AN: So, we're here again. As always, I am so glad to see all of your responses to the last chapter. Thanks to all of the followers and favorites out there. Super tons of thanks to reviewers: Kairan1979, Majerus, BuriedHumanity, Firenze Fox, Guest, Jmw, Twisted Identity, Penny is wise, lealover1, Magdylena Black, Lady Sabine of Macayhill, magitech, Ari989, becuzitswrong, B00kw0rm92, MariusDarkwolf, BronzeButterfly18, serialkeller, Books are air, Fibinaci, LuckyCat1, Tellur, and monbade.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise.
On the first official day of his fourth year, Cormac McLaggen awoke to terrified shouts, coming from the seventh year boys' dormitory. He sat straight up in his four poster bed and swung his legs over the side.
"Push it down the stairs!" Oliver Wood shouted.
"What is it?" Percy Weasley yelled.
"I dunno, just get rid of it!" Oliver shouted back.
The sixth year boys weren't expecting the huge ball of fur that came flying at them.
"Aaah!"
"Get away, get away!"
"Try and hex it!"
"It won't stand still!"
The beast traveled down another flight of stairs to reach the fifth years, who were (mostly) ready.
"Come here, little…ball of fluff," Lee cooed, wiggling his fingers. "C'mere! Aha! Gotcha. 'Kay, what now?" He turned to the twins.
"Hey, wait a minute," Fred held up his hand.
"Isn't that…" George began, studying the creature more closely.
"Don't worry, Jordan! I'll save you!" Bernie Benson burst at Lee, intending to knock the frightening, hideous, disgusting little thing away.
"No, don't!" Lee exclaimed; but it was too late. The cat had fled from the room.
This time, Cormac was ready for it. He made a wild swipe at the air, scooping the beast into his waiting arms. His fellow fourth years pulled out their wands.
"Wait! This isn't going to murder us, you guys," Cormac explained. "It's just Hermione's cat."
"Granger's cat?"
"That's an ugly looking thing."
Crookshanks hissed at the ignorant fools.
"Don't worry, Crookshanks. I'll get you back to Hermione right away," Cormac whispered, descending the steps. The cat burrowed into his arms and let out a contented purr. But as Cormac passed the third year dormitories, a strange shadow passed over Crookshanks' face, and the orange puffball leaped toward the open door, where all five boys were watching.
"What's Hermione's cat doing in the boys' dorms?" Dean asked.
"Get away from Scabbers, you—you monster!" Ron declared firmly, standing on his bed with his rat clutched close to his chest.
Crookshanks reached up and clawed Ron's leg viciously.
"Seamus! Take Scabbers. Hide him!" Ron begged through the pain.
Seamus eyed the cat doubtfully. "This one's on you, mate."
"What on earth is going on?" Hermione asked from the doorway.
"That thing's a menace!" Ron yelped. "He tried to kill Scabbers!"
Hermione shot him an icy glare and delicately cradled Crookshanks. "Crookie would never do such a thing, would you?" She rubbed him between the ears, smiling as he purred. She carefully perched him on her shoulder and turned away, missing Crookshanks' sinister grin at Ron.
"I'll see you all at breakfast," She called back.
All six boys in the room groaned.
"D'you think there's any chance I could go back to bed and not be late for class?" Dean wondered, rubbing his eyes.
"Doubt it," Harry mumbled, dragging himself to the bathroom. If he was honest with himself, he was partially thankful towards Crookshanks. The cat's mishaps had woken Harry from a very vivid dream, one which he could no longer remember. But he did recall seeing the laughing eyes of Black, and try as he might, Harry couldn't shake that startling image.
"Good morning Gryffindors!" Charity chirped, passing out the schedules for the rest of the year. "I hope you're all doing well on your first day!"
Neville began to slump forward into his porridge before being nudged awake by Parvati.
"Is something wrong?" Charity asked worriedly, the smile slowly slipping off her face.
"No, no," Percy told her quickly. "We just…didn't get much sleep."
Charity tilted her head to the side. "You know Percy, you can move into the Head dorms, if you want to."
"I know. I just…" He glanced up and down the Gryffindor table. "I'd rather stay in the tower."
She smiled at him. "I understand. Now, if anyone has any questions or concerns about their schedule, let me know as soon as you can. Unfortunately, I have to eat up at the teachers' table today—"
The kids groaned good-naturedly.
"I know, I know. But I will be back tomorrow. Good luck!" She swept away, but not before surreptitiously dropping a note into Harry's lap.
Don't forget to visit the Headmistress' office after classes today. Remember, the password is Modification!
Harry frowned and stuffed the note in his pocket, not looking forward to the talk at all.
"What's your first class?" Lavender asked all of the third years.
"I have Divination," Parvati volunteered. "It looks like fun."
Hermione pursed her lips and didn't respond. Ron snatched her schedule out of her hands.
"I don't understand, Hermione," He told her, frowning. "Someone must've messed up your schedule. You can't possibly take this many classes."
"What're you taking?" Seamus asked.
"Well, I'm taking Muggle Studies, Divination, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Care of Magical Creatures." Hermione ticked them off on her fingers before grabbing a piece of toast.
"Hermione, you have three classes at nine o'clock," Katie pointed out. "There's no way you'll be able to make it to all of them."
"I've already worked it all out," She said calmly.
"The only way to take all of those is if you're in three places at once." Oliver stretched for the sausage.
"I've worked it out," She repeated snappishly. "Can someone pass the marmalade?"
"Yeah, sure," Oliver said absentmindedly. "Perce, guess what? We have Defense first! Isn't that great?"
Percy stared at him. "Um, I guess. Since when did you start like Defense so much?"
"Oh, I don't," He replied cheerfully. "It's just that we'll be Professor Lupin's first class, so we get to break him in."
Percy chewed his eggs thoughtfully. "I don't know. Aren't we a little too old for that?"
Oliver's eyes grew comically wide. "You're never too old to show a teacher the ropes. It'll be fun."
Percy glanced towards the teacher's table, where Lupin sat oblivious. "As long as it's not too immature or…or inappropriate, or anything like that."
"You worry too much," Oliver told him, waving away his concerns.
Remus Lupin was not nervous. Not a single bit. In fact, he had never been calmer in his life. He was completely, totally, utterly fine. His first class was full of seventh years, some of whom probably only took this class to fill up their schedule, but that didn't bother him. He was so not worried. He was great. Never mind the fact that just being in the room brought back memories that made him want to hurl, and that he was still shaken from seeing Harry—Harry, James' son—almost get kissed by a dementor.
Maybe this had been a bad idea. Maybe he shouldn't have come here. But Minerva had practically begged him to come work at Hogwarts, and he'd been desperate for money and a place to stay. Now he didn't even have to spend money on lodgings and food. That didn't mean he'd throw that money away. No, he had to save it up. There was no telling how long this job would last.
But Harry was here! The little boy that Remus had been too terrified to contact. Remus wasn't stupid; he knew Sirius (Black, he told himself roughly) had convinced Lily and James that he was the spy. The idea wasn't completely unfounded. The werewolves had taken Voldemort's side in the war, and Remus had become increasingly distant after Harry was born. It was just that…seeing that baby had made Remus' heart ache. The possibility of him having a child was so preposterous! Remus could never condemn a child to that awful situation.
He regretted it. Of course he did, especially now that Lily and James were…gone. Remus could never see them again. Seeing Harry now though, thirteen years old, nearly identical to James, except for the eyes…that changed everything. Oh, how things changed. If only Remus had found out where he lived, pushed harder to visit him. But he hadn't.
And now, being back at Hogwarts had twisted his insides. Walking through the familiar halls and watching as the same scenes played out before his eyes. Remus had almost sat down at the Gryffindor table instead of his designated spot next to Snape. Remus scowled, thinking of the man. Snape had been furious upon finding out that Remus had applied for the Defense position, and even more furious upon finding out that Remus had been chosen over Snape. Remus had thought the man was about to burst a blood vessel when he was ordered to make the Wolfsbane potion.
"Professor Lupin, right?" Oliver Wood had entered the room along with this year's Head Boy, Percy Weasley.
"Yes, that's right." Remus shook his hand. "And you're Oliver Wood, correct?"
"Yeah." Wood shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth.
Remus recognized the gleam in his eyes and was instantly put on his guard. "Your father was a few years ahead of me in school. How is he, by the way?"
Remus had intended to use Tristan as some sort of leverage, to pretend that he could easily contact Oliver's father should any problems arrive. He quickly realized this was the wrong tactic, as both Wood and Weasley stiffened.
"Erm, well, he actually died, um—a few years ago." Wood rubbed the back of his neck.
"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that," Remus said genuinely. He quickly turned away and cursed himself. His first day and he was already making thoughtless blunders.
"Anyway, we just came to make sure you were settling in okay," Weasley added hurriedly, pulling Wood away.
"Yeah, good luck. We're just gonna go real quick. But we'll be back for your first class," Wood called as he was dragged out the door.
Remus sighed and cradled his head in his hands. That was just one more person he knew who had passed away. He sat down heavily. People shouldn't have to die so young. The war had been tragic enough, but when there was no longer any foul play going on….
Snape seemed to take every opportunity possible to remind Remus of his numerous failures. As long as they weren't in earshot of Augusta or Minerva, that is. Remus leaned back and reflected on the staff. There had been so many changes since he was in school, most notably Dumbledore's departure. At least Binns was finally gone. Despite his love of history, Remus had never been able to stay awake in that class.
Remus stood up, reaching a decision. He would stay, and he would make sure every student in the room enjoyed, or was at least engaged in, the lesson. He owed it to the kids…and to Lily and James.
Harry dragged himself back to McGonagall's office, exhausted. He was never riding a hippogriff again. It had been exhilarating, at least until Malfoy had to go and ruin everything. Harry couldn't stand him. Malfoy had known not to antagonize a hippogriff, or at least should've had the common sense not to go insulting something that could probably kill him.
All of his classes had been stressful, really. In Divination, his teacup had supposedly contained the Grim. Parvati and Lavender had both looked frightened at that, and said it must have something to do with Black and possibly even the dementors. Then, in Transfiguration, Professor Tonks had said that Trelawney predicted such things fairly often, and they had never yet come true. No one was relieved by this news, because Sirius Black was still out there, and even Harry himself was starting to believe it.
Afterwards was the disastrous Care of Magical Creatures, which Harry was trying his best to forget. McGonagall couldn't possibly fire Hagrid, could she? Harry decided to confront her later, in order to stop the worrying for both him and his friends. This was going to be after she told him about Sirius Black, as he predicted she was going to. What else could she and Burbage want to meet with him about?
"Modification," He told the gargoyle, lost in thought.
Both McGonagall and Burbage had been waiting for him anxiously. Harry almost smiled at their expressions; wouldn't they be shocked when he told them he knew everything.
"Mr. Potter, please, have a biscuit," McGonagall offered, gesturing to a pretty tin on her desk.
Harry selected one at random and munched noiselessly, leaning back in McGonagall's squashy chair.
"Mr. Potter, have you heard of the Fidelius Charm?" She asked delicately.
Harry shook his head slowly.
"But I suppose you have heard of Sirius Black, right?" Burbage blurted out nervously.
Harry nodded. "Look Professors, I know all about Black and what he's done and who he's after. Mr. Weasley already told me." He tried to appease them, but found they just looked even more worried.
"You know and you're not angry? Or-or seeking revenge?" Burbage gaped at him.
Harry frowned, confused. "Why would I be seeking revenge?"
"But—but you just said…"
"Potter, how much do you know about Black?" McGonagall interrupted.
"Well, he was Voldemort's right-hand man, and he murdered thirteen people with one curse, and he just escaped Azkaban, and now he's looking for me to finish what Voldemort started." When Harry laid it all out like that, it seemed like he knew only a miniscule amount. But there couldn't really be any more to know, right?
"Then there is a lot to this story that you do not know," McGonagall told him gently, sipping her tea. "Have another biscuit."
Harry took another biscuit and chewed this one more slowly.
"The Fidelius Charm is a complex charm that is only employed in times of great peril. It is not currently a part of the Hogwarts curriculum. It allows for a location to be hidden from all eyes."
"Like the Leaky Cauldron?" Harry asked.
"Not quite," Burbage replied. "The Leaky Cauldron can only be seen by those with magic in their blood. The Fidelius Charm is much more powerful than that."
"Your parents were under a Fidelius Charm. It was how they managed to stay hidden for so long," McGonagall explained. "The spell also requires placing a large amount of trust in one person. This person is called the Secret Keeper. The Secret Keeper is the only one who can reveal that location."
Harry was beginning to feel queasy. Something about this wasn't right.
"Potter, have another biscuit," McGonagall ordered. She waited until he was chewing to continue talking. "Potter, your family's Secret Keeper was Sirius Black."
Harry fell back in the chair, hardly daring to breathe. He must've heard that wrong. He must've. It couldn't be that Sirius Black was the person who his parents trusted most. That wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible. Because if what McGonagall was saying was true, then Black had betrayed his parents, and Lily and James Potter had died thanks to the laughing madman that kept appearing in his dreams.
"Harry?" Burbage put a hand on his shoulder, bringing him back to McGonagall's office.
"Why?" Harry croaked, looking straight at McGonagall. "Why did they trust him?"
"Mr. Potter, you have to understand, those were difficult times. There were so many people you could no longer trust, people you had known for years and had suddenly become someone different. James Potter and Black went to school together, and the two of them had been the best of friends ever since first year. No one would have ever suspected—" McGonagall broke off and quickly sipped some more tea.
"Another friend of James and Black was Peter Pettigrew. He was the one to reveal Black as a traitor. Black killed him and twelve muggles after he was exposed. After that, he was carted off to Azkaban. Mr. Potter, what you need to realize is that no one could have known what Black was really like. It was one of You-Know-Who's best kept secrets. Everyone trusted Black to keep Lily and James safe. He was even your godfather."
"He was?" Harry's head popped up again. If anything, that revelation made him feel even worse. Harry's godfather was a mass murderer. Imagine how that sentence would sound aloud. Probably even more strange than it did in his head.
"He was," McGonagall confirmed before grabbing another biscuit.
Harry wanted to stand up and run from the room. He wanted to be anywhere but there. He'd rather be flying a hippogriff, or playing Quidditch in the freezing rain, or even holed up in the Hospital Wing without any visitors. Because what he was hearing was just not possible. It wasn't even remotely possible. Sirius Black was nothing more than an escaped convict out to kill Harry. That was all he was. He wasn't the Secret Keeper for the Potters, and he most certainly was not Harry's godfather. That was out of the question.
Perhaps Harry really would die at the hands of Black. Perhaps Black would try and convince Harry that he was innocent. Perhaps Black would even gloat about the Potters' deaths. Harry wondered if he was just going to lie down and take it. Would he be shocked and surprised, like his parents probably were? What had they thought, when they realized that their friend had betrayed him? Had they ever even suspected such a thing was possible? Probably not.
Thinking of Harry's parents made him grow hot with rage. Sirius Black had surprised them. He had blind-sided them, and they had never guessed. That wouldn't happen to Harry. When Sirius Black came, for Harry was sure now that he would, Harry would be ready for him. He wasn't just going to give up and die. He would make sure that his parents were avenged. He would make sure Black realized the weight of what he had done.
Harry stood abruptly. "Thank you for letting me know, Professors. If you'll excuse me, I'm kind of tired."
"Harry, you know if you need to talk, you can come find me, okay?" Burbage rose as well, carefully swiping the tears from her face.
"I know. I'll see you tomorrow." He hadn't meant to sound so stiff, but that was how it had come out.
It was as Harry was descending the stairs that he thought of something. He was going to have to tell his friends all about one Mr. Sirius Black.