Chapter 10: The Marauder's Map
Harry had to stay in the hospital wing over the weekend upon Madam Pomfrey's orders. Claire, Ron, and Hermione visited him there and saw he still had the bag that contained pieces of his broken broom.
"Harry, I hate to break it to you but there's no way your broom is going to be salvaged," Claire said, looking at the bag.
"I know," Harry sighed.
"Still upset about the game, mate?" Ron asked.
"Yea," Harry said.
Claire seemed to think Harry wasn't telling them the whole truth, but she didn't push for an explanation thinking she'd ask him when Ron and Hermione weren't around.
"It will be alright, Harry," Hermione said. "You're team still has a chance."
"Hermione's right," Ron said. "Fred and George were saying that if Hufflepuff loses to Ravenclaw or Slytherin then Gryffindor will be back in the game."
Madam Pomfrey came over at this moment to shoo them away so she could check on Harry. Ron and Hermione were heading out while Claire said to Harry, "I'll be back after lunch." She then followed Ron and Hermione to the Great Hall.
"Harry seems to beating himself up about this whole Quidditch Match," Hermione said, as they sat down at the table.
"He does," Ron agreed.
They then heard Malfoy talking loudly with the other Slytherins about Harry's accident.
"Did you see the way he fell off his broom?" Malfoy laughed. "I bet he'll be blaming the dementors for his lousy flying skills now!"
The other Slytherins laughed along with him while Claire imagined pushing Malfoy off the Astronomy tower. Claire had enough of him ridiculing her best friend. She stood up from her seat and looked towards the Slytherins.
"You're one to talk, Malfoy," Claire snapped. "How many times have you caught the Snitch again?"
The whole Gryffindor table burst out laughing. Malfoy looked infuriated and shouted to her, "Hey, Smith! How does it feel to have parents?"
Claire was about to send a jinx towards Malfoy when—
"Knock it off, Malfoy," It was Jason Saxton. "Just leave Smith alone."
"Sticking up for a Gryffindor, Saxton?" Malfoy sneered. "You disgrace the name Slytherin."
"I think you do that plenty yourself, Malfoy," Jason said.
Malfoy pulled out his wand and pointed it at Jason. He was about to use a spell when—
"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Saxton" Snape had just entered the Great Hall. "Come see me in my office right now."
They glared at each other and then reluctantly followed Snape to his office. The Hall resumed to its normal chatter. Claire couldn't believe what just happened and apparently all the other houses were thinking the same thing.
"Did a Slytherin just stick up for a Gryffindor?" Seamus said.
"Wasn't that guy the transfer student from last year? Didn't he go to Durmstrang Institute?" Dean said.
Claire didn't feel like eating much. She finished her Pumpkin juice and stood up from the table.
"Where are you going?" Ron asked.
"I'm going to thank Saxton, I mean Jason for what he did." Claire said.
"By the way why did he do that? Didn't you two hate each other?" Hermione questioned.
"We don't hate each other….anymore. It's complicated. We're sort of friends now. Look, I'll meet up with you later." Claire said.
"Alright, we'll be in the library," Hermione replied.
Ron groaned. "The library? It's so boring—"
Claire didn't stick around to hear their conversation. She walked out of the Great Hall and headed towards the dungeons. Just as she was about to follow the steps that led to the dungeons, Jason came up them.
"Oh, hello, Claire," Jason gave her a small smile.
"Hey, Jason." Claire said.
"What did you need?" Jason asked.
"I just wanted to say thanks for what you did back there. I hope you didn't get into too much trouble. You really didn't have to do that. Now you've turned your whole house against you." Claire said.
"We're friends. We stick up for one another. And as far as my house turning against me, I could care less." Jason said. "Don't worry about the punishment. Malfoy got detention and I was let off."
"Really?" Claire raised her eyebrow. "I thought Malfoy was Snape's star student?"
"Apparently, he's not." Jason said.
"Well, thanks again, Jason," Claire thanked him. "I guess I'll see you later."
When Jason was gone, Claire remembered about Harry. She headed to the hospital wing. Harry still seemed a little depressed.
"Hey, Harry," Claire greeted him with a smile.
Harry smiled back to Claire. "Hey, Claire,"
"Everything all right?" She asked.
"Yea," Harry said unconvincingly.
Claire raised her eyebrow. "Ok, Harry, you and I both know that's not true. I know that you're upset about not winning and your broomstick but I have a feeling that's not the only thing that's troubling you."
Harry sighed. "There's two things that are troubling me actually. You remember what Professor Trelawney said?"
Claire groaned. "Harry, you can't be serious. You're worried about the Grim?"
Harry nodded. "The thing is I think I saw the Grim—again."
Claire rolled her eyes. "Don't you think you're being paranoid?"
"This is the second time I've seen it Claire! Every time I saw it, something bad happened. The first time the Knight Bus nearly ran me over and when I saw the Grim at the game I fell fifty feet off my broom!" Harry exclaimed.
Claire could see where he was coming from but she thought that he was just being paranoid.
"Well, you know what they say, once is chance, twice is coincidence, and third is a pattern." Claire said.
"What if it happens a third time?" Harry said.
"Then I guess you can be worried then." Claire replied.
"Thanks for that," Harry said sarcastically.
They were silent for a few moments.
"What was the other thing that was bothering you?" Claire asked.
"The dementors," Harry replied.
"I don't blame you." Claire said. "They aren't the greatest things."
"Yea, well it seems I'm the only one who passes out around them. And—" Harry cut off looking a bit more depressed.
"And what?" Claire asked.
"And I can hear my mother screaming. I think it was the last moments of her life." Harry said.
"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry I brought it up," Claire apologized. She put her hand on his hand.
"It's alright," Harry said. "I'm actually kind of glad I told someone about it. It's just that I felt so weak around the dementors."
"Harry, you are anything but weak. Look at all the things you've done. You took on Voldemort three times and lived. You're one of the strongest and most powerful wizards I know, Harry." Claire said. "And trust me I wouldn't say that to you if it wasn't true."
"Thanks, Claire," Harry smiled.
"No problem." Claire said. "I'd better get going. I told Hermione I'd meet her and Ron at the library. We'll come by later, ok? And I won't tell them our conversation if you don't want me to."
Claire could see that Harry was thankful for her not telling the others about their conversation. Claire left and headed to the library. When she arrived, she noticed a very bored Ron and a book-reading Hermione (not that that wasn't normal).
"Hey," Claire said to the two.
They both said hello. Ron flipped the pages of his Defense Against the Dark Arts book lazily, obviously not reading the words. Claire was about to pull out her books from her bag when she caught sight of the blue journal from River Song. She then remembered how River Song had warned her about the danger ahead. River Song had said that Sirius wasn't too bad and that Claire should do some research on him.
"Hermione?" Hermione looked up from her essay she was writing on werewolves that Snape had assigned them. "Do you think there's a section in this library that keeps records of previous students here at Hogwarts? Maybe school newspapers or something along those lines?"
"Yes," Hermione said. "I've visited that section before. It's the very last row of books on the last aisle. Why?"
"Just doing some research," Claire said.
"For what?" Ron asked.
"I just want to check something. I'll be back later." Claire went to the very last aisle of books and walked to the last row of books. There was a huge section of Hogwarts yearbooks, newspapers, another readings. Claire began searching. She estimated that Black had gone to school in the 1970s. Skimming through the yearbooks, she spotted a book that didn't look like it belonged in that section. Claire pulled it out and on the front cover there was a picture of a Time-turner. The title read The Invention of the Time-turner. She flipped to the first page of the book.
The Time-turner was invented in 1977 by a man named John Smith.
Claire nearly dropped the book. John Smith? That was the name of her father! My father invented the Time-turner! Claire thought to herself. She was definitely going to show Hermione this later. She had to find information on Black. Pulling off some of the yearbooks from the 1970s, she finally found a picture of Sirius Black.
It was from his first year and he was in a picture with four other kids. Three of them were boys while one was a girl who looked like a female version of Sirius. Claire stared at the picture recognizing her mom. She could point out some similarities between herself and her mom. They both had they same curly hair, noses, and facial structure. In the photo the five of them were laughing. Sirius and Carina had their arms on each others shoulders laughing with the other three boys. Why'd he have to turn bad? Claire thought. She could tell by the photo that Sirius and Carina were close as siblings could be. Claire also noticed that one of the other boys seemed to be looking at her mom in a way that Claire had only seen Mr. and Mrs. Weasley look at each other. The boy was on Carina's other side and had a few scars on his face, light brown hair, and green eyes. The boy looked oddly familiar, but so did the other boy who was standing on the other side of Sirius. He had untidy black hair and hazel eyes. There was another boy he was pudgy and seemed to be a few inches away from the other four. He was still laughing, but he seemed out of place; like he wasn't supposed to be there. Claire closed the book and decided to look through the newspapers to get some information on Black. One headline caught her interest: Black's Attack
Sirius Black was sent to Azkaban after killing thirteen juggles and even his own friend- Peter Pettigrew. The only thing found at the scene of the crime was one of Peter Pettigrew's fingers.
"Claire, there you are," Hermione said, coming down the aisle. "It's almost time for dinner. Are you ready to go?"
"Yea," Claire put up the books she was using except for the one on the Time-turner. "Hermione, when you asked me about if I was related to John Smith back in first year did you know that he created the Time-turner?"
Hermione nodded. "That's why I was asking you."
"Well, it turns out I am." Claire said.
"That's incredible!" Hermione replied. "Is that what you were looking for?"
"Yes and no," Claire began. "I was trying to find information on Black and then the book about Time-turners caught my eye and that's how I found out."
"Did you find anything?" Hermione asked.
"Would you two hurry up? I'm starving." Ron complained walking over to them.
"You're always starving," Claire commented as she put up the Time-turner book as Ron glared at her.
The three of them went to dinner. Claire told Hermione and Ron what she found in the library about Black.
"All I found was a photo. It was my mom, Black, and three other boys. They all seemed to be having a good time." Claire said. "Makes me wonder how someone who seemed innocent can turn evil. I guess looks can be deceiving."
On Monday Harry was released from the hospital wing and now the four friends were headed to their Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Their previous class had been Potions. It was a complete disaster as Malfoy kept taunting Harry. Claire and Ron broke and they both threw a large, slippery crocodile heart at Malfoy, which hit him in the face. Of course, Snape deducted fifty points from Gryffindor because of this action.
"If Snape's teaching our Defense class again, I'm skipping," Ron said as they neared Lupin's classroom. "Check who's in there, Hermione."
Hermione peered around the classroom door.
"It's okay!"
They walked in to see Professor Lupin, who looked as though he had been certainly been ill. His old robes were hanging more loosely than before and dark shadows were beneath his eyes; nevertheless, he smiled at the class as they took their seats, and they burst at once into an explosion of complaints about Snape's behavior while Lupin had been ill. They told Lupin how Snape had assigned them an essay on werewolves that was suppose to be two rolls of parchment. In the end, Lupin said not to worry about the essay to which Hermione replied, "Oh no, I've already finished it!"
The rest of the class was enjoyable and when the bell rang, Lupin wanted a word with Harry. Claire, Ron, and Hermione waited outside for Harry. Lupin told Harry he'd heard of his accident at the last Quidditch match and about his broomstick.
"Did you hear about the dementors too?" Harry said with difficulty.
Lupin looked at him quickly.
"Yes, I did. I don't think any of us have seen Professor Dumbledore that angry. They have been growing restless for some time….furious at his refusal to let them inside the grounds…I suppose they were the reason you fell?"
"Yes," Harry said. He hesitated, and then the question he had to ask burst from him before he could stop himself. "Why? Why do they affect me like that? Am I just—?"
"It has nothing to do with weakness," Professor Lupin said sharply, as though he had read Harry's mind. "And if it did, from what I've heard of what you've done you wouldn't have been affected."
"That's what Claire said," Harry said.
"I see," Lupin smiled faintly. "Well, she's right. Are you two close?"
"Yea, I've known her for three years and she's one of my best friends." Harry said.
"It's important to have friends like that. You never know when you might need help." Lupin said. "Now, to answer your question, the dementors affect you worse than the others because you've experienced things in your past that the others haven't. Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They live in the darkest, filthiest places and drain peace, hope, happiness out of the air around them. Even Muggles feel their presence, though they can't see them. It's important not to get too near to one or otherwise everything that's good inside of you will be sucked out of you. Dementors can and will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself…soul-less and evil. All that will remain our the worst experiences of you life. And the worst that happened to you, Harry, is enough to make anyone fall off their broom. You have nothing to feel ashamed of."
"When they get near me—" Harry stared at Lupin's desk, his throat tight. "I can hear Voldemort murdering my mom."
A few moments in silence passed. Harry then came up with an idea.
"Professor," Harry began. "You made the dementors back off on the train. Do you think you could teach me those defenses? I'll need to be to fight them off if they come to another Quidditch game."
Lupin looked into Harry's determined face, hesitated, then said, "Well….all right. I'll try and help. But it'll have to wait until next term, I'm afraid. I have a lot to do before the holidays. I chose a very inconvenient time to fall ill."
Harry's mood took a definite upturn with the promise of anti-dementor lessons from Lupin, the thought that he might never have to hear his mother's death again, and the face that Ravenclaw flattened Hufflepuff in their Quidditch match at the end of November. Gryffindor was no longer out of the running but they could not afford to lose another match. Wood worked his team harder than ever in the freezing rain. Winter holidays were just around the corner and there was another Hogsmeade trip on the very last weekend of the term to everyone's delight except Claire and Harry's. Since Claire and Harry were going to be the only two left at the castle they decided to hang out together again.
On the Saturday morning of the Hogsmeade trip, Claire and Harry said good-bye to Ron and Hermione and then turned up the marble staircase, and headed back toward Gryffindor Tower. Snow had started to fall outside the windows, and the castle was very still and quiet.
"So, what do you want to do, Harry?" Claire asked.
"I'm not sure—"
"Psst—Claire! Harry!"
They turned, halfway along the third-floor corridor, to see Fred and George peering out at them from behind a statue of a humpbacked, one-eyed witch.
"What are you two doing?" Claire asked.
"How come you're not going to Hogsmeade?" Harry said curiously.
"We've come to give you both a bit of festive cheer before we go," Fred said, with a mysterious wink. "Come in here…."
He nodded toward an empty classroom to the left of the one-eyed statue.
"If this is a joke—" Claire began.
"It's not a joke. Now come in before someone sees." George said annoyed.
They followed the twins inside. George closed the door quietly and then turned, beaming at the two of them.
"So, we heard of your dilemmas and Fred and I have an early Christmas present for you two," he said.
Fred pulled something from inside his cloak with a flourish and laid it on one of the desks. It was a large, square, very worn piece of parchment with nothing written on it.
"So, how is it that this isn't a joke?" Claire questioned annoyed.
"Just hold on, let us explain," George said. "This is the key to Fred and my's success. It's a wrench, giving it to you, but we decided last night, your need's greater than ours."
"However," Fred began. "that doesn't mean you two can go sneaking around and snogging—"
Both Harry and Claire were completely embarrassed. They both blushed and Claire said annoyed, "We're not going to be snogging! We're just friends for the last time!"
"Anyway," George said, trying to ease the tension, "we know it by heart. We bequeath it to you. We don't really need it anymore."
"And what are we going to do with a bit of old parchment?" Harry said.
"A bit of old parchment!" Fred said, closing his eyes with a grimace as though Harry had mortally offended him. "Explain, George."
"Well…..when we were in our first year, Claire, Harry—young, carefree, and innocent—"
Harry snorted while Claire rolled her eyes.
"—well, more innocent than we are now—we got into a spot of bother with Filch."
"Oh, I remember that," Claire said. "Your mum nearly screamed her head off at you two. That was when you let off a Dungbomb in the corridor and Filch caught you."
Fred and George grimaced as they remembered their mother yelling at them.
"Exactly," Fred said. "So he ended up hauling us to his office and started threatening us with the usual—"
"—detention—"
"—disembowelment—"
"—and we couldn't help noticing—"
"Oh, I bet you couldn't," Claire muttered.
"—a drawer in one of his filing cabinets marked Confiscated and Highly Dangerous."
"Don't tell me—" Harry said, starting to grin.
"Well, what would you've done?" Fred said. "George caused a diversion and I whipped the drawer opened and grabbed—this."
"It's not as bad as it sounds, you know," George said. "We don't reckon Filch ever found out how to work it. He probably suspected what it was, though, or he wouldn't have confiscated it."
"And you know how to work it?" Harry asked.
Fred and George nodded and George took out his wand, touched the parchment lightly and said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
And at once, thin ink lines began to spread like a spider's web from the point that George's wand had touched. They joined each other, they crisscrossed, they fanned into every corner of the parchment; then words began to blossom across the top, great, curly green words, that proclaimed:
Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Howl, Padfoot, and Prongs
Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischeif-Makers
are proud to present
THE MARAUDER'S MAP
The map seemed to show the entire school and everyone in it. It also showed a set of passages; many of which seemed to lead to—
"Right into Hogsmeade," Fred said, tracing one of them with his finger. "There are seven in all. You're best option is to use the one that leads right into the cellar of Honeydukes. We've used it loads of times. And as you might've noticed, the entrance is right outside this room, through that one-eyed old crone's hump."
"Moony, Wormtail, Howl, Padfoot, and Prongs," George sighed, patting the head of the map. "We owe them so much."
"Noble men, working tirelessly to help a new generation of lawbreakers," Fred said solemnly.
"Right," George said briskly. "Don't forget to wipe it after you've used it—"
""—or anyone can read it," Fred said warningly. "Just tap it again and say, 'Mischief managed!' And it'll go blank."
"Before you two go, Claire we need to speak to you." George said.
"Ok," Claire replied.
Fred, George, and Claire went over to the other side of the room far enough from Harry as to where he couldn't hear. Claire was the first to ask a question.
"So, when you heard about our dilemma does that mean you know that—"
"Yea," George answered. "Mum told us."
"You don't hate me do you?" Claire asked.
"What? Of course, not! You can't control who you're related to." Fred replied.
"However, if you start doing what your uncle then we may have some problems," George said. "And besides we wouldn't of given you and Harry the map if we hated you."
"Thank you," Claire thanked them.
"No problem, Claire-bear," Fred teased.
"You just had to ruin the moment, didn't you?" Claire glared at him.
Fred ignored her and headed toward the door with George following suit.
"So, young Claire and Harry," Fred said, in an uncanny impersonation of Percy, "mind you behave yourselves."
"See you in Honeydukes," George said, winking.
"And remember no snogging!" Fred said, before he ran off.
Claire groaned. "Sometimes they get on my nerves."
Harry and Claire traveled along the secret passageway. They were soon in the Honeydukes cellar. They climbed upstairs. Honeydukes was so crowded with Hogwarts students that no one looked twice at them.
"There's Ron and Hermione." Claire said to Harry.
Ron and Hermione were in the farthest corner of the shop with a sign hanging that said 'Unusual Tastes'. They were standing underneath it, examining a tray of blood-flavored lollipops. Claire and Harry sneaked up behind them.
"Ugh, no, Harry won't want on of those, they're for vampires, I expect," Hermione was saying.
"Fine. How about these for Claire? Maybe I could get back at her for making me afraid of spiders by making her afraid of cockroaches." Ron said, shoving a jar of Cockroach Clusters under Hermione's nose.
"You better not or I'll get Aragog to crawl into your bed while you're sleeping." Claire threatened.
Ron nearly dropped the jar.
"Claire! Harry!" Hermione squealed. "What are you two doing here? How—how did you—?"
Harry held up the Marauder's Map while Claire explained to them what it was.
"How come Fred and George never gave it to me!" Ron said, outraged. "I'm their brother!"
"Yea, but you're not as awesome as us. Right, Harry?" Claire teased.
"But they aren't going to keep it!" Hermione said, as though the idea was ludicrous. "They're going to hand it in to Professor McGonagall, aren't you?"
"No, we're not!" Claire and Harry said in unison.
"Are you mad?" Ron said, goggling at Hermione. "Hand in something that good?"
"If we hand in it, we'll have to say where we got it! Filch would know Fred and George had nicked it!"
"But what about Sirius Black?" Hermione hissed. "He could be using one of the passages on that map to get into the castle! The teachers have got to know!"
Claire didn't think about that. Did Black know about the passageway Claire and Harry came through? Ron,however, cleared his throat significantly, and pointed to a notice pasted on the inside of the sweetshop door. The notice said that dementors would be patrolling the streets of Hogsmeade after sundown to find Sirius Black.
"See?" Ron said quietly. "I'd like to see Black try and break into Honeydukes with dementors swarming all over the village. Anyway, Hermione, the Honeydukes owners would hear a break-in, wouldn't they? They live over the shop!"
"Yes, but—but" Hermione seemed to be struggling to find another problem. "Look, you both should still not be coming to Hogsmeade. Neither of you have a signed form! If anyone finds out, you'll be in so much trouble! And it's not nightfall yet—what if Sirius Black turns up today? Now?"
"He'd have a job spotting Claire and Harry in this," Ron said, nodding through the mullioned windows at the thick, swirling snow.
"Come on, Hermione, it's Christmas. Claire and Harry deserve a break."
Hermione bit her lip, looking extremely worried.
"Are you going to report us?" Harry asked her, grinning.
"Oh—of course not—but honestly, Harry, Claire—"
"Seen the Fizzing Whizbees, Harry, Claire?" Ron said, leading them over to their barrel.
When Ron and Hermione had paid for all their sweets, the four of them left Honeydukes for the blizzard outside. It was extremely cold outside as Ron and Hermione pointed towards the different shops such as Zonko's, the post office, and the Shrieking Shack. After a several minutes, Ron suggested they'd go to get a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks. They soon entered the Three Broomsticks. It was crowded, noisy, warm, and smoky. A curvy sort of woman with a pretty face was serving a bunch of rowdy warlocks up at the bar.
"That's Madam Rosmerta," Ron said. "I'll get the drinks, shall I?" he added, going slightly red.
"Seems like someone's got a crush," Claire teased Ron.
Claire, Harry, and Hermione made their way to the back of the room, where there was a small vacant table between the window and a handsome Christmas tree. Ron came back five minutes later with four hot butter beers.
"Merry Christmas!" he said happily, raising his tankard.
Claire took a sip of the butterbeer and thought it was delicious. Suddenly, the door of the Three Broomsticks opened again, bringing a cold wind as well as Professor McGonagall, Flitwick, Hagrid, and Fudge. In an instant, Ron and Hermione shoved Claire and Harry under the table.
"Ow!" Claire muttered as she rubbed her head. "Warn a person next time."
Claire and Harry listened to their conversation. Fudge began talking about Sirius Black breaking into Hogwarts on Halloween. Madam Rosmerta asked if he thought Black was still in the area to which Fudge replied yes. Madam Rosmerta then began to complain about the dementors ruining her business.
"All the same," Fudge demurred, "they are here to protect you all from something much worse….We all know what Black's capable of…."
"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," Madam Rosmerta said thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought…I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead."
"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," Fudge said gruffly. "The worse he did isn't widely known."
"The worst?" Madam Rosmerta said, her voice alive with curiosity. "Worse than murdering all those poor people?"
"I certainly do," Fudge said.
"I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?"
"You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," Professor McGonagall murmured. "Do you remember who his best friend was?"
Rosmerta nodded with a small laugh. "You never saw one without the other. The number of times they'd come here—ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!"
Claire and Harry looked at each other with a shocked expression. Black and Harry's father were friends?
"Precisely," Professor McGonagall said. "But let's not forget about Black's twin Carina. The three of them were the ringleaders of their little gang. They were all bright—especially Carina— but I don't think we've ever had such a group of troublemakers."
"I dunno," Hagrid chuckled. "Fred and George Weasley could give 'em a run fer their money."
"You'd of thought the three were siblings!" Professor Flitwick chimed in. "Of course, two of them were actually siblings. They were inseparable!"
"Of course they were," Fudge said. "Potter trusted both of the Black twins more than anyone else in their group of friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man and Carina was maid of honor when James married Lily. Lily was also named maid of honor at Carina's wedding when she married that John Smith fellow. Then they named Sirius godfather to Harry. Harry has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him."
"Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?" Madam Rosmerta whispered.
"Worse even than that, m'dear," Fudge dropped his voice to a low rumble.
"Not many people are aware that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm."
Rosmerta asked how a Fidelius charm worked and Flitwick said that a conceals a secret inside a single, living soul. The secret is hidden inside a chosen person (Secret-Keeper) and is impossible to find, unless the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it.
"So, Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper?" Madma Rosmerta whispered.
"Naturally," Professor McGonagall said. "James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself…..and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters' Secret-Keeper himself."
"He suspected Black?" Madam Rosmerta gasped.
"He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements," Professor McGonagall said darkly. "Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who."
"But James Potter insisted on using Black?"
"He did," Fudge said heavily. "And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed—"
"Black betrayed them?" Madam Rosmerta breathed,
"He did indeed. Black was tired of his double-agent role, he was ready to openly declare his support for You-Know-Who and he seems to have planned this for the moment of the Potters' death. But, as we all know, it turned out to be You-Know-Who's downfall not Harry Potter's. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed. His master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colors as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it—"
"Filthy, stinkin' turncoat!" Hagrid said, so loudly that half the bar went quiet.
"Shh!" Professor McGonagall said.
"I met him!" Hagrid growled. "I must bin the last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me what rescued Harry from Lily an' James's house after they was killed! Jus' got him outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across his forehead, an' his parents dead…an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' motorbike he used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin' there. I didn' know he'd bin Lily an' James's Secret-Keeper. Thought he'd jus' heard the news o' You-Know-Who's attack an' come ter see what he could do. White an' shakin', he was. An' yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN' TRAITOR!" Hagrid roared.
Professor McGonagall urged Hagrid to keep his voice down. Hagrid began breaking down saying how was he suppose to know Black wasn't sad about Lily and James's deaths and how Black fought to get Harry to live with him but Harry was sent to his uncles and how Black ended up giving Hagrid his motorbike.
"But what if I'd given Harry to him, eh? I bet he'd've pitched him off the bike halfway out ter sea. His bed' friends' son! But when a wizard goes over ter the Dark Side, there's nothin' and no one that matters to 'em anymore. I can't imagine how Carina mus've felt abou' her own brother betrayin' her best friend…."
"But he didn't manage to disappear, did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!" Madam Rosmerta said.
"It was not we who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew—another of the Potters' friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper, he went after Black himself." Fudge said.
"Pettigrew…..that little fat boy who was always tagging around aafter them at Hogwarts?" Madam Rosmerta said.
"Hero-worshipped Black and Potter," Professor McGonagall said. "Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often sharp with him. I regret that now…."She sounded as though she had a sudden head cold.
"There, now, Minerva," Fudge said kindly. "Pettigrew died a heroic death. Eyewitnesses—Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later— told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing, 'Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?' And then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens. Black was taken away by twenty member of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and Pettigrew received the Order of Merln, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Black's bern in Azkaban ever since."
Madam Rosmerta asked if Black was mad and Fudge explained his encounter with Black in Azkaban and how Black seemed normal and that Black will probably eventually rejoin You-Know-Who. They soon left and Ron and Hermione's faces appeared under the table. They were both staring at Harry, lost for words.
I just would like to say TODAY'S MY BIRTHDAY! Did you know that Lily Potter was born January 30 too? I found that out and I was so excited. So, I don't know how long the next chapter will take because I won't have anytime this weekend to write it. I'm going to be leaving later today to go to Orlando because there's a Celebration of Harry Potter going on at Universal and James and Oliver Phelps (The WEASLEY TWINS), Evanna Lynch (Luna Lovegood), Michael Gambon (Albus Dumbledore), and Robbie Coltrane (Hagrid) will be there. I hope I get to meet James, Oliver, and Evanna because they're my favorites. Anyway thanks for all the reviews and to the new followers: scarebear12, truecanadian-Eh, Themarauders21, sophiealison1998, and kayluvsall.
Reply to Reviews:
Rukia-Chappy: Glad you liked River Song!
Teckie De Cool: Thank you!
NicoleR85: Here's the new update!
TENZA: Glad you enjoyed it! Sir Cadogen was fun to write.
Rainpelt the Doctor: That's cool!
Ghostwriter71: Possibly...
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nerdfighter1309: No, but he has a connection with the master...
Themarauders21: Yep, it happens in this chapter.