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Disclaimers and Notes: Good Gad, you get it by now!
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Dear Readers,
It's been over a year since the last time I updated. I know. Hate me all you want to not at least posting something, but I really honestly didn't expect to have no time whatsoever.
To be honest, I've been having a hard time connecting to this fic like I used to. Therefore it is so much harder for me to write for it! I ALSO began to realize that the final chapter was reaching close to 32 page and not finished. Thinking that at least the first 20 pages or so were done, I figured I might as well post the first part I make the epilogue a total of 3 parts. I know people want the damn thing finished, but I don't want to just post anything… The final part is going to be carefully looked at, but I will tell you it doesn't end with a bang. It is a quiet, peaceful ending, if not a little foreboding…
But we shall all see…
I remembered that my story actually ends on Christmas day, so I'm hoping to at least have it done by the end of the whole holiday season... For me I understand that to be about January 6th or so, but this reeeally has been a pain!
Hope you guys like this. Don't hate me for where I cut it off.
Geuna
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Author: Lady Geuna
Sub Editor for this chapter: Kat Ishida (a.k.a. Kitty-chan)
This Chapter Rated: PG-13--just to be safe.
Recent Summary: Everything is drawing to a close. Sirius Black is free under court of law after his second official trial while Remus Lupin is recuperating after a near fatal incident with silver. Everyone else is slowly getting used to how suddenly "calm" life has become. With things going back to "normal," some often miss the fact that there are still many loose ends to be tied up, especially where the Potter's are concerned...
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"..." - speech
'...' - thoughts
/.../ - with italics means a part of a flashback.
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Epilogue: "Taking Final Steps" Part 2 of 3
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"Evil's greatest accomplishment...is tricking you into believing it has no power over you."
Albus Dumbledore, Fanfiction "Charmed Curses", Epilogue: Part 1: The Truth, by Lady Geuna
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Mid December, Hogwarts Train Platform, Morning
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Draco knew the Potter's had to be up to something.
It was obvious! Since the moment he noticed Harry-Bloody-Potter standing with his father on the train platform. All of Potter's things were packed and ready to be shipped off to who knows where—and wherever he was being shipped off to it was without his precious father.
And during the holidays no less.
Potter's father, that zombie James Potter, had come empty handed, standing only in a heavy winter cloak with his hands buried in his pockets. Perhaps he would be joining Potter later, desiring a different mode of transportation? And where was he going? Draco knew enough to know that the Mr. Potter was basically homeless, jobless, and probably disowned by their dirty Muggle relatives.
That was why the Potter's were practically live at Hogwarts now. Lupin had been kicked out in a big hurry, but that was no surprise. Even Black had been given a bloody job, which had no doubt sent Draco's mother into an absolute fit.
But no one seemed to know what to do with Potter senior.
Draco almost hoped he'd be kicked out at some point as well, but he wouldn't keep his hopes up. As long as Dumbledore was running things at Hogwarts, James Potter was as good as a permanent resident…
As for The Boy Who Lived... Perhaps he was staying with one of his little friends? However...
Draco's eyes scanned the area again and confirm that the Weasel and Mudblood weren't around, either. Another oddity. They were staying for the holiday, but without their precious Potter? Or maybe Draco had somehow missed them, even though such unattractive people can be hard to miss sometimes.
Oh love, how the crowd was moving. Finally… Students were filing in one at a time into the train. Draco shot a glance to either side of him at Crab and Goyle. "You two," he ordered sharply, "go find a compartment before they are all filled, and hurry up about it."
Exchanging looks the two nodded, grunted, and ambled off.
After his two henchmen left, Draco hurried forward so that he was as close as he could be to the Potters. He was easily hidden from sight behind a line of students who were having trouble fitting in through the train door in their hurry. Draco could barely hear the two speaking...
"… I imagine you've done this before."
"More times than you, I'm sure of it."
They shared a small laugh, though for some reason neither of them was putting much feeling into it. Potter senior appeared worried about something... Odd thing, too, Potter wasn't holding himself as he usually did… his posture was a bit too straight…
"You'll be alright, won't you?"
"Don't worry about me, nothing will happen. You didn't need to go through the trouble of escorting me like this, either, I'll be seeing you soon enough."
"But..."
"Listen," Harry said, "escorts will be coming to take you to Hogsmead. I talked to Dumbledore about it." The train whistle sounded, and Draco lost a bit of the conversation… "… surethey don't let you out of their sights until you meet Remus. Alright?"
Draco didn't get to hear anymore as someone rudely shoved into him from behind, sending him tripping slightly forward toward the door. The line was finally moving, he might as well move along as well... Ah! And Potter was leaving, too, saying his final good-byes before going through another train door. Now was his chance…!
Once Draco was on the train he began shoving his was through people in order to catch up with Potter. He glanced behind himself to make you're his henchmen were still in tow, suddenly remembering that he had ordered them ahead… oh well, he was a Malfoy, and he could take care of himself!
And finally he caught a glance of despicably messy dark hair.
"Oi, Potter!"
The brunette turned to him immediately, a peculiar look of surprise crossing his face. "Draco?"
This reaction immediately had Draco on the offensive. Never before had Potter spoken to him with such a... with such a lack of malice! Even his face didn't hold the barest hit of the scowl Draco would have expected from "I'm Too Good For Words" Potter.
Draco made sure to wear his best, most loathing sneer while responding, careful to mask his surprise. His father hopefully would have been proud. "Going home alone, Potter? And without your dad? He didn't want you around any more than your little fan club? Pity they discovered some common sense."
Potter's eyes turned into thin slits of green fire for only a moment…
… before he turned to walk away.
Draco only waited an instant before stopping Potter, seizing one robed shoulder and spinning him around.
"I'm not done talking to you, Potter," Draco snapped, enraged. He could hear Crab and Goyle cracking their knuckles loudly just behind him, no doubt glared at Potter as well. "Don't you walk away before I'm finished or you might just regret—"
"I thought you would know better than to talk to me at all, Malfoy. Didn't your father have a little chat with you, hm?"
Draco bit his lip a little to hard in an effort to keep from snapping back, but the way his throat closed up at the mention of his father he didn't think he'd be able to say anything even if he wanted to.
His father had ordered him to leave Potter alone... but after torturing the other boy for so long he found that old habits died hard.
Potter smirked, glancing momentarily at the two boys standing behind Draco, as well as to some students who had stopped to watch. "Since we're bound to start moving anytime now I suggest we find our own separate places to site, hm?" He walked quickly to the end of the train section, opening the door swiftly and stepping through. Before closing the door behind him Potter threw Draco one last saucy smirk, saying "Merry Christmas, Malfoy," before disappearing from sight into a nearby train compartment.
Draco just stood where he was, trembling in anger. Crab and Goyle just stood behind him, glancing at each other dumbly, unsure of what to do.
Merlin, he hated Potters...
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Hogwarts, the Great Hall, Late Afternoon
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The Holidays...
Snape hated the holidays.
Students were only just leaving today for their families and the Great Hall was hung with greenery and red and gold and candles floating elegantly in the air. A scent hung in the air that was a nauseating mix of pine and ginger, meant to give a feeling of warmth and holiday cheer.
Snape hated it.
Hated it!
And the worst part of it was that the living person he hated the most was sitting beside him, gripping... childishly. A grown man, gripping about the job he had wanted most of all.
Snape hated the holidays.
He hated Sirius Black just as much.
"Blasted, idiot children," Black scowled at his meal, no doubt imagining it was Snape's face as he used a knife and fork to jaggedly cut at a piece of ham. "What could Dumbledore have been thinking, giving me this job?"
"We all wonder that, Black."
"Stuff-it, you git. I don't see how you can manage it, either. Teaching children."
"We all wonder that, Black," he sneered. Snape wondered again how the seating arrangement somehow ended up with him sitting next to Black, of all people. No doubt Dumbledore was to blame. While the man had done many things for him in his lifetime, he never failed to make Snape suffer at the same time. 'Damn you, Albus.'
"And you, Snape! You're around poisons all day with these—these hellions," Black gestured to the many students before him with his fork, a motion that seemed altogether unprofessional in Snape's opinion. A number of children from various houses were watching him from their tables, and all of them flinched reflexively.
Apparently, even in such a short amount of time, Sirius Black had managed to strike fear into the hearts of his students.
"How can you resist not trying to do away with any them," Sirius asked, not noticing or ignoring the effect he had on those children watching him.
"I have no idea what you're trying to say," Snape lied.
"You know exactly what I mean, Snape. Don't you imagine trying, even? I can't imagine a vindictive person such as yourself could think of a few good methods of killing, as I'm sure you fantasize about my painful demise quite often."
'Everyday,' he thought darkly. Aloud he said, "Of course not, Black. I am a professor, not a murderer."
Black gained a sort of tongue-in-cheek expression and replied, "I don't believe that for one for a minute," but Snape held back from growling audibly.
To his surprise, however, Black continued on to a different topic.
"Snape... out of curiosity... I haven't heard a single foul word out of your mouth regarding how much you hate me for taking this job..."
"Rest assured," Snape hissed bitterly, "I hate you enough already." 'Even without you taking the job I have wanted for years,' he thought…
"Thought so," Black said, nodding his head knowingly, ignoring the venom in Snape's tone. "I take it Dumbledore didn't talk to you first before giving the job to me, hm?" He made a show of sighing deeply and reaching for his goblet. "How sad..."
Oh, he didn't seem very sorry at all, the bastard.
"Of course he came to me," Snape snapped, his fork unconsciously stabbing into his metal plate, scratching the surface with an audible "screech!" "The day before he sent that blasted letter, he gave me a proposition, and the old fool knew I would never accept."
Black paused from drinking his pumpkin juice to prompt, "And why was that?"
Slapping his fork down next to his plate, he turned in his seat a bit so that he was almost facing Black. He spoke slowly, so that each word made sense for Black's slow, feeble mind. "If I were to become the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher then you, by default would become the potions teacher." Snape sneered. "You of all people could hardly grasp the delicate intricacies of potion making. And as you said yourself, you would be around poisons all day long. With the intent or not, I won't be held responsible for the death of one of my students because of your stupidity."
Black gave him a disbelieve look. "So, you're saying you were willing to give up the position as DADA teacher for the sake of the students?"
"No, I simply will not be held accountable. And besides that, how could I ever live down being succeeded by Sirius Black in potion making? Succeeded by Sirius Black in anything.
"If that isn't the biggest crock I've ever heard—"
"Both of you!" Snape smirked when Black jumped in his seat, then turned his attention to Professor McGonagall, who was sending them both a hawk-like glare, her lips pursed irritably. "Please, you're disturbing the students. At least wait until after the meal to bicker."
When McGonagall has sat down Black muttered, "Such a shrewd woman…"
Snape personally thought Black was getting far too comfortable with his life at Hogwarts. He was sure only to have the position for a year, and only a year. The position was cursed, and even Snape knew he would be a fool to think he could beat such old magic. Lupin had been a fool to try and return for as long as he did, and look what happened to him…
Black obviously had no idea how hard life was going to be for him in the future, when Lord Voldemort would try and rise to power… and surely, he will come close to succeeding… Or perhaps he would…? Where would that leave him…? What if he secrets were discovered?
Playing three sides was a game not easily played.
If only the Order realized he played another rule for Dumbledore… But none of them would ever see it.
With the way things were going in the war, Dumbledore was going to get himself killed sooner of later. Snape was sure to follow soon after.
Perhaps what disturbed Snape the most was that the thought didn't bother him as much as it should…
"Blast," Black suddenly exclaimed, looking at his watch, "I need to go!" He sat up quickly, gathering his robes around him as he stood and pushing the seat back. "It was nice having this... 'chat' with you, Snape. Oddly enough it was enjoyable."
"I can hardly say the same, Black."
"I doubt it will ever happen again," Black added, leveling him with a glare was wasn't entirely cold… Snape ignored that and pretended Black was invisible as the ex-convict grabbed two biscuits from the table and walked off, excusing himself with a quick nod to Dumbledore and the other staff.
Unconcerned though mildly suspicious of where Black was going, Snape watched him leave with sharp eyes. When Black was finally out of sight he sent dark looks to the students who didn't have the brains to stop watching him. Snape made a careful note to remember their faces for when school started again…
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Platform 9 ¾, Early Evening
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Remus waited upon the cold bench, glancing occasionally up at the station clock. It now read four thirty o'clock. The Sirius' train wasn't due in for a while, though he half wished Sirius could have scheduled for an earlier time.
Though the Hogwarts train had passed through a while ago, Platform 9 ¾ was already loaded with people wanting to go home for the holidays, and Remus could tell that many of them were anxious to be home and out of the cold.
They were lucky to have loving families to return to once in a while…
Sighing to himself, he crossed his arms over his chest in an effort to block out more of the cold. Remus watched as his steamy breath spun and mixed in the chilly air before disappearing altogether. Perhaps it was useless sitting like this on a cold bench…
"Remus."
Lifting his head toward the sound of the voice and—despite his surprise—he stood, smiled and waved welcomingly to his friend. "Sirius!"
Sirius approached him swiftly, his clean, dark cloak bellowing behind him slightly with each stride. In many ways he reminded Remus of Snape as he stalked along the dungeon halls.
He would have said the comment out loud, but... well, to say the least, it wouldn't have gone over well with Sirius...
Nevertheless, Sirius looked very formidable now that he had a good amount of meat back on his bones. Remus supposed that Sirius was the sort of person who couldn't approach someone on the streets without making them feel intimidated.
"You're early, aren't you," Sirius commented as he came to stand close to Remus, sharing in what little heat he had to offer while looking around the platform casually. He obviously wasn't used to so many people yet…
"I could say the same to you. Your train isn't due for a bit, isn't it?" His eyes darted quickly to the station clock, wondering if he had somehow gotten the time wrong. Before he had a chance to reach into his pockets and find his own timepiece Sirius answered him.
"Thought I'd wait a bit and Apparate ahead of time. Not very fond of trains, much less sitting on one full of people for hours. As soon as I get a bit more money I'll buy another motorcycle."
"That's a rather wasteful way to live, Sirius."
"Well, at least it's living... even if it's not the least bit as I remembered it… Merlin, Moony, even your Muggle clothes in ruins…?"
Remus looked down at himself, slightly feeling his cheeks warming with embarrassment. He was wearing a large patched up brown long-coat, which looked like it had been nibbled on at the edges... "I haven't thought of it, really…" The coat reached down to his calves and gave at least some warmth, and that is all he could hope for. He felt a little embarrassed that Sirius had mentioned it at all…
"Don't worry about it," Sirius said quickly, looking a bit guilty for mentioning it. "Next time you can borrow one of mine, you don't look warm at all."
"Black isn't exactly my color," Remus said humorously, trying to lighten the mood. "But I see you're not ready for walking in a Muggle neighborhood."
Sirius smirked and shrugged back one side of his cloak, revealing a long black winter coat. It was leather, and the style was certainly Muggle, the sort of thing he could certain see Sirius wanting to wear. Obviously he had taken himself shopping. "I can shrink this thing when I need to and shove it in my pocket…" The cocky grin suddenly disappeared from his face and he straightened. He seemed to have realized something… "What a minute, where is… James… Remus, I thought James would be with you."
"He's not here, he's—"
"You said you wouldn't let him out of your sight, Remus!"
Remus' eyes narrowed for a moment, before continuing. "Tonks and Shacklebolt stayed with us after we left Hogsmead… I waited here for you and they took him to get something to eat… Apparently he didn't sleep very well last night, nor did he eat breakfast... Did you honestly think I would be stupid enough to allow him to wonder off on his own?"
Sirius mouth closed tightly for only a moment before he opened it again, a slightly wild look flashed in his eyes belied his even, low tone. "It's not that I don't trust you… I trust you with my life, Remus, I do… But when it comes to the Potters the only person I trust with them is me. I am Harry's godfather, and James is like a brother to me, and..." He trailed off, starring into Remus' face.
The werewolf only starred back at him…
Sirius finally looked down toward the ground looking thoroughly ashamed. "I'm sorry I snapped at you… I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions, especially with you… Remus…"
Silence carried on between the two of them. Remus could tell that people were stopping to stare at them, but he didn't look up to tell for sure.
Remus turned to leave, gesturing briefly for Sirius to follow, which he did in a hurry, like a dog eager to apologize for a mistake. "I think we've attracted too much attention now, we should move towards the entrance… They should be back shortly, so there is no need to worry, Sirius…"
"Remus, I really didn't—"
"I understand the fine points of your relationship with Harry and James, Sirius, and I won't hold it against you." He paused in his step to insure he made eye contact with Sirius before he continued… "But don't think I do not feel the same way, even if I'm not as 'qualified'."
Sirius was scowling, not at Remus, but at the ground at his feet. No doubt cursing himself… figuratively…
Feeling a little guilty, Remus patted Sirius on the shoulder, casting a small smile his way. The gesture was lost to Sirius when the man failed to look up and see it. "Come on," Remus said quietly, "let's find those three and finish this. I think we'll all feel better once we're all back where we belong…"
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The Dursley Residence
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"He's acting strangely, Vernon."
"No surprise considering what he is," Vernon hissed, watching the boy carefully, looking for any false moves.
"Why is he here," Petunia asked for the hundredth time, her voice just as high and terrified, as it had been the day before. The Dursley's had been belatedly informed by mail that they were to pick up the disgusting boy from the train station. And only a day's notice!
These strange folk were as rude as they were dangerous!
"He won't stay in his room," Petunia said, "even when I tell him to… He's become too wild, Vernon. Wild!"
Harry was looking allowing the front hallway now, stopping to stare at the cupboard door…
And he just… stood there…
Vernon and Petunia watched with bated breath from the kitchen entrance as the boy continued to stand there for five whole minutes before stepping over and opening the cupboard door. He peered inside.
Vernon was almost tempted to shove the boy inside and lock the door…
"This… is where I slept?"
The question made the blood in his veins freeze, and Vernon reflexively clutched his hand to his chest. For a moment he was sure the boy had perhaps cast some sort of ghastly spell on him, but he realized that it just his nerves making his heart flutter.
Was the boy playing with them, or has he finally snapped completely? Should he call the police? "I-I don't have to answer something like that," Vernon sputter after realizing the boy was still waiting for a response, "You know the answer just as well as I do!"
The sound of creaking along the stairs drew their attention upward. Dudley peeked over the railing from the top of the staircase. The poor boy was horribly pale! The child was obviously as worried as Vernon and Petunia were.
"Dudley, dear, go back to your room," Petunia said hurriedly, waving her hands as if to shoo him along.
"But I'm hungry," Dudley argued, his eyes meeting Harry's. He shrunk back a little but scowled just the same. "I want something to eat, now," he continued in a louder voice, sticking his chin out. "Why do we have to be afraid of him, anyway? He still can't do anything without breaking the rules, can he? I don't care who is godfather is!"
Vernon felt proud that his son was willing to stand up to a monster like this scar-headed freak.
"Go to the kitchen," Vernon said gruffly, eyes never leaving Harry's back. "Go, now!"
Dudley didn't hesitate to move. He hurried nosily down the steps and rushed through the hallway, intentionally knocking into Harry along the way. The subtle shove nearly dashed the shorter boys head against the wall above the cupboard doorway
Pity the fiend caught himself.
Harry was watching after Dudley with narrowed eyes as Vernon and his wife let their son through the doorway. The scarred boys eyes flashed beneath his ridiculously round spectacles before he slammed the cupboard door shut. A slight tremor seemed to vibrate through the house for an instant and plaster sprinkled down from the walls before Harry headed toward the kitchen, where Vernon and Petunia stood frozen and pale.
This was just like tow years ago, right before his sister went floating out the window!
Only the boy bypassed them entirely and went straight into the dinning room...
Vernon clutched Petunia's arm, and she clutched onto his side looking about ready to faint. They could hear Dudley rummaging through the refrigerator behind them. Either he hadn't notice or completely ignored the fact that there house just shook on its very foundation.
Ah, such a brave young lad!
"What is he doing," Petunia cried shrilly, her voice becoming increasingly wild. "Why is he doing this to us?"
Hands clenched into fists, Vernon made up his mind at least. This ends here! "I will get to the bottom of this! Right NOW!"
With that he marched into the dinning room, where Harry was inspecting the fireplace. Probably expecting some of his Wizard friends to come dropping in any second!
Harry straightened and turned as Vernon approached him from behind. He had the audacity to look calm while his family was in a state of terror! "What do you think you're doing here, boy," Vernon barked. "Think you can just show up and terrorize us whenever you feel like it, eh?"
"Careful Vernon," Petunia cried, coming into the room but still keeping a good distance. "What if he does something to you?"
"He can't do a bloody thing," Vernon said pointedly, puffing up his chest, "not unless he wants to be expelled." He reached forward and took a firm grip of Harry's shirt collar, to prove his point, ignoring the look of shock it gained from the boy. "You don't want to be expelled from that ruddy school, do you, boy?"
The little monster blinked at him, looking confused and bewildered. The fool—did he honestly think he, Vernon Dursley, would fall for such a simple trick?
"How do you mean, sir," Harry asked, attempting to step back and relieve himself from Vernon's grip.
Vernon couldn't take it any longer. To blazes with the consequences of some crazed lunatic godfather! His hand still firmly gripped on Harry's shirt he shook him, hard. The boy's head was thrown about sharply and a strangled cry rose from his throat.
Petunia let out a horrified screech, her arms flailing about as though to signal her husband to stop, but she didn't seem very willing to take any other physical action to stop him. "Be careful, Vernon," she cried just as Dudley's head peeked into the room, though the rest of him didn't follow, he was chewing on something. "Stay away, darling," Petunia screeched again, fearing for her son's life, "you don't know what he might do!"
"You!" With a free hand Vernon waved one large finger madly in the boy's face. It nearly struck Harry in-between the eyes. "You're plotting something, I know it! Aren't you, boy? Don't try to look innocent, we all known what you are!"
"Vernon, please," Petunia whispered, terrified for her husband, "if Black finds out—"
"What? That GODFATHER of his won't do anything to get himself in prison again, would he?" Then to Harry he said, "Why waste his life on you? I want you OUT of my house this instant! I don't care where you go as long as it's far away from here!"
"No, Vernon," Petunia was shouting. "We can't, we—"
"I DON'T CARE! This little beggar takes too much from us already, and he has the audacity to try and ruin our holiday! I'LL THROW HIM OUT ONTO THE STREETS MYSELF!"
"Unhand me, sir."
Vernon nearly let go out of shock, but quickly recovered and shook the boy once more. How dare this brat speak to him with such disrespect! The boy was here to trick them—to spy on them for his little Wizard friends at that crazy school. But he wouldn't allow this charade to go any further!
He wasn't even sure where it had come from, but all of a sudden Vernon had a thin piece of wood poking him right between the eyes. Petunia screamed.
"I said, unhand me."
He had never heard the boys voice sound so cold and forceful. Different from the other times, where he had spoken in desperation or anger.
As though the boy's words really held some intangible power, Vernon took his hands away as though he had been burnt. Petunia screamed again, backing away against the wall, trying to look smaller than she already was. Vernon saw, far too late, that he had acted too quickly and forcefully, and now the boy had finally snapped!
"N-Now wait a minute, Harry," Vernon said, fear evident in his voice, but had no way of hiding it now. "Think about w-what you're doing—you'll get in trouble with your school, won't you?"
"I think this would be more than worth any penalty," the boy hissed in response, pressing the wand forward so that it poked his in the face. The tip felt unusually hot.
Just then Dudley returned, this time running into the middle of the room. He was really moving this time, his arms flying about, much in the manner of his mother. The exercise alone was making him sweat profusely.
"There are PEOPLE outside," he screamed, turning paler by the second as more sweat poured down his cubby face.
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A few minutes earlier…
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Sirius tapped his foot a few more times, crossing and uncrossing his arms. Merlin, this was boring! Waiting outside in the cold, leaning against a ruddy old van—one just like every other van on the street—and Remus wouldn't even let him take a peek inside. The sun would be completely set soon and it felt like the temperature was steadily dropping.
Remus stood on the other side of the car, Harry at his side. The boy wasn't his usual green-eyed self, though one could hardly tell as the flaps of his oversized coat hide most of his body and face from view.
"How long now do you think?"
Remus "hmm-ed" and looked down once more at the tarnished bronze pocket watch in his hand. It emitted an almost inaudible ticking sound that was too soft to be considered irritating. "Any time now, I think. Are you beginning to feel any different?" Remus leaned over to take a closer look at Harry's face through the jacket. "Hmm, yes, I think I can see a bit of green in your eyes now. And the scar. You know it's very hard to tell the difference between you two sometimes, you look so much alike. I bet the transformation isn't as strenuous as it would be were you to turn into someone else."
Sirius walked back over to their side of the car and hunched forward a bit to look him in the eye. "I'd say so, he's loosing those few inches already now."
Even as he watched, Harry seemed to be getting shorter and shorter, even though to the naked eye it only looked like the boy was simply trying to bury himself further in his coat. It was a freezing December evening, after all.
"I feel a bit sick, actually," Harry said miserably. "I'm familiar with it, though."
Chuckling, Sirius smirked at his godson. "I figured you'd have already had your go with Polyjuice potion, eh? You might have mentioned it once, but I've forgotten all the details." Harry only grinned back in response.
Remus clicked a button on his watch. Silence followed and Remus frowned as Sirius and Harry watched him expectantly. "Hm, that's odd. I was sure that by now things would be getting—"
A distant scream rose faintly from inside the house, high and shrill and terrified.
"Do you think that will catch anyone's attention," Remus asked, anxiously looking around for a moment.
"This house has a bit of a history around here," Harry explained humorlessly. "I think people are used to hearing strange noises by now."
Sirius gave Harry a knowing grin. "Either way it seems the fun has started, eh?"
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Moments later, a familiar animal screech brought his attention upwards into the cold, darkening sky.
Harry watched Hedwig fly in swooping, elegant arches over the rooftops, but not so low as to make anyone too curious. But then again, it was unusual to see a snowy white owl in a place like this. It was even stranger that an owl would be out before nightfall. But it would too strange if the average Muggle were to catch sight of him standing in a driveway with an owl on his arm. Of course they would start getting suspicious, might try coming over to see what he was doing with such an animal...
"Why must he do it this way," Harry asked.
"Well, James always had this unconscious need to make an entrance," Remus explained sadly. "He was always a horrid showoff, and still is, apparently."
"Self-centered twit," Sirius agreed almost pleasantly. "He drove your mother crazy sometimes, Harry."
"You're one to talk," Remus said in a drawling sort of tone, "half the time you were just as horrid as he was."
"It's not like you did much to stop us, Remus," Sirius accused pointedly, but with no amount of real malice.
"Well, we can't always be dwelling on past regrets, can we?"
Harry saw Sirius' lips thin into a thin, straight line and he turned his himself to face the house. Something almost immediately caught his attention. "Oh look, I think the fat one just saw us." He snickered. "He looked terrified. Maybe Tonks and Shacklebolt should have stuck around, our sheer numbers would scare them to death."
Harry jumped up then, looking from window to window, but whomever Sirius had seen was already gone from sight. Harry thought he'd seen the front mail slot swing closed, though. "Which fat one?"
Sirius gestured with his hands, looking as thought he was searching for the correct words. "Not really sure. All I saw were fat fingers sticking out the mail slot."
"It was probably Dudley!" He was tempted to run to the window to see what was happening, but Remus stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
"Now Harry," Remus said, "James wants to do this on his own for now. He wants to find out a few things about... how you lived... and he wants to hear it from them."
"But―"
"Whether James shows up on their doorstep or they are told in advance, it's better that he came while they're unprepared. Otherwise they would have surely done something rash."
Harry didn't see how this would stop the Dursley's from doing something rash now without an advanced warning… But Sirius and Remus weren't idiots, after all. They probably knew exactly how much trouble they could be getting themselves into with all this… "…"
"I hope you aren't feeling sorry for them, Harry," Remus continued, expression grim. "There are some people who are not worthy of forgiveness. Especially for those who feel no remorse for their misdeeds."
"Or," Sirius added with a sneer, "those who think they've done nothing wrong at all."
"I couldn't agree more," Harry muttered.
They all looked toward the house again as another, deeper shriek pierced the air.
Harry almost felt sorry for the Dursleys.
Almost.
Moments after that Remus cast Silencio on the Dursley's home before the screaming caught anyone's attention.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
/... Flashback.../
... A week ago...
James sat heavily in the armchair, weakly staring across the Headmaster's desk to Dumbledore himself. Dumbledore stared right back with an air of grime calm.
"So you see," Dumbledore finished, "Harry remaining with the Dursley's was a necessary evil... Petunia is the only blood relative of Lily's left in this world. Only by staying with her was Harry safe..."
"I had no idea," James mumbled, no longer staring at Dumbledore but through him, lost in thought... 'Lily... you really did protect him, just like you promised... but in such a way...'
"This is a magic even the Dark Lord can't undo," Dumbledore said.
"No, he couldn't, could he...? Old magic… Unbreakable magic..." But no... There was still more... there was more than a blasted blood spell that was an issue here. "But Harry... the way he was treated. Dumbledore, have you heard... All these stories I've heard from Harry… and Sirius and Remus… The Weasley's mentioned a few things as well…"
"Yes," Dumbledore said grimly, "I'm afraid I have..."
"And you did NOTHING?" James brought down his fist painfully upon the Headmaster's desk, hard enough to nearly tip over a lit candlestick. "How could you? You could have DONE something! ANYTHING! You just stood around while he suffered for FIFTEEN YEARS! Alone and unloved in that place!" He gritted his teeth, breathing heavily. "And what good can this spell be in the end if he's kicked out?"
Dumbledore's eyes flashed in response to this. "Kicked out?"
"Don't tell me you didn't know? Harry told me all about the times he's nearly been shoved out into the streets because he dared to open his mouth and behave as a human being should! Cast away for the crime of existing! They are monsters of the worst kind, Dumbledore!"
"I must admit I have heard very little about that…"
"Nothing?" James stared at his disbelievingly. "Nothing at all?"
"Though it may seem hard for you to understand," Dumbledore said, looking in a desk drawer for something, "I am here for Harry to talk to if he needs it… However he has been more inclined to discuss such matters with his godfather and friends rather than myself… Nevertheless…"
Dumbledore was writing something upon a sheet of paper, and James was sure he saw a bit of red paper beneath. "What is that," James asked.
"A Howler," Dumbledore said evenly, though it seemed only a moment had past before he was already finished writing and addressing the envelope.
Without bothering to ask, James reached forward to snatch the paper away.
On the paper was one, simple sentence.
"REMEMBER MY LAST, PETUNIA"
That was all...
"This is all you have to say to them?"
Dumbledore flashed a soft, pleasant smile, and it was all James could do not say something very rash and juvenile that he would probably regret saying later. "It's simple, but I think it will get the point across. You must understand the Dursleys are petrified of anything even relating to magic. The mere whisper of such words sends them into a frenzy. Surely this will send Petunia into a fit of terror."
"That's not good enough."
"What do you suggest I do, then?"
"I want to go there myself, I want to hear it from them, and after that, I don't want my son stepping foot in that horrible place again."
Dumbledore's eyes flashed for a brief moment. "Isn't that risky? After all, they think you're dead."
"Even better."
"James, though coming back from the dead can be considered something unusual in the Wizarding World, for Muggles—"
"He will live with me for now on," James continued, louder this time, as if Dumbledore hadn't spoken at all. "He's my son, and I will take care of him, and... Maybe my blood will have the same effect..."
"James," Dumbledore tried again softly, "the ancient magic which flows through his veins—"
"It's MY blood as well, Albus," James snapped. "MY blood throws through his veins. Maybe it's not good enough, and maybe it won't hold the same power as Petunia's, but I'm the one he should be with, not them!"
Dumbledore had no response to this and only sat back in his chair in a solemn manner, as though accepting defeat.
"I can protect him," James continued, though more to himself now than to Dumbledore this time. "I don't want him living there anymore. I'm willing to take the chance. Never again, Albus! Never!"
/...End Flashback.../
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Several minutes earlier…
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
James could feel the clothes he was wearing tighten ever so slightly. It made no difference though. He'd made sure to change into his much looser clothing before the train stopped at Platform 9 ¾. He twisted at the collar for a moment, adjusting it as his body returned to its proper shape. The queasy sensation in his stomach would pass soon enough.
"W-What," Mr. Dursley barked, backing up but at the same time trying not to look like he was intimidated. He was failing miserably. "S-So what? You've grown a few inches! You think that'll do you any good?" He turned his head towards Dudley, whose face has gone oddly purple. "DUDLEY! Quickly, call the police!"
Moving at a pace similar to a salted slug, Dudley moved. In response, James rolled his eyes and pointed his wand toward the boy.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
With a sense of satisfaction he watched as Dudley's body became stiff, his arms straight at his sides as he toppled backwards. Petunia, recognizing this spell somehow, darted forward even before her son had become entirely rigid and attempted to catch him before he fell.
Petunia only succeeded in crushing herself under her son's weight.
"What a large, beast of a son you managed," James commented dryly to Vernon, who's hand was grasping desperately for the fireplace poker. "I certainly hope he doesn't take after you. The world doesn't need another prejudice, hypocritical blow hard like you."
"Y-You MONSTER!" Vernon had found his grip on the poker finally, but it was obvious he was having some trouble keeping it from slipping from his sweaty, trembling hands. "Release him, Harry, you little monster," he screamed, brandishing the poker as threateningly as he could manage without the weapon completely falling from his hands. "Whatever you've done to him undo it! UNDO IT NOW!"
Feeling that he could indulge the man at least this once, James pointed his wand at the large boy once more and spoke with a calm though decidedly uncaring air.
"Finite Incantatem!"
Dudley's body went completely limp, his arms flopping to his side. Other than that he did not move.
The brat probably fainted before he hit the floor.
Apparently seeing no change in his son's state, Mr. Dursley became increasingly panicked. The boy couldn't be considered dead, for his massive chest and stomach continued to expand and retract as he breathed. "WAKE HIM!" he bellowed, jerking the poker toward James to punctuate each word. "THIS INSTANT!"
"I'm afraid he's fainted," James said uncaringly, turning his nose up at the man. "I don't feel so inclined to wake him for you…"
He wasn't sure if it was the state of Vernon's son or James' outright show of disgust for the other man, but Vernon finally snapped. It was funny to see the man's naturally hideous complexion go completely scarlet and purple all at once. "DAMN YOU!" And Vernon was attacking, poker held high and aimed at James' head. Petunia had let out yet another shrill cry of distress.
"Experlliarmus!"
James had made sure to put a little extra force into that spell. With a brilliant flash of scarlet light the fire poker and Vernon Dursley himself were flung across the room.
Vernon hit the wall with a loud THUD! and the whole room trembled due to the impact. Plaster rained from the walls as it had moments before when James felt his temper slip. The poker embedded itself only about a foot away from the Vernon's skull, half of its length buried deep into the weak plaster wall.
It was clear that the man has lost consciousness long before he hit the floor.
Sniffing disdainfully, James once more turned his nose up in disgust. An Auror half his salt would be able to stand after a hit like that.
After starring for a moment at the prostrate body before him, James chuckled darkly to himself.
"He has me confused for someone else, anyway…"
A noise that was a cross between a squeal and a sob was the only noise that greeted him in response.
Turning slowly on his heel, he faced to the only other standing figure in the room. "Petunia," James growled, hating the way the name sounded coming from his mouth. "You can imagine how… angry I was, after discovering how you have been treating my son this way, all this time. How did you think I would react?"
James smirked as he watched the realization dawn in Petunia's eyes. Her legs must have turned to jelly right beneath her because Petunia suddenly seemed unable to stand, her face displaying disbelief, horror, sickness, and disgust all at once.
"You! It's YOU, but it can't be! IT CAN'T!"
He let out a barking, fearsome laugh as he stalked closer. "Remember my last, Petunia…"
In a matter of moments James loomed over his prey…
s
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
To Be Continued...
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Oh God, people are going to murder me. But believe be when I say this is EXACTLY everything I have finished and done, the next part has holes in it. I swear it!
For everyone's information, at some point I will be sending these chapters through to someone who can edit them for me. I will also be rewriting a lot it, especially this last part. In the future, when Rowling publishes the next book, I might come again and change even more.
Could you guess it? Ron happened upon the Room of Requirement when searching for a place to practice his spell. Was it luck, or did he get help? I guess we'll never know…
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Teasers:
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
"I'm sure you remember Hagrid, don't know?" James unknowingly found himself continuing in a lighter tone, however despite this Petunia's eyes still glazed over with barely repressed disgust, displeasure and no small amount of fright. She was obviously recalling something she would much rather forget entirely. With a colder tone James continued, "He told me about your first meeting… About the lies you spread about us… Lily and I—"
"DON'T!" Petunia's eyes darted around, her head snapping around as if she was expecting something to pop out of nowhere and attack her. "Don't SAY her name! Is SHE here, too?"
"… Would it honestly be so much more terrifying if it was her instead of me…?"
"All of you WIZARDS, you're all wicked! WICKED CREATURES!"
"There are many wicked things in this world, Petunia Dursley," James hissed darkly, "and to take a look at one of those things I suggest you look in the mirror."
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
James began working on Petunia's memories just as Sirius began to work on Dudley's.
"You know what would be one hell of a prank, Sirius?"
Sirius paused in what he was doing to look at James questioningly. "What?"
James first response was a wolfish grin.
A minute of explanation later Sirius was grinning back.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
"Ron... that's the sweetest... though perhaps also the inane thing that anyone has ever done for me..." She blushed shamefully as Ron winced, obviously unsure whether to take that as a complement or an insult. Of course Hermione had meant it as both...
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
"That's not funny at all, Remus."
"I wasn't aware I was trying to be funny."
"Laugh it up, Moony. I'm still not too old to made you regret your words the old fashioned way…"
"Speaking seriously," Remus said suddenly. "Sirius… I know you will ultimately grow to either love or hate your position… but you will need to consider what you will do next year…"
"What do you mean…?"
"You know perfectly well no Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher has ever lasted very long." Remus paused for a long moment, then signed. "I tried coming back, and in such a short time look what happened to me…"
"A coincidence!"
"Coincidence?" Remus met his gaze with a knitted brow. "Perhaps it was all a coincidence, but what if it wasn't? The last professor… Dorrey or whatever his name was… Maybe it was a good thing he left before anything really had a chance to happen."
"Then the end of next term will be my last," Sirius said with a sense of finality, though deep inside the words… hurt… just a little. "And since I won't been there the whole year, what's the worst that could happen?"
"You could die," Remus said bluntly. "It has happened, Sirius."