pick up again; I hope you're not bored of it yet ;)
