Harry wasn't the only one who fell asleep— both Ron and Regulus dozed a little, too, Ron leaning against his older brother and Regulus with his tail flipped over his nose. Sirius didn't quite understand how Regulus could sleep, but after about an hour even he gave up on his pacing and lay down with his head on his paws, still very much awake.

No sooner had he done so than the shouting started. Sirius vaguely recognized both voices— Minerva McGonagall's and Cornelius Fudge's. They were approaching, getting louder and clearer until Sirius was straining his pointed ears, sure that any minute he'd be able to hear the words. Ron jerked out of his doze as they came closer; Regulus remained curled in his ball, but his left ear pricked up, so Sirius knew he was paying attention, and Mrs. Weasley got to her feet. "They'll wake him up if they keep at it," she hissed.

"The incident is certainly regrettable, but all the same, Minerva—"

"You should never have brought it inside the castle! When Professor Dumbledore finds out—"

Before McGonagall could finish her sentence, the door burst open and Cornelius Fudge came storming in. He moved like a fury and his face was set in a grim line, but Sirius could smell the shock and fear. McGonagall strode in after him, equally furious and visibly shaken. Snape trailed behind the both of him, looking as vindictive as ever but perhaps a bit paler than usual.

"Where's Dumbledore?" Fudge demanded.

Mrs. Weasley drew herself up angrily, and to Sirius it looked as though she would be a match for the deputy headmistress in her indignance. "He's not here. This is a hospital wing, Minister, don't you think you'd be better to—"

But before she could work herself into a tirade, Dumbledore opened the door and swept in. "What has happened?" he asked, looking from one intruder to the other. "Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I'm surprised at you— I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch—"

"There's no need to anymore!" Professor McGonagall cried, nearly hysterical. "The minister has seen to that!"

Snape's eyes flicked over to her a little nervously, and Sirius remembered some of the teenager in that— Snape had never liked scenes unless they were the reason he was being ignored. He turned to Dumbledore and spoke tersely to him, ignoring events in the rest of the room. "When we told Mr. Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible fir tonight's events, he seemed to feel his personal safety was in question. He insisted on summoning a dementor to accompany him into the castle. He brought it up to the office where Barty Crouch—"

"I told him you would not approve, Headmaster!" Professor McGonagall cried, still furious. "I told him you would never allow dementors to set foot inside the castle, but—"

"My dear woman!" Fudge interrupted angirly. "As Minister of Magic, it is my right to decide whether or not to bring protection along when I interview a possibly dangerous—"

"When that— that thing entered the room Crouch was in," McGonagall continued, absolutely bent on having her say in the explanation, "it swooped down on him, and— and—"

Sirius felt his hackles rising involuntarily and with horror rather than anger. She'd said enough to know it had administered the Dementor's Kiss. Foul though Crouch was . . . it had almost happened to him, and it was a terrible way to go. Death was sufficient.

"Well, assuredly he is no loss!" Fudge exclaimed, clearly trying to cover his tracks. "From what I understand, he was responsible for several deaths!"

"Yes, but now he can no longer give testimony," Dumbledore explained quietly. "He cannot give evidence as to why he killed these people."

"Well, that's no puzzle, really, is it?" Fudge asked. "He was clearly a raving lunatic! From what Minerva and Severus had told me, he seems to believe he was following You-Know-Who's instructions."

"He was following Lord Voldemort's instructions, Cornelius," Dumbledore explained. "These deaths were a mere by-product of a plan to restore Lord Voldemort to power once again. That plan has succeeded. Lord Voldemort rose again tonight."

It was as if someone had hit Fudge with a sledgehammer, leaving him dazed and gibbering. In any other circumstance, Sirius might have been amused, but now he was merely annoyed.

"You-Know-Who . . . returned?" Fudge asked. "Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore. . . ."

"As Severus and Minerva have no doubt informed you, we heard Barty Crouch confess," Dumbledore informed him. There wasn't even an edge to his voice. His patience astounded Sirius— this was the point at which e would have hexed Fudge into next Wednesday and dealt with him later. "Under the influence of Veritaserum, he told us how he was smuggled out of Azkaban, and how Voldemort, learning of his continued existence from Bertha Jorkins— went to free him from his father. The plan worked, I tell you. Crouch has helped Voldemort to return."

Fudge stared at him for a moment as though dumbstruck. Then his face broke into a slight, derisive smile. "Come now, Dumbledore. . . you— you can't seriously believe that. See here . . . Crouch might have certainly believed he was acting on You-Know-Who's orders— but to take the word of a lunatic like that. . . ."

Sirius heard Regulus make a sound somewhere between a derisive snort and a growl. Regulus's head was up now, staring at Fudge, and he was on his feet.

"When Harry touched the Triwizard Cup, he was transported straight to Voldemort," Dumbledore answered. "He witnessed Lord Voldemort's rebirth. I will explain it all to you, if you will step into my office." He glanced over at Harry, who was sitting up in bed, watching the drama unfold, "I'm afraid I cannot permit you to question Harry tonight."

Fudge looked mildly amused. "You are . . . er . . . prepared to take Harry's word on this, are you, Dumbledore?"

Sirius snarled, seriously considering the option of taking a bite out of the Minister. He had half expected Regulus to join him, but when he glanced beside him, the fox was nowhere to be found.

"Of course I believe Harry," Dumbledore answered simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I witnessed Crouch's confession, and heard Harry's account of what happened after he touched the Triwizard Cup. The two stories make sense, and they explain everything that has happened since Bertha Jorkin's disappeared last summer."

Fudge's eyes flicked over to Harry. "You're willing to believe that You-Know-Who has returned on the word of a lunatic murderer, and a boy who, well. . . ."

His eyes lingered on Harry for another long moment.

"You've been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr. Fudge," Harry said quietly.

Fudge stared at him for a moment in surprise and a little embarrassment, before his face hardened obstinately. "So what if I have? If I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about the boy very quiet? A Parselmouth, eh? And having funny turns all over the place—"

"I assume you are referring to the pains Harry has been experiencing in his scar?" Dumbledore asked, quite complacently.

"So you admit that he's been having these pains?" Fudge demanded, as though certain he'd backed Dumbledore into a corner. "Headaches? Nightmares? Possibly hallucinations?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Listen to me, Cornelius— Harry is as sane as you or I. The scar on his forehead has not addled his brains. I believe it hurts him whenever Lord Voldemort is close by, or feeling particularly murderous."

He stepped closer, and Fudge took another step backwards, but he still looked unconvinced. "I've never heard of a curse scar acting as an alarm bell before—"

"Look I saw Voldemort return!" Harry exclaimed, trying to get up. Molly Weasley, however, seized him and held him back in bed. "I saw the Death Eaters! I can give you their names—"

But every name Harry gave— and Sirius would have bet his life, even if he hadn't known Harry was there, that they were all accurate— Fudge dismissed.

Dumbledore interrupted this useless battle with instructions for Fudge, things he ought to do now that Voldemort had returned— putting more than dementors on guard in Azkaban, or trying to make allies of the giants. Fudge dismissed these with even more fervor than he had Harry's list of names. While Sirius kept his mouth shut, he could feel the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. He'd known Fudge was a bungler, but he hadn't realized he was this much of an idiot.

Finally, as though trying to keep the peace, Dumbledore finally told Fudge that each should act as they saw fit. To Sirius's admiration, there was still no trace of impatience in his voice, but Fudge drew back as if he'd been threatened.

"Now, see here, Dumbledore," he answered, balling his fists in anger, "I've given you pretty free reign to run this school— not many ministers would let you hire werewolves and half-giants, or decide what to teach without reference to the Ministry. But if you're going to work against me—"

"The only person I intend to work against," Dumbledore answered quietly, "is Lord Voldemort. If you are also against him, Cornelius, then we remain, as always, on the same side."

Fudge stared at him for a moment, and for the first time the fear showed through the fury. "He can't be back, Dumbledore, he just can't be. . . ."

At this point, Snape lost his patience with the minister, drew up his left sleeve, and shoved the Dark Mark into Fudge's face. Knowing the way Regulus had reacted to its return, Sirius wasn't surprised that the denial was what finally made Snape snap, and convinced him to explain exactly what the thing meant in that harsh voice.

Fudge recoiled from the Potions Master with a look of horror intermingled with anger. "I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I will be in touch with you tomorrow to discuss the running of this school." And with that, he strode out the door.

Sirius was willing to bet that he and possibly Dumbledore were the only ones to see the little fox scurry past Fudge just before he slammed the door. Regulus skidded to a stop and sat down beside his brother, and Sirius could feel him shaking slightly beside him— whether Regulus was simply panting hard from the sprint or if whatever he'd left the room to take a look at had actually frightened him, Sirius didn't know.

Dumbledore's eyes lingered on the slammed door for a moment before he shook his head and turned back to the group gathered about the hospital wing. "There is still work to be done," he announced. "Molly . . . am I right in thinking I can count on you and Arthur?"

She nodded. "Of course. We know what Fudge is. It's only his love for Muggles that has held Arthur back all these years. Fudge thinks he lacks proper wizarding pride."

"Then I need to send a message to Arthur," Dumbledore murmured. "All those that can be persuaded of the truth should be notified immediately, and Arthur is well-placed to speak to those in the Ministry not as short-sighted as Cornelius."

The eldest Weasley son— Sirius tried and failed to remember if he knew the boy's name— stood up. "I'll go to Dad," he announced. "I'll go right now."

Excellent," Dumbledore answered, nodding. "Tell him what happened, and that I will be in direct contact with him as soon as possible. He will need to be discreet, however. If Fudge thinks I am interfering at the Ministry. . . ."

"Leave it to me," the boy answered. He grasped Harry's shoulder briefly, kissed his mother on the cheek, grabbed his cloak and swept out the door after Fudge.

Dumbledore nodded sedately again. "Minerva," he added to McGonagall, "I want to see Hagrid in my office as soon as possible. And if she will agree to come also— Madame Maxime."

Professor McGonagall nodded silently and left.

Dumbledore then turned to Madame Pomfrey. "Poppy, if you would be so kind as to go down to Professor Moody's office, where you should find a house-elf called Winky in considerable distress? Do what you can for her, then take her to the kitchens, where I think Dobby will look after her for us."

Startled, the nurse nodded. "Very— very well," she answered, and left.

Dumbledore made sure that the door was closed and turned back to the remaining group. Sirius realized with a start that, with the exception of Snape and Molly Weasley, it had been narrowed down to the people who knew what he was. "Now, it is time for a few of our number to recognize each other for what they are. Sirius, if you and your brother would resume your usual forms."

Sirius glanced up at him, realizing that he'd half-consciously expected this, and both he and Regulus shot up into human form.

Molly Weasley leapt back from Harry's bed with a muffled shriek. "Sirius Black!" she shouted, pointing at him.

"Mum, shut up! It's all right!" Ron shouted, reaching out to steady her before she fell over.

Snape had done neither, although he had stiffened visibly, and stared at Sirius and Regulus alike with shock and fury. "Him!" he exclaimed, turning back to Dumbledore. "What is he doing here?"

Sirius scowled back at Snape and raised an eyebrow.

"He is here at my invitation," Dumbledore answered quietly. "As are you, Severus. I hold that it is time for you to lay aside our differences and trust each other."

Snape's beady black gaze turned on Sirius again, eyeing him with the same look he might give a rack— the standby look when they'd been in school. Sirius matched him glare for glare, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Regulus bury his head in is hands and mutter something that began with the word "idiots."

Dumbledore's patience seemed to be wearing thin at long last. "I will settle, in the short term, for a lack of open hostility, then," he announced. "You will shake hands. You are on the same side, now, and unless the few of us who know the truth stand united, there is no hope for any of us."

Sirius recognized the tone as that of an order rather than a suggestion and grudgingly extended a hand. Snape apparently didn't know whether to direct his rancor at Dumbledore or him, and glowered menacingly at the floor as he took it. Regulus, still with his face buried exasperatedly in his hands, had just enough time to mutter some other slightly degrading comment before both broke away and wiped their hands on their shirts.

Dumbledore stepped between them, aware that the lack of argument would be short lived if he didn't. "Now, I have work for the both of you," he announced briskly. "Fudge's attitude, while not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, Regulus, I need you to set off at once. You are to alert Remus Lupin, Mundungus Fletcher, Arabella Figg— the old crowd. Lie low at Remus's for awhile— I will contact you there."

"But—" Harry started.

Sirius turned to him, smiling slightly. "We'll see each other again very soon, Harry," he promised the boy. But I must do what I can. You understand, don't you?"

"Yeah. . . ." Harry answered, although he still sounded reluctant. "Yeah, of course I do."

Sirius squeezed his hand and Regulus nodded to him before the two transformed yet again. Sirius opened the hospital wing door with a paw and both of them disappeared out of it.

Author's Note: All right, obviously Dumbledore and Fudge's conversation needs to be disclaimed--- there just wasn't much I could do with it. Everything outside the dialogue tags is, as always, mine, of course. And I actually have the last chapter written! Hopefully I will revise it and start on 1995 soon. Also thanks to some confusion, I'm going back and changing every refeence to the "canines" in the last chapter to the dog and fox; the "dogs" is there because both Madame Pomfrey and McGonagall mistook Regulus for one. Thanks for pointing it out; I'm sorry about the confusion! And onto reviews: xtotallyatpeacex: Sirius told Dumbledore that he and Regulus were animaguses at the end of 1993; I believe in chapter 16. Mizz Mooney Luver: Yeah, my reaction would've been in sync with Molly's, too. Until next (and final) chapter,Cheers! --- Loki