A Sirius Situation
A Harry Potter Alternate Universe Story
And the sequel to "A Harry Situation," which is posted at
By Jill Weber AKA Jelsemium
All recognizable characters © J. K. Rowling.
Chapter 2: Padfoot Pie
Harry did not receive any owls over the weekend. Hagrid had been teaching him how to whittle, but he was getting tired of making wooden whistles. There was nobody to try the twins' tricks on. Hogwarts didn't have television (of course), and he had finished all his Quidditch magazines. By mid-morning on Tuesday, July 16, Harry was bored enough to read Hogwarts, A History.
Well, almost bored enough to read it. He skimmed through the pages trying to find references to hidden passageways or the Chamber of Secrets.
School had been out for almost a month. Everyone else his year was preparing for the shock (good or bad) of O.W.L. results. Thanks to a close encounter with a dragon, Harry had not been able to sit his Ordinary Wizarding Levels. Thanks to some fancy footwork by his professors – including Professor Dustine Binns, of all people – Harry had some Honorary O.W.L.s that would permit him to continue school.
Unfortunately, an Honorary O.W.L. only counted as an 'A' (Acceptable). There were some N.E.W.T. classes that he couldn't take if he didn't have an 'E' (Exceeds Expectations) or even an 'O' (Outstanding). He needed an 'E' for Transfiguration. Snape refused to take any student with less than an 'O' in Potions, not that Harry intended to continue taking Potions.
In fact, the only high point of the last year… aside from being kissed by Ginny Weasley… was that every minute of the unholy amount of the time that he'd spent in the Hospital Wing was time he had not spent in Snape's presence. One of the things that kept him from going utterly spare now was the fact that he would never have to set foot in Snape's disgusting dungeon or endure Snape's snide comments or, if he timed his meals right, even look at Snape's ugly face again.
However, there was no telling what the next Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher would require. Come to think of it, Snape still wanted that job.
One of Harry's recurring nightmares involved Snape actually persuading Dumbledore to give him his long coveted position. That would mean that Harry would probably have to get at least an E, (or more likely, an O) to get in to this very-necessary-to-his-future class. He shuddered at the thought of putting up with Snape for another two years.
He picked up his Charms Practice O.W.L. and leafed through it. On the surface, an extra two months to study might seem to give him an advantage. However, having one's head bounced against a stone wall is not beneficial to one's short-term memory. Harry was beginning to feel anxious every time he tried to take a practice O.W.L.
He was beginning to understand how Hermione felt when she started urging them to study for a test that was, well, two months away.
The very idea of thinking like Hermione was enough to make him want to crawl under the bed. That is, when he wasn't busy heartily (and sincerely) wishing that Hermione was there to help him study. He wondered if he could hire her as a tutor.
Not only would she be a tremendous help, it would be great to be able to talk to somebody who wasn't groveling or grumbling. Madam Pomfrey was kind, but it was obvious that she'd rather be somewhere else. (Frankly, Harry couldn't blame her; he didn't want to be there, either.) Dobby the house-elf was doing his best to be helpful, but he had a tendency to gush and fuss at Harry.
The door to the Hospital Wing creaked open and Harry sat up straighter. Any visitor short of Snape or Voldemort would be welcome at this point. (Harry wouldn't even have minded seeing the Dursleys, he was that bored.)
A dark, doggy nose poked around the door and Harry began to grin.
The doggy nose quivered.
Harry let out a bark. "I'm awake, Snuffles."
The doggy nose disappeared. The door finished opening and Sirius strode in. "Really, Harry, you have to be more careful…" His stern, fatherly lecture was interrupted by the unexpected arrival of a fluffy white, lemon-scented pie. For the second time that day, Sirius sat down abruptly.
A jolt of pain ran up his spine from his already sore tailbone. Startled and embarrassed, Sirius swore as he wiped the creamy filling out of his eyes. Then he gave his godson a ferocious look.
Harry began to regret giving in to impulse. "Erm, so, do you like the Twin's newest trick? It's based on an old Muggle joke…" he was babbling as Sirius approached him.
Sirius was looming over him, now, dripping foam onto Harry's bed.
"Harry, my boy," he said in a dangerously quiet voice.
"It's a shaving cream pie… It was your idea, remember?" Harry said trying to inch away from the ominous expression on Sirius' face.
"I mentioned shaving cream pies as substitute for real pies," Sirius said. "In an attempt to trick me into eating one."
"Oh, well, the pie in the face gag is a classic… at least, in the Muggle world. They really love it. Fred and George hadn't even heard of it, but they loved the idea when I mentioned it to them."
"I'm sure they did," Sirius growled.
"They're self-propelled, face-seeking pies," Harry added. "They start off the size of a Knut and then expand…" The look on Sirius' face robbed him of his voice.
"You've forgotten the first rule of pranking," Sirius continued in that gently ominous manner.
"Erm…" Harry managed.
"Always have an escape route arranged before you play a prank," Sirius said. He leaned over Harry, placing his hands on either side of the boy. Shaving cream dripped plastered his long, black hair against his gaunt face, giving him a lean and hungry look. His sinister grin made him look as homicidal as his reputation.
A dollop of foam plopped onto Harry's nose. "Eep."
"Now I'm going to have to teach you…"
"MR. BLACK!" bellowed a startled Poppy Pomfrey.
Sirius jumped back guiltily, changing into the giant canine known as Padfoot (among other things.) It was fortunate for him that the altitude of his head went from human height to dog height, because he narrowly missed being hexed.
Harry jumped, too. He shrank down and burrowed under his blankets.
Madam Pomfrey glared at the cat-sized lump. "Mr. Potter! Back into human form! Now!"
The blankets twisted and the lump under them lengthened.
Madam Pomfrey glared at Padfoot. "You wicked, vile…" She raised her wand threateningly.
Padfoot whimpered, flattened himself on the floor and looked up to Poppy Pomfrey's face with the saddest, most put-upon expression ever to cross a canine visage.
Naturally, Poppy melted like a quart of Florian Fortescue's Raspberry Fudge Ripple that had been hit with an Infernus hex.
"You bad dog!" she said sternly, but with a note of fondness in her voice.
Padfoot, sensing a weakness in her armor, thumped his tail and made puppy eyes like mad.
It was somewhat overdone. Madam Pomfrey had to laugh, though. She shook her head at him, relieved to have Sirius back as the charming prankster rather than stalking the corridors as a mad wand murderer. Then she sobered a bit, as she wasn't sure how he'd take her announcement. "You'd better stay as you are, Snuffles. Mr. Potter has a visitor."
Harry cautiously pulled himself out of hiding.
Padfoot sat up; ears cocking forward, alarmingly large teeth becoming visible in what was not a grin, doggy or otherwise.
"The Headmaster has approved of this visit, so don't get hostile," she said.
"Who is it?" Harry wanted to know.
"Mr. Ollivander, from Ollivander's Fine Wands," Madam Pomfrey replied. "The Headmaster is having a chat with him. They'll be dropping by in half an hour or so. Headmaster Dumbledore wanted to be sure that you had enough time to make yourself presentable."
Dumbledore also give the visitor a chance to betray himself, should this turn out to be some hostile wizard impersonating Mr. Ollivander. The Polyjuice potion that allowed one wizard to take on the form of another wizard only lasted for an hour.
Nobody said that, but the thought crossed the minds of at least two of the people present. Harry wasn't sure if Madam Pomfrey was paranoid enough to think of things like that.
"Mr. Ollivander must be here to deliver my mum's wand," Harry said, suddenly remembering.
Padfoot looked at him with wide eyes. Then the dog began to pace.
"Sit boy! Stay!" Pomfrey said. She cocked her head at Harry. "What's this about your mother's wand?"
"I found her first wand in a trunk that she'd left with my Aunt Petunia," Harry explained. "It… the trunk I mean, had an aversion charm cast on it so my Aunt and Uncle wouldn't poke around in the trunk. The charm also made them forget about the trunk entirely. I found it last summer, when I was helping my aunt clean out the attic. It had a lot of my mother's stuff in it… like these sham pillows."
Harry gestured at the pillows behind his head.
"Ah, I remember those," Madam Pomfrey said with approval. "Your mother took an old charm and improved on it. She made it so the charm was intrinsic to the item, so that Muggle students didn't have to cast it and risk getting in trouble for practicing magic outside of school. With it, the Muggle students could pack or store bulky items, such as blankets or cloaks…"
"Or pillows," Harry said.
"Indeed," Madam Pomfrey nodded. "I believe she had a patent on that charm, too. I expect that her estate still receives royalties from those pillows."
"Oh!" Harry was startled. He hadn't really thought about where his money was coming from. In fact, it hadn't occurred to him that money might still be going into his account. He had assumed that he was living off a fixed amount of money and that he needed to be careful.
"I wonder if there's any other money being added to my account," he mused.
Padfoot gave out a hearty "Woof!" and wagged his tail.
"Was that a 'Yes' bark or a 'No' bark?" Harry asked the nurse.
Madam Pomfrey shrugged. "I wouldn't know," she said. "And I wouldn't expect Snuffles to know much about your finances, you'd have to talk to an accountant about that."
Padfoot gave another bark, whether in protest because she kept calling him "Snuffles" or because she didn't believe he knew about the Potter's finances, Harry couldn't say. He'd have to wait to find out, too. He sighed. Well, at least he wasn't bored anymore.
Now, do you need my help in cleaning up this mess before your guest arrives?" Madam Pomfrey eyed the splattered bits of lemon-scented shaving cream with a sniff of disapproval.
"No, Madam Pomfrey," Harry said hastily. "I can clean this up myself."
Padfoot woofed a protest.
"It's not like cleaning charms are difficult," Harry said. "Ginny taught me this one." He waved his wand. "Scourgify!"
The lemony shaving cream rearranged itself from random splatters to letters. The letters formed themselves into words. The finished message read: "You didn't really think it would be that easy to get rid of this, did you? – Love and Flying Pies, Gred and Forge."
The bits of foam then began to dance across the floor, singing "Lemon tree, very pretty, and the flowers smell so sweet. But the fruit of the poor lemon tree is impossible to beat!"
Padfoot made a peculiar choking noise. It a human, it might have been a stifled laugh.
Madam Pomfrey kept a straight face, somehow.
"Well, I might need a bit of help at that," Harry sighed.
XXX XXX XXX
Author's Notes:
I haven't recovered from NaNoWriMo yet, I keep running the word counter every other paragraph! (2,144 on this chapter, including author's notes.)
Malach: Thanks, I hope this lives up to your expectations!
Everpresent: Thanks! Your lovely comments are one of the reasons I was determined to write this. Glad I made you happy!
Annikaya: Thanks! Hope you find this amusing, too!
Andrea13: Hello, again! I'm so glad you came back for round two! Thanks for saying what parts you particularly liked.
Hi, Alla! Thanks for dropping by! (Don't scream in your office, I'd hate to get banned. ;)
Chance Light: Thanks for the kind words! I'm glad you liked "A Harry Situation" enough to stop by to check out the sequel!
Crystal Blue: Thanks! I can't guarantee that all updates will be this fast, but I have quite a bit of this story written, and I have some catching up to do.