Title: The Boys Who Lived
Author: Shara Lunison
Beta: Batsutousai
Rating for this Chapter: K+
Pairings: Harry/Henry (OMC), several others—none of them canon
Warnings: SLASH, eventual twincest, slightly manipulative!Dumbledore, grey Harry/Henry, OoC-ness, others as I think of them.
Summary: The Potter twins are attacked by Voldemort and somehow defeat him. Now the Dark Lord has returned and they have to choose between light and dark. SLASH, Twincest, rated M for later chapters.
Disclaim Her: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: So many people guessed that Tom Riddle was the new subject of the prophecy that I have to say, this is not correct.
Chapter Twenty-Two: Escape
Deep below the stony island fortress of Azkaban, below the sea that crushed against the rocks above, Sirius Black calmly unfurled the newspaper he had begged off one of Minister Fudge's bodyguards. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the man gape at his casual position, and couldn't hold back a small smirk.
"Dog got your tongue, Minister?" he asked, not even really looking at the paper before him.
"Er…shouldn't that be 'cat'?" Fudge seemed to recover slightly.
Sirius laughed. "I don't think so."
For some reason, this seemed to calm the Minister down somewhat. "Well, you seem to be doing all right, then. Eleven years in here and you're still ticking, so you must be getting enough care. Right." Fudge looked at his escort and motioned them to continue down the hall before Sirius could refute his 'care'. "Moving on."
With a snort, Sirius turned to actually read the paper in his hands. Once a year the current Minister was required to take a tour of Azkaban to ensure the 'proper care' of its inhabitants. Not that anything ever changed. Only remaining in his animagus form for much of his eleven years here had allowed him to remain sane around the dementors.
Perusing the front page, an article jumped out at him:
Potter Twins Take the Dark Mark
"WHAT!?" Sirius screamed, standing and pacing around his cell as he read the article quickly. Already he could feel a dementor moving closer in reaction to his despair and pain.
Inside sources in the Ministry reveal
that Harry and Henry Potter have been
seen with a Dark Mark on their faces. In
relation to Albus Dumbledore's recent
claims that the You-Know-Who has re-
turned, this news is most troubling.
Ministry sources have long main-
tained that no one but the Dark Lord
himself was capable of Marking someone,
yet those same sources have as yet
refused to admit that the Wizarding
World's greatest enemy has returned.
Due to the location of the Mark on the
Potters' faces, the Ministry has not
pressed charges. Amelia Bones, Head
of the Auror Office, was heard to say,
"They are victims, pure and simple. You-
Know-Who would not Mark a true
follower on their face—it would be too
obvious. They are clearly victims of that
madman's return to power."
Albus Dumbledore also backed these
claims, saying that, "Messirs Potter will
always be welcome within the walls of
Hogwarts. I know they would never join
the man who murdered their parents."
This reporter has sought to interview the
Boys-Who-Lived themselves, but the owner of
their current residence—the Hog's Head in
Hogsmeade—repelled our every advance.
Learn more about the history of the Boys-Who-Lived on page 3.
Sirius crumpled the paper in his hands as the dementor stopped outside his cell, its rattling breath a familiar and horrifying sound in the animagus' ears. He didn't dare transform with the Ministry so close, and was forced to suffer through his worst memories over and over again. When the memory of finding Lily and James dead came for the third time, he snarled to the empty air, "I've been here too long!"
When the patrol came through the next morning, the cell was empty.
-o-0-o-
Dear Messirs Potter,
Due to the abbreviated notice before the start of term, Hogwarts will be allowing students to owl order their supplies from Diagon Alley. Third years and above will also be able to visit Hogsmeade on the weekends—an especially early visitation date is being made available so that those students needing to being studies for their OWLs and NEWTs can gather their materials without the hassle of waiting for an owl order to arrive. Flourish and Blotts in Diagon will be making a visit to the school on the first morning with a selection of used and new texts from our list. If you desire additional reading materials, you will have to place the order separately.
The supply list and the permission form for Hogsmeade weekend are attached. We look forward to welcoming you back to a new school year.
Yours Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
P.S.—Thank you for your help with our scaly problem.
Harry grinned as he read the postscript. It was written in the same looping script as his head of house's signature.
"What do the defense texts look like this year?" he asked Henry, who had snatched up the supply list almost immediately.
"Remarkably sound, considering the professors we've had so far. I can only hope that this year we'll actually learn something in the classroom."
"What about our electives?" Harry plucked the list from his brother's fingers, and Henry picked up the permission forms instead. "Four books for Ancient Runes!?" Harry exclaimed. "I've only got one for Care of Magical Creatures. What do we need four books for?"
"They're runic dictionaries, you twit," Henry laughed. "Only one of them is a textbook."
"Spellman's Syllabary is a dictionary. The rest of these are…are…"
"Having second thoughts about taking a real class?" Henry sneered in his best imitation of Draco. "Ronald wanted you to take Divination with him."
"Yes, and you and Hermione managed to talk us out of it. Well, more you than Hermione. I wonder how she's going to manage taking everything?"
"About the same way I imagine Ron will handle taking Muggle Studies with her. She's going to be a nightmare in there, I don't know what he was thinking."
"Probably decided if Divination was a bust, he might as well learn something that will help him bond with his dad. From what I can gather of his family, by the time Ron was born, his dad was working overtime at the Ministry most nights—they've never really gotten to know one another the way they ought to."
Henry shrugged uncomfortably and turned the forms in his hands so Harry could see them. "We have to have our guardian sign them. Do you think Abe will suit?"
"Only one way to find out."
-o-0-o-
"I'm sorry boys, but Albus has forbidden me, under any circumstances, from giving you permission to go into Hogsmeade this year."
"But why?" Harry demanded.
Abe sighed and rubbed his balding head. "He didn't say this, so don't go letting me put words in his mouth, but I think he's afraid if you come into Hogsmeade that the Death Eaters will attack just so ol' Tom can get his hands on you occasionally throughout the year."
Henry opened his mouth to argue, then snapped it shut as he realized that the bartender's logic was sound. With a sigh, he told Harry, "Just leave it. If Dumbledore is behind this, there's no way we'll ever be allowed to go. No matter who signs our forms."
-o-0-o-
That morning's Daily Prophet delivered another surprise.
"Sirius Black?" Harry cried as he read the front page, "Who's he?"
Abe, sitting behind the bar where they were having breakfast, froze in the process of polishing a glass.
"You know something," Henry said, staring intently at their guardian.
"I don't know nothin'," Abe countered, polishing furiously and avoiding their eyes.
"Oh come off it, Abe," Harry joined in. "It's obvious you know who they're talking about. After all, if it's such a big deal he's escaped, he must be famous."
Abe grunted. "He's only famous because no one has ever escaped from Azkaban."
Henry's eyes narrowed. "Then why does his name sound so familiar?"
The bartender froze again and his eyes flew up to the older boy's in surprise. "Don't tell me you remember…?" he caught himself, but then realized that he had already said too much. With a sigh, he set aside the smudged glass in his hands. "You really don't want to know, boys. You'll only be hurt by it."
The twins exchanged glances and then looked at Abe with crossed arms.
He groaned. "Fine. Sirius Black was your father's best friend. And he's also the one who told You-Know-Who where your parents were hiding. He betrayed your parents and then killed Peter Pettigrew and a dozen muggles in the middle of the street, laughing madly all the while."
"Oh," Henry said dully.
"He also happens to be your godfather, and would have legal custody of you if he were ever found innocent, which isn't bloody likely. Now finish your kippers and get out of my hair!"
Both boys quickly shoved the last of their breakfast in their mouths and ran out the door to find something else to do for the rest of the morning.
Harry quickly found a large round rock and began kicking it in front of them as they walked. "Do you think what he said is true? That our dad's best friend betrayed him?" There was a tight edge of anger in his voice that he couldn't quite suppress. He didn't even know the man—he didn't know all the sides of the story. He couldn't decide a man's fate based on so little evidence. But his heart wasn't listening to his mind.
Henry shrugged. "We don't really have any way of knowing without asking dad, or this Sirius Black fellow—I guess one of their other friends might know, but I doubt it. The magic that was used to hide them was very complicated. I think only them and their Secret Keeper would have known where they were. If that was actually Sirius Black, then yes, I think Abe is right."
"But if it wasn't?" Harry kicked his rock and watched it disappear into the bushes beside the road.
"Then I don't blame him for escaping. I just wonder why he waited eleven years to do so."
Out of the bushes where Harry was looking, a large black dog suddenly burst forth and sat in the dust at their feet, it's tongue hanging out the corner of its mouth. It was very skinny—most of its ribs were showing clearly through it's dark shaggy coat—and covered in dust.
"Hey, boy!" Harry said gently, squatting so that he could extend a cautious hand to the large animal. "What's your name?"
"Ruff!" said the dog. It took a few steps forward before suddenly rearing onto its hind legs and placing its front paws on the boy's shoulders.
"Oof!" Harry cried, pushed onto his back by the dog's weight.
The dog, a male, looked closely at the boy's face as if to ask, "Now what are you doing down there?" Then it whined and licked his face, the side with the white Dark Mark.
Henry leaned over his brother from the other side with a smug smile. "Gryffindors, always waiting in the dust at Slytherin's feet."
"Bark, bark!" the dog cried, moving towards Henry with a menacing growl. The older boy quickly backed away with wide eyes—and here he had almost been convinced that the dog was harmless, just underfed.
"Hey, stop that!" Harry cried, sitting up and grabbing the dog by the scruff of the neck. It whined again, eyes rolling as it was pulled away. "He's my brother, if you hadn't noticed. He's allowed to say stuff like that, and he's the only Slytherin who can get away with it."
Henry huffed indignantly, and said, "That dog is clearly even more of a Gryffindor than you, Harry."
Harry grinned and rubbed the fur around the dog's neck briskly. "Then why don't we call him Gryff?"
"Call him Gry…? Oh no. Oh no you don't, Harry Potter. Abe will kill us."
"We can keep him outside when the bar is open."
Henry crossed his arms over his chest.
"Oh come on, Hen! Look at him, he's half-starved. Can't we at least keep him until he fattens up a little bit or until someone comes to claim him?"
The older twin suddenly found himself confronted by two sets of puppy-dog eyes, one set green and one blue. Rolling his own eyes, he sighed. "Fine, but you get to explain it to Abe."
-o-0-o-
"Okay."
Harry grinned victoriously while Henry's jaw dropped in shock.
"Okay? Okay!? You're going to give in, just like that? No promises, or dire threats, or…"
Abe held up his hand to silence him. "I hadn't gotten that far."
Henry looked slightly mollified at this.
"I want you both to go down the road and ask the man who runs the tool shop if he has any spare bits of wood. You're going to build this beast a dog house out by the goat pens. And it must be weather-tight. When it gets colder out, I'll set him up a bed in the kitchen at night, so long as he behaves himself." He leaned over the bar to stare down at the dog. "And you're going to work, you hear me, dog? No lazing about in the sun all day chasing cats and daydreams. I've got a job or two that needs doing and you can help."
"Ruff!" said Gryff, sitting placidly on the floor and looking attentively at his new masters.
Abe nodded with satisfaction. "Right. Off with ye, then. I don't suppose you'll need a leash, judging by how he follows at your heels, but see if you can't find a collar and make a tag with his name on it. Or bring me something and I'll transfigure it."
"Come on Gryff!" Harry cried, and led the eager dog and his reluctant brother out of the pub.
Jim, who owned the tool shop, gave them a teetering pile of boards to build the house as well as a hand saw, hammer and nails. Henry decided he would like to get started on the house, and walked back to the pub with Gryff at his heels while Harry went to see if the local pet shop had a collar for their new dog.
Henry was a little surprised that Gryff decided to follow him, though. He peered over the pile of boards in his arms to look at the dog and asked, "I thought you didn't like me?"
The black dog cocked his head to the side questioningly.
"Well, you attacked me for being what I am—a Slytherin. Which isn't exactly something I can help."
"Ruff!" Gryff barked.
"What, you were just surprised?" Henry chuckled lightly. "All right, then. If you can live with me being Slytherin, I can live with you being a Gryffindor."
The dog's tongue wagged out of its mouth and he bounded in circles around the youth all the way back to the bar.
-o-0-o-
By dinner time, Gryff had a stoutly built dog house and a lovely red collar with a burnished gold nameplate bearing his name.
When they showed Abe their handiwork, he just grunted and went about his business—they took that to mean he was satisfied and took Hedwig and Serash outside to meet the third member of their growing menagerie.
The great snowy owl just stared impassively down at the dog before flying off for a nighttime wing through the forest. Serash, once let down in his cat form, stalked imperiously over to the dog where there was much sniffing and investigating.
When Gryff started to growl and back away from the 'cat', Henry looked at Serash for an explanation.
"Massster, I think he knowsss I am not a cat."
Henry looked back and forth between the dog and his familiar warily before making a decision. "Transssform."
The dog looked at him in open surprise when he made the hissing noise, which Henry didn't think was very dog-like behavior. His eyes narrowed a little more and he decided to keep an eye on the dog's mannerisms. There was something strange…
The Quetzalcoatl shifted forms and returned to his white and silver scaly form. This time, Gryff moved forward and sniffed more cautiously, but seemed satisfied that at least this was the real form of the creature before him.
"Can you tassste anything ssstrange about him?" Henry asked Serash. The snake's tongue darted out into the air near the dog, tasting the air that shared the dog's past.
"Hurt. Pain. Sssuffering." Serash hissed with sympathy. He remembered all too clearly how it felt to be imprisoned in a cage. This dog had the same taste to him. "Sssecretsss."
Henry's head came up and he called Harry over from where he was watching Hedwig wing through the trees. "What kind of sssecretsss could a dog have?"
But Serash couldn't identify the flavor for them, no matter how many times they asked. And Gryff seemed to grow more and more agitated as they spoke with the snake and then looked up at the dog in concern.
Harry called Gryff to him and rubbed his neck in concern. "You've had a hard time of it, though, haven't you, boy?"
"But Serash said he smelled of secrets…" Henry started, but was distracted when the dog's head suddenly whipped towards him in another display of non-dog-like behavior.
His wand was in his hand in a moment. "What…or who, are you?"
Gryff bellied down in the grass and dragged one paw over his nose as if ashamed.
"You…understand what we're saying?" Harry asked in amazement.
It was subtle, but the dog definitely nodded in response.
"Are you a human trapped as a dog? Did someone make you like this?" Henry asked.
Gryff shook his head.
Harry gasped suddenly, as a realization struck. "You're an animagus," he whispered.
"But why don't you transform?" Henry asked, puzzled. "Surely you don't want to be kept as a pet by two teenagers for the rest of your life?"
The dog looked between them, then sat his head miserably in the grass at their feet. Even the wagging of his tail died down completely. He looked bone weary and sad enough to make a Death Eater cry.
Harry sighed and patted his head. "It's okay, Gryff. You can stay here as long as you need to. And now that we know you're not really a dog, we'll give you more reasonable food."
The ears perked up a bit at this, but he seemed to be falling asleep where he lay.
"Come on Har, let's leave him to rest. We need to start packing up our trunks for school in a few days."
"Yeah…" Harry trailed after his brother, his eyes happening to land upon that morning's Daily Prophet as they went upstairs. The name 'Sirius Black' stood out in great black letters, and he paused, looking between the paper and the dog house through the window outside. Was it possible…?
-o-0-o-
"Come on, Harry!" Henry called impatiently up the back stairs in the Hog's Head. "The train will be arriving any minute!"
"I still don't see why we couldn't take the train with our friends," Harry griped, dragging his trunk noisily down the stairs behind him. "I mean, I'd almost rather get all the staring done before we get to Hogwarts instead of right before the feast."
"I'm sure Dumbledore either thinks we'd use the opportunity to recruit for the Dark Lord or that we'd be horribly beaten by most of the school. In either case, I wish he would at least answer our letters."
Harry snorted derisively and dragged his trunk into the front room to rest beside the door. They could wish all they wanted, but they were yesterday's news as far as the Headmaster was concerned.
"I'll send your trunks up to the school. Go say goodbye to Gryff before ye go, then scoot!" Abe told them.
Gryff had remained a mystery over the past several days. He was already looking healthier from all the good meals he had been eating. Abe had raised an eyebrow at them when they asked his to feed the dog human food, but seemed admonished when the black beast wolfed it down, meat, bread, vegetables and all.
"Hey, boy!" Harry called cheerfully, kneeling as always to scrub the dog's ruff.
Henry smiled fondly at the dog. Despite the fact that he knew it was really a man in there, he couldn't help but like the beast's playfulness and energy. He was also glad that the man was making the most of his situation and sloughing off whatever horrible things had happened to him before they took him in.
"I wish we could visit you while we're at school," Harry was telling the dog sadly. "But Dumbledore won't let us come to Hogsmeade weekends—he's afraid the Dark Lord will attack the other students because of us."
"As if he needed an excuse," Henry sniffed.
The dog's ears perked forward at the mention of Hogsmeade weekends, and Henry could almost see the wheels turning in the dog's mind.
"You could just come up to the castle during our free times. We'll send Abe a copy of our schedule, so see if you can get a good look at it," Henry told the dog, fondly rubbing his ears.
"And just in case you're some kind of long-lost relative, the forms are sitting out on me and Hen's bed. But I have to warn you, I doubt even having a signed form would be enough for Dumbles."
Gryff's tongue wagged in a dog-laugh, and the two boys laughed and waved to him as they took off down the path to the school.
"What was that long-lost-relative bit about?" Henry asked, curious.
"Oh, you know. The fact that he came to us and is staying with us made me think he might have at least known our parents. So it didn't hurt to let him know where the forms were." Harry also still harbored a secret suspicion that their dog was their godfather. And if that was the case, he was willing to suspend disbelief until he knew what had really happened the night their parents died. In the meantime, why not take advantage of that possible fact and get the forms signed?
"Right," Henry said dubiously.
-o-0-o-
Sirius Black was having the time of his life. Not only had he found his godsons and learned that the Dark Mark was a result of their victimization, he was also about to play the biggest prank in Hogwarts history on one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. With a flourish, he finished signing the forms in the twins' room and penned a brief and irate letter to his old Headmaster.
Dear Albus…
-o-0-o-
A/N: Please read and review!
~Shara