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Chapter Four: Wink, Smile, Laugh
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"By the way, I'm Professor Eraque. I'll be teaching Care of Magical Creatures for part of the year. Thank you again." Then she was gone.
I grinned as well as a dog could. Then I stood up and began to bound around the compartment. I was so excited, I didn't care if I made a fool of myself.
"Snuffles, are you okay?" Harry asked. I barked quietly, and went back to my jumping.
"You know," Neville Longbottom said. "That has to be the strangest dog I've ever met. Harry, I don't think I could stand having him around all the time. He's not going to be staying in the dormitory, is he?"
"No," Harry said. "He's got business with Dumbledore, and I'm just bringing him along. We probably won't see much of him once we get to Hogwarts."
"Good," Neville said. "He's slightly large to live with us. And a little excitable."
"He's always been like this."
"Oh. You know, his name doesn't really fit. Snuffles?"
"We call him Dogbreath normally."
"That's even worse, poor thing." I bounded over to Neville and licked his face, one swipe with my tongue, from chin to hairline. "Ack!" The boy wiped his face with the end of his sleeve. "No, Dogbreath fits…phoo. You should try cleaning his teeth sometime, Harry. That's supposed to improve their breath."
I looked at Harry and he looked at me. We both burst out laughing. (I wasn't really laughing exactly, but you get the idea.) Poor Neville didn't understand at all why we were laughing, and Harry couldn't explain that I was perfectly capable of brushing my own teeth and did so every morning and evening.
Slowly, the train made its way out of Muggle farmlands and into the wild moors. I was finding it harder and harder to wait until we got to Hogwarts to speak with Renee. Although I couldn't do that until after the Welcome Feast, probably. It was slowly grating on my nerves, and I became less excited and more susceptible to growling. I really wanted to see her.
Finally the train pulled into the Hogsmeade station. I gave Ron, Hermione and Ginny each a lick, and rested my head on Harry's knee. I gave each of them a grave look, and hoped I'd gotten the message of Be Careful across. Then I raced out of the compartment and off the train before anyone else had disembarked, effectively avoiding anyone who might know of the 'Great Disguise'. I tried desperately not to scare the Thestrals as I passed by on my way up to the castle. I ran up the steps to the oak doors and found one slightly ajar. I shoved it open and entered. It wasn't raining, but I shook my coat out anyway—it was habit adopted over the years.
"Ah, Snuffles," Professor McGonagall was walking towards me; her eyes twinkled slightly as she used the nickname that had become Harry's code word if there were others listening to the conversation. I barked sullenly at her. "None of that now, Dogbreath." The use of James' insult-between-friends-name made her eyes twinkle more. This had to be the closest she'd come to laughing—excluding the time when Professor Slughorn had sent her a recording of my blistering speech to him—in front of his class—about why he should not be prejudiced and how bad his behavior to Muggle-borns had been, which was in sixth year, when she actually had laughed.
"Professor Dumbledore wishes to speak with you in here," she said, opening a door off the Entrance Hall. I padded into the room and looked around. I shuddered as I was reminded of the first time I had ever had a meeting with Dumbledore. It had been in this chamber, not his office. The reason he had given was that his office was in shambles after a Dueling Club meeting he had hosted that summer. But I knew the real reason. Dumbledore had wanted a soundproof room for that meeting—my mother had been present.
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"Mr. Black, the Headmaster wants you," Filch's voice sounded right behind Sirius. He'd never get used to it. It was his first full day at school and he realized at once that no matter how many times the old caretaker did that, he'd never get used to it.
"Why?" Sirius asked.
"He didn't tell me. He just said to bring you. Come on." Filch practically dragged the eleven-year-old away from his breakfast.
"Done something already, Cousin?" Bellatrix spat from her seat among the third year Slytherins as he passed. "I didn't expect you to get into trouble so quickly…why you've only been here one night! I didn't expect that even from you."
"Bella, if you don't shut your trap, I'm gonna shut it for you," he said.
"As if you could." Sirius ignored this except to make a not-so-nice hand gesture at his cousin. Filch dragged him away into the Entrance Hall and opened a door that led to one of the many antechambers.
"Here he is, Headmaster," he wheezed.
"Thank you, Argus. You may leave now." Sirius was roughly shoved into the room and the door closed behind him. He immediately saw—or rather, heard—why he'd been summoned.
"YOU!" his mother screamed at the sight of him. "YOU—YOU—I DON'T BELIEVE YOU!"
"Now, now, Sylvia. Calm down," Sirius's father said. He was always calm during his wife's outbursts. But Sirius could see, in the way his father held himself, the way his voice hissed through his teeth, that the man was just as angry as his wife. "I'm sure it's all a misunderstanding."
"MISUNDERSTANDING MY HAT!" (Though the actual word had not been 'hat') "I DEMAND AN EXPLAINATION, YOU OLD FOOL!" The last comment had been directed at Dumbledore, who had continued to stand behind the small table, quite calm. Sirius was shocked that his mother would even dare to think of calling the greatest wizard of the time an 'old fool' let alone actually say it to his face.
"I have nothing to do with this, Sylvia," Dumbledore said. "The Sorting Hat placed your son in Gryffindor, not me. I'm sure it had its reasons."
"THAT, YOU IDIOT, IS NOT AN EXPLAINATION! THAT IS A FOOLISH STORY CONCOCTED BY AN OLD CRAZY LOON!!! GIVE ME ANSWERS!!! AND IF IT REALLY IS THAT OLD BASTARD HAT'S FAULT, GET IT IN HERE SO THAT I MAY BLAST IT TO SMITEREENS!!!!!"
Sylvia Black was now completely out of control. She was spitting furiously and he eyes bulged. Sirius began to wonder if she was going to explode.
"I'm sorry, madam," Dumbledore said. "I can not have you—er—blasting the Sorting Hat to smithereens. I can, however, possibly make an exception to the rules."
"Which rules, Dumbledore?" Henry Black asked through still-clenched teeth. Sirius could now see that Henry was on the edge of blowing up himself and he got ready to cover his ears for when his father started screaming as loudly as his mother.
"The rules that state that the Sorting Hat has the final say," the Headmaster said, still calm and quiet. "If Sirius chooses, he will be allowed to switch his House from Gryffindor to Slytherin. If he chooses."
"He will switch his House," Henry said. "He has no say in the matter. Move his things to Slytherins' dorms this instant."
"Ahem," Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Actually, Sirius has the only say in this matter. It is not up to you or Sylvia, Henry. Sirius? What is your decision?"
Sirius looked at Dumbledore, hardly believing his ears. He didn't have to go into Slytherin! It was all his choice. He could put his head down and carry his tail between his legs and head for Slytherin, and give in to his parents again. But if he did that now, he would continue doing that again and again, until every decision was not his own. Or he could boldly raise his head and wag his tail and stick to Gryffindor. That was, after all, where the Sorting Hat placed him. And if the Sorting Hat thought he belonged there, then he belonged there. He looked away from Dumbledore.
His mother caught his eye and gave him a look that spoke louder than any screaming that if he did not choose Slytherin he would not live another day as part of the Black Family. In fact, he would not live another day period. He knew every curse, hex, or jinx she could throw at him. There was a whole list posted in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. The list listed each and every curse that Sylvia Black would place on the house's servants if anything went wrong. Sirius had unfortunately been present at one too many of her examples to not know the effects of the curses. Now, her eyes told him that not only one, but all of them would be placed upon him if he chose to stay in Gryffindor. A glance at his father said that Henry agreed with Sylvia wholeheartedly.
"Well," he started, carefully looking at neither of his parents. "The Sorting Hat considered putting me in Slytherin, but it told me that was far too much like following the crowd. Then it suggested Ravenclaw, but said that that House wasn't rebellious enough for my nature. It skipped right over Hufflepuff and stuck me in Gryffindor. And…I agree with it about Ravenclaw. The Ravenclaws are all too smart and studious for me. I need to get into a little bit of trouble now and then. And frankly, I don't like the idea of being in Slytherin simply because every single one of them hates me already, and I hate them…so I think I'll stick with Gryffindor."
Dumbledore smiled. "You've made a good choice, Sirius. Now I believe if you do not hurry, you shall be late for Transfiguration." The Headmaster winked and gave the first year a look that said clearly 'I'll handle these two.' Sirius smiled back and made his escape while his mother was still speechless. As soon as he exited she found her voice.
"SIRIUS ERIK BLACK!!! GET BACK IN HERE!!! I'M NOWHERE NEAR FINISHED WITH YOU! YOU HAVE DEFIED ME, YOU HAVE BETRAYED ME! YOU HAVE NO PLACE IN OUR FAMILY! YOU—" Her voice was cut off as the door swung shut. Sirius breathed a deep sigh of relief and went off to see if Remus Lupin, a boy he'd met on the train, had found his way to Transfiguration yet.
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I now entered that same room, but this time I was glad to enter it, not angry about being taken from breakfast. The 'meeting' with my parents had not been the last time I'd used the soundproof room before graduating Hogwarts. I'd used it often, in fact, every time I received a Howler from my dear sweet mum I'd asked the owl why it hadn't dropped the red letter in the lake and the bolted into the room to drop it in and leave. I never actually listened to the Howlers. They only said crap anyway.
As I entered I found Dumbledore seated at the same small table he'd been at that first day. I transformed and grinned.
"Hello, Sirius."
"Hello, Professor. You do know that I appreciate this more then anything?"
"Yes, I thought you might feel that way. Sit down, Sirius, and I will explain," Dumbledore said. "I did not bring you here only because of your wishes to leave Headquarters. Though that did, I'm afraid, have something to do with it. We were all a wee bit tired of your sulking. I do hope you understand." I nodded, grinning sheepishly. I hadn't been on my best behavior, and I knew it. I spent more time alone or sulking, complaining or griping. And I knew it was getting on everyone's nerves, but when I tried to stop, it only made it worse.
"We understand why you felt like that," Dumbledore continued. "But we also thought you better here—for more than that reason. Some of us wanted to leave you there in your misery—" the look he gave me warned me not to say anything, but I'd already guessed that he meant Snape. "—while others wanted to send you out to recruit for the Order. I gently reminded them that you were known as a murderer in most wizarding communities, and, therefore, can not go recruiting. We finally settled on bringing you here. You have new orders."
"You mean they aren't 'stay inside, don't do anything rash, do not be seen' anymore?" I asked eagerly.
"Well, no. That's still part of it. Mad-Eye has been kind enough to give you this." The Professor held out an Invisibility Cloak. "And Harry decided this belongs to you more than to him." He handed me a blank sheet of parchment. I stared at it for a moment, and then looked closer at it, noticing the frayed edges, small tears, and numerous creases. I flipped it over and tapped it once with my wand. In each corner a letter appeared. P, P, M, and W. I smiled, and turned it right-side-up.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," I muttered, touching the parchment with my wand. Thin lines appeared on the surface in green ink. Slowly they formed a magical map of the entire school, complete with secret passageways, unidentified rooms, and (the best feature) tiny dots representing every single person, with labels. Across the top these words were written:
Messers. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief- Makers are proud to present: The Marauder's Map.
I smiled looking at these. The Marauder's Map had to have been our (James, Remus, Peter, and I) greatest creation. We'd chiefly used it for sneaking to the kitchen at night, and playing pranks on people. But we'd also used it for something far more important: every month, James, Peter and I would sneak out of the castle under James' Invisibility Cloak, down to the Shrieking Shack to help Remus while he was in his werewolf form. We used the Map to make sure nobody followed us, or that we ran into anyone. We figured that the only person who knew the school, grounds, and Hogsmeade better than the four of us was Dumbledore.
"Thank you, sir," I said. "And I promise to thank Mad-Eye the next time I see him. But why are you giving me these?"
"To protect Harry."
"What?" I was seriously confused. I understood that Harry might be sustaining attacks all year, but he was at Hogwarts now. Wasn't that all the protection he needed? Now that he was under Dumbledore's nose (along with McGonagall and a few others in the Order) wouldn't he be safe?
"I need you," Dumbledore said heavily, "to use the Invisibility Cloak and the Map to watch and tail Harry everywhere he goes. He may need your Dueling skills at any time, and I figured you should be close. Also, if you are here, you are not a target for Voldemort."
"I wasn't one at headquarters either," I commented grimly. "You are Secret-Keeper. No one can know where to find me."
"But that's the thing, Sirius," he said. "The Enemy knows you are out there. He's going to try to kill you eventually. You are too great a threat to him, even with all the murderer business. And he needs you out of the way to get to Harry. He knows we've been keeping you at Headquarters—or at least, he knows you're not in Tibet—" I laughed at that. Kingsly had been feeding the Ministry information that I was hiding in Tibet to escape them. "—if he thinks you're still in hiding, he will continue looking for you in all the wrong places. He won't even think of looking here, as he does not think I would risk one of his underlings' sons or daughters seeing you and reporting."
"So I'm here to keep me safe. But I still don't understand why I need to be here for Harry," I said. Dumbledore sighed tiredly.
"Think of it this way: you were the top in your class at Defense Against the Dark Arts, you were the captain of the Dueling Club, and you knew every hex, jinx, and curse there is to know. We need that knowledge to protect Harry from any and all attacks. It is possible that he could be attacked at any place, at any time. You need to be there for him…we can't have him dying when it is not the right time."
"Right," I said, still unsure. "I think I get it. Will Harry be alerted to my presence? And where am I to follow him?"
"He is not to know you are there, unless the occasion arises where you must help him. Try not to interfere unless it is absolutely necessary. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Professor," I said, sounding like I was back in third or fourth year and had just been caught for filling Professor Slughorn's classroom with Shrinking Solution laced with a potion that made one spring out in boils. (Yes, James and I actually did that, fourth year.)
"As for your second question: the answer is everywhere," Dumbledore continued. "Anywhere and everywhere that he goes, you go with him. All his classes, all his extracurricular activities—Quidditch practice, study groups—Hogsmeade trips. Everywhere."
What about if he goes into a boom cupboard to snog a girl? But I didn't say this out loud. The twinkling in Dumbledore's eyes was enough to tell me that he'd guessed my thinking.
"Sirius, you may wait outside, if that occasion occurs." I didn't ask how he'd read my mind. I figured it to be some obscure and rare form of magic. "Now! To the Great Hall, may its splendor never fade, and may the feast begin. They all must be nearly here."
"Sir, we ran a little overtime," I said consulting my watch. "They're probably waiting."
"Dear me! This is a first! For tonight, you may stand behind me in your dog form. I will make sure you are fed."
"But sir," I protested. "Won't people like Draco Malfoy see me? They must know of the useless Great Disguise by now."
"Do not worry. Tonight, I shall keep you shielded from their view by using a strange and wonderful form of magic. Very few will be able to see you. And if they do, it won't matter, as they are on our side. Now transform, and come along. We have kept the poor hungry souls waiting long enough!"
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"Oh! Renee! Meg!" a voice called over the crowded Entrance Hall. Professor McGonagall was wading her way over to us.
"Hello, Professor," Renee said.
"Hello. I'm to show you your rooms after the feast. If I sit too long talking, remind me. I'm not likely to forget, but you can never tell. Now, come along. We don't want to keep the feast waiting for us."
The three women herded the last of the straggling students into the Great Hall and entered behind them. The magnificence of it would never cease to stun Renee, she thought, as for the first time in fourteen years she looked upon the sky-mirroring ceiling. Then as she scanned the staff table, she saw a more, less pleasant surprise.
Severus Snape was sitting to the left of Dumbledore's golden chair, sneering down at her. The new professor stopped in her tracks so that Meg bumped into her.
"Keep going," the elder sister whispered. Renee did not glance back, nor did she take her eyes from Snape's face. This was the man who had made her life living hell back in sixth year, after the Cody fiasco. Now he was back, and she had a sickening, sinking feeling that this year was going to be no easier.
"Meg, please take the seat next to him," Renee whispered.
"Me?" Meg breathed, horrified. "He's the one who sold Mark out to Voldemort! I can't sit next to the man who killed my husband!"
"Would you do it for me?" Renee pleaded. "You know what he did to me."
"Renee…I can't…I'm sorry." Renee sighed heavily and made her way over to the teachers table, conscious of the students' staring.
"If you'll make me…" she muttered through gritted teeth. She grinned inwardly as she felt Meg flinch beside her—her sister knew she'd pay for this later.
"Ah…Professor Eraque…" Snape said as she sat down next to him with a grimace. "Or should I say Elli?"
"Very funny Snivellius," she murmured with as much contempt as she could muster. If the man felt anything at the sound of his 'nickname' he showed no sign of it (though Meg said later she thought his hand spasmed on the way to his goblet). The two former-enemies-now-co-workers said not a word more to each other throughout the Sorting ceremony, which was nervous enough, being preformed when Dumbledore's chair stood empty.
Three minutes later, just as the first years were wondering what happened next and the older students were getting parched and starving, the Headmaster appeared. Renee jumped slightly, as did McGonagall and a few Gryffindors, including the black haired, Harry Potter. Standing next to Dumbledore was a huge black dog. Renee felt her heart jump into her throat at the sight of him, looking so beautiful and regal. She sighed again.
As they sat down to the feast, the dog sat behind Dumbledore, but kept shooting sidelong, longing glances down the table at her. She smiled and dropped her hand under the table, beckoning to him. He trotted over to her happily and she dropped him a sausage. The next thing to drop was a note she'd written him on the train:
Please, I need to speak with you…hear your voice again…please. Come find me tonight. Please…Love, Renee.
She'd turned her attention back to the students in the Hall as he read it, but when he nudged her hand again she looked down. He nodded and winked then put his forepaws up on the table in search for more sausages. She stifled a laugh, realizing that no one but certain people could see him. She smiled again and pulled the plate of sausages toward her so he could grab a few. One of the ones he'd licked, she noticed, found its way onto Snape's plate. She stifled another laugh.
Yes…with Sirius here, this would be a very interesting year indeed.
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Sirius snuffled the sausages she had moved closer for him. He dog-grinned and rolled one on to Snape's plate, licking it. When the Potion's Master ate it, he couldn't help but choke back dog-laughter. Watching Harry, tormenting Snape, and (finally, FINALLY) talking with Renee again…oh yes…this year would be the best year since 1977…