A/N I've decided to update today, because a) it's half term b) I'm half-way through my exams and c) I've nearly finished this book anyway, and should start updating the chapters quicker. Hope you enjoy! Please R&R xxx
Chapter Fourteen
Percy and Padfoot
Amara and Hermione went down to breakfast the next morning to find Ron alone at the table eating himself.
"Where's Harry?" Amara asked as they sat down. Ron shrugged through a mouthful of bacon.
"Dunno, wasn't there when I woke up," he said thickly. "Maybe he's gone somewhere?"
"You think?" Amara said, but Ron missed the sarcasm and nodded.
"Morning," Harry said brightly to Amara, Ron and Hermione, as he joined them at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall a while after they'd entered themselves.
"What are you looking so pleased about?" said Ron, eyeing Harry in surprise.
"Erm . . . Quidditch later," said Harry happily, pulling a large platter of bacon and eggs toward him.
"Oh . . . yeah . . ." said Ron. He put down the bit of toast he was eating and took a large swig of pumpkin juice. Then he said, "Listen . . . you don't fancy going out a bit earlier with me, do you? Just to — er — give me some practice before training? So I can, you know, get my eye in a bit . . ."
"Yeah, okay," said Harry.
"Look, I don't think you should," said Hermione seriously, "you're both really behind on homework as it —"
But she broke off; the morning post was arriving and, as usual, the Daily Prophet was soaring toward her in the beak of a screech owl, which landed perilously close to the sugar bowl and held out a leg; Hermione pushed a Knut into its leather pouch, took the newspaper, and scanned the front page critically as the owl took off again.
"Anything interesting?" said Ron quickly, clearly pleased there was a distraction.
"No," she sighed, "just some guff about the bass player in the Weird Sisters getting married. . . ."
"Why anyone wants to know that..." Amara muttered, looking at her toast in her hand and biting into it. "Beyond me," she finished thickly.
Hermione opened the paper and disappeared behind it. Harry devoted himself to another helping of eggs and bacon, and Amara made herself a bacon and egg sandwich, which she enjoyed immensely.
"Wait a moment," said Hermione suddenly, making Amara drop the bit of sausage she was now eating. "Oh no . . . Sirius!"
"What's happened?" said Harry, and he snatched at the paper so violently that it ripped down the middle so that he and Hermione were holding half each.
" 'The Ministry of Magic has received a tip-off from a reliable source that Sirius Black, notorious mass murderer . . . blah blah blah . . . is currently hiding in London!' " Hermione read from her half in an anguished whisper.
"Lucius Malfoy, I'll bet anything," said Harry in a low, furious voice. "He did recognize Sirius on the platform. . . ."
"Knew it!" Amara said as Ron said (while looking alarmed) "What? You didn't say —"
"Shh!" said Harry and Hermione.
". . . 'Ministry warns Wizarding community that Black is very dangerous . . . killed thirteen people . . . broke out of Azkaban . . .' the usual rubbish," Hermione concluded, laying down her half of the paper and looking fearfully at Amara, Harry and Ron. "Well, he just won't be able to leave the house again, that's all," she whispered. "Dumbledore did warn him not to."
Amara looked sadly at the bit of sausage on her plate. She'd thought it was nice for Sirius to come with them, give him a bit of fresh air. But that too seemed to dangerous now.
"Hey!" Harry said, flattening his piece of the newspaper down so Amara, Hermione and Ron could both see it. "Look at this!"
"I've got all the robes I want," said Ron.
"No," said Harry, "look . . . this little piece here . . ."
Amara, Ron and Hermione bent closer to read it; the item was barely an inch long and placed right at the bottom of a column. It was head- lined:
TRESPASS AT MINISTRY
Sturgis Podmore, 38, of number two, Laburnum Gardens, Clapham, has appeared in front of the Wizengamot charged with trespass and attempted robbery at the Ministry of Magic on 31st August. Podmore was arrested by Ministry of Magic watch- wizard Eric Munch, who found him attempting to force his way through a top-security door at one o'clock in the morning. Podmore, who refused to speak in his own defence, was convicted on both charges and sentenced to six months in Azkaban.
"Sturgis Podmore?" said Ron slowly, "but he's that bloke who looks like his head's been thatched, isn't he? He's one of the Ord —"
"Ron, shh!" said Hermione, casting a terrified look around them.
"Six months in Azkaban!" whispered Harry, shocked. "Just for trying to get through a door!"
"Don't be stupid," said Amara. "The door must've been important - but at one o'clock in the morning?"
"D'you reckon he was doing something for the Order?" Ron muttered.
"Wait a moment. . . ." said Harry slowly. "Sturgis was supposed to come and see us off, remember?"
The other three looked at him.
"Yeah, he was supposed to be part of our guard going to King's Cross, remember? And Moody was all annoyed because he didn't turn up, so that doesn't seem like he was supposed to be on a job for them, does it?"
"Well, maybe they didn't expect him to get caught," said Hermione.
"It could be a frame-up!" Ron exclaimed excitedly. "No — listen!" he went on, dropping his voice dramatically at the threatening look on Hermione's face. "The Ministry suspects he's one of Dumbledore's lot so — I dunno — they lured him to the Ministry, and he wasn't trying to get through a door at all! Maybe they've just made something up to get him!"
There was a pause while Amara, Harry and Hermione considered this. Harry thought it seemed far-fetched; Amara thought the same but it could be true; Hermione, on the other hand, was rather impressed and said, "Do you know, I wouldn't be at all surprised if that were true."
She folded up her half of the newspaper thoughtfully. When Harry laid down his knife and fork she seemed to come out of a reverie.
"Right, well, I think we should tackle that essay for Sprout on Self-Fertilising Shrubs first, and if we're lucky we'll be able to start McGonagall's Inanimatus Conjurus before lunch. . . ."
Amara refused to join Harry and Ron in their Quidditch practise, because she'd helped Ron all week and needed to do her homework. So she and Hermione, after the latter had given the two boys dire warnings that they'd fail their exams, went up to the Gryffindor common room to collect their things. Amara decided that as it was such a nice day, they should do their essays outside in the sunshine. So they took their things outside and made good progress in their essay pile. As Ron and Harry weren't there to distract them, they whizzed through both McGonagall's and Sprout's essays before lunch.
They went back to the Great Hall for lunch, where Hermione was still annoyed at the two boys for not doing their work, before they went up to Gryffindor Tower once more to do Professor Sinistra's essay on Jupiter's moons.
This was the worst essay she did, and Hermione had to help her after a while because she nearly gave up completely.
However by dinner Amara was home free because she'd done all her homework and still had another day of the weekend to relax. Hermione and Amara sat in the Gryffindor common room - Amara lying down reading whilst Hermione made little hats.
"How was practice?" asked Hermione rather coolly when Harry and Ron climbed through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room.
"It was —" Harry began.
"Completely lousy," said Ron in a hollow voice, sinking into a chair beside Hermione.
"It was your first one," Amara said. "Not everyone is perf -"
"Who said it was me who made it lousy?" snapped Ron. Amara stared at him. Ron had never snapped at her like that before. Amara frowned at him.
"Well considering you're the new one I guessed -"
"Thanks for the support," Ron said angrily.
"Fine," Amara snapped and she jumped off the sofa and stormed off to where Fred and George were sitting together on a sofa, still in their Quidditch robes.
"What's the matter?" Fred said as she flopped herself in between them, crossed her arms and scowled over to where Ron was.
"Ron," she said angrily. "He said practise was lousy -"
"Understatement," George said easily.
" - and so I assumed it was him and he got all defensive and said I didn't support him which is so unfair, I practised with him every night this week!"
Fred and George consoled her.
"He was pretty lousy," Fred said. "The Slytherins didn't help - but he'll come round."
Amara sighed and leant back on the sofa. Fred's arm was on the back of it and she rested her head against it.
"I hate fifth year and Umbridge," Amara said.
"So do we," nodded George. Amara went back to reading her book, resting against Fred for the remainder of the evening, while Fred and George talked over her.
She must have fallen asleep at one point because she woke up and had a blanket round her, and Fred was snoozing next to her whilst George was gone. It was also very late. She must've shifted, because Fred woke up.
"Tired?"
Amara nodded.
"Where's George?"
"Gone to bed," said Fred.
"Why didn't you?"
"You were too comfortable," Fred said.
"You could've moved me," Amara grinned. She was very pleased he didn't.
-OOOOO-
Amara and Hermione spent a day without Ron and Harry again because they were hauled up in the common room doing homework the entire day.
Amara spent most of it outside with her sister and brother and Eddie (Tessie's friends Aubrey and Joey didn't know them that well yet) lounging under a tree enjoying the last of the sunshine.
Ethan and Eddie, both of whom had grown over the summer and now were taller than Amara, complained about Romilda Vane, the girl who kept hanging out with them.
"And now she's brought her other stupid friend over, Valerie Olivers, who's just as annoying," Eddie groaned. "Why do we care that Harley Brentworth broke up with Jenny over the summer and may or may not want to ask out Romilda?"
"She's probably hinting that you should ask her out before he does," Amara said.
"What?" Eddie said, who Amara knew very well now. "Why can't they just say that?"
"I dunno," said Amara. "Girls are girls, but you are so like Ron."
"I don't want to ask her out anyway," said Eddie. "I'm asking Kaia Kingston to Hogsmeade instead."
"Kaia Kingston?" Ethan said. "She's the most popular third-year Ravenclaw!"
"So what?" Eddie said. "Heard she likes me. And she's friends with Nellie Wilkins."
Ethan seemed to perk up.
"She's friends with Nellie? Our Nellie, Nellie from Gryffindor?"
"Yeah," said Eddie.
Tessie groaned.
"Shut up about girls alright? Let's talk about something else."
"Where's Flick and Piper?" Amara asked. She hadn't seen them around as much lately.
"Eddie and Piper had an argument," said Ethan. "And Flick hates Romilda, so she doesn't want to be around us much. We're trying to get her off so they can come back."
They ate lunch together too, and Amara enjoyed it immensely – she never got the chance to hang around with her siblings anymore. After lunch, Eddie and Ethan went to play Quidditch with a few friends, whilst Tessie brought her friends Aubrey Wilson and Joey Blishwick for a walk with them. Aubrey was rather shy, but Joey was a real chatterbox. Amara didn't mind, because Joey Blishwick was a very interesting person.
She nearly always had no shoes on, even around the castle, except when she had to wear her school shoes during school time. She was used to going around barefoot all the time, she told Amara as they walked through the grounds. Joey said that she hated her name, which was after her late, strictly-pureblood grandmother, who didn't approve of the family "We live in a caravan, that's why," Joey explained. "Because Mum thought it be cool. Dad made extensions and stuff. We live with other wizards who live in caravans too. We've lived in Ireland, Wales and Scotland. Ireland was the best, so we moved back relatively quickly." Along with living in a wizard-modified caravan in a sort of community of other travellers, they did muggle festivals and events. "We make special things out of the stuff we find, and use a bit of magic to make them sell better." Their caravan was so big because Joey had five other brothers and sisters, three cousins (their parents, Joey's Dad's sister, had died so they took them into their community) and her Mum's ageing grandparents ("The non-pureblood supremacy ones," Joey said). Amara had never heard of wizard travellers and she thought it sound very fun. The first-year reminded her of Luna Lovegood, not because of what she believed (she did believe Harry, because their family hated the Ministry, because they didn't like them interacting with muggles so much and not having normal wizard jobs) but because of the things she wore. Her bracelets lured away evil spirits and she wore floaty clothing that seemed to be handmade. That day, she was wearing a wreath of daises in her hair.
It made Tessie's other friend Aubrey sound very dull indeed, even though her uncle (her mum's brother) was Darren Floyd, a Beater on the Welsh National Quidditch Team and got to go to loads of games.
On the subject of Quidditch, Tessie eagerly told her that she was the best in her class at Quidditch, and it maybe because Amara and Ethan taught her it a year ago, or because she was a natural already.
"When there's spaces I'm going to try out," Tessie said eagerly. "It probably won't be for a couple of years."
"She'll be good at Seeking," said Aubrey.
The rest of the afternoon past in a blaze of sunshine – when the sun set, Amara met with Hermione in the Gryffindor common room and they sat with Ginny talking about this, that and everything, and watching Ron and Harry get deeper in their pile of books.
At half-past eleven, Hermione and Amara wandered over to them, both yawning.
"Nearly done?" asked Hermione
"No," said Ron shortly.
"Jupiter's biggest moon is Ganymede, not Callisto," she said, pointing over Ron's shoulder at a line in his Astronomy essay, "and it's Io that's got the volcanos."
"Thanks," snarled Ron, scratching out the offending sentences.
"Sorry, I only —"
"Yeah, well, if you've just come over here to criticize —"
Amara ignored their jibes as she saw a very familiar owl perched at the window, gazing at Ron.
"Ron —"
"I haven't got time to listen to a sermon, all right, Hermione, I'm up to my neck in it here —"
"Shut up!" Amara said. "Look outside!"
Harry and Ron both looked over.
"Isn't that Hermes?" said Hermione, sounding amazed.
"Blimey, it is!" said Ron quietly, throwing down his quill and getting to his feet. "What's Percy writing to me for?"
He crossed to the window and opened it; Hermes flew inside, landed upon Ron's essay, and held out a leg to which a letter was attached. Ron took it off and the owl departed at once, leaving inky footprints across Ron's drawing of the moon Io.
"That's definitely Percy's handwriting," said Ron, sinking back into his chair and staring at the words on the outside of the scroll: To Ronald Weasley, Gryffindor House, Hogwarts. He looked up at the other three. "What d'you reckon?"
"Open it!" said Hermione eagerly. Harry and Amara nodded.
Ron unrolled the scroll and began to read. The farther down the parchment his eyes travelled, the more pronounced became his scowl. When he had finished reading, he looked disgusted. He thrust the letter at Amara, Harry and Hermione, who leaned toward each other to read it together:
Dear Ron,
I have only just heard (from no less a person than the Minister of Magic himself, who has it from your new teacher, Professor Umbridge) that you have become a Hogwarts prefect.
I was most pleasantly surprised when I heard this news and must firstly offer my congratulations. I must admit that I have always been afraid that you would take what we might call the "Fred and George" route, rather than following in my footsteps, so you can imagine my feelings on hearing you have stopped flouting authority and have decided to shoulder some real responsibility.
But I want to give you more than congratulations, Ron, I want to give you some advice, which is why I am sending this at night rather than by the usual morning post. Hopefully you will be able to read this away from prying eyes and avoid awkward questions.
From something the Minister let slip when telling me you are now a prefect, I gather that you are still seeing a lot of Harry Potter. I must tell you, Ron, that nothing could put you in danger of losing your badge more than continued fraternization with that boy. Yes, I am sure you are surprised to hear this — no doubt you will say that Potter has always been Dumbledore's favourite — but I feel bound to tell you that Dumbledore may not be in charge at Hogwarts much longer and the people who count have a very different — and probably more accurate — view of Potters behaviour. I shall say no more here, but if you look at the Daily Prophet tomorrow you will get a good idea of the way the wind is blowing — and see if you can spot yours truly!
Seriously, Ron, you do not want to be tarred with the same brush as Potter, it could be very damaging to your future prospects, and I am talking here about life after school too. As you must be aware, given that our father escorted him to court, Potter had a disciplinary hearing this summer in front of the whole Wizengamot and he did not come out of it looking too good. He got off on a mere technicality if you ask me and many of the people I've spoken to remain convinced of his guilt.
It may be that you are afraid to sever ties with Potter — I know that he can be unbalanced and, for all I know, violent — but if you have any worries about this, or have spotted anything else in Potter's behaviour that is troubling you, I urge you to speak to Dolores Umbridge, a really delightful woman, who I know will be only too happy to advise you.
This leads me to my other bit of advice. As I have hinted above, Dumbledore's regime at Hogwarts may soon be over. Your loyalty, Ron, should be not to him, but to the school and the Ministry. I am very sorry to hear that so far Professor Umbridge is encountering very little cooperation from staff as she strives to make those necessary changes within Hogwarts that the Ministry so ardently desires (although she should find this easier from next week — again, see the Prophet tomorrow!). I shall say only this — a student who shows himself willing to help Professor Umbridge now may be very well placed for Head Boyship in a couple of years!
I am sorry that I was unable to see more of you over the summer. It pains me to criticise our parents, but I am afraid I can no longer live under their roof while they remain mixed up with the dangerous crowd around Dumbledore (if you are writing to Mother at any point, you might tell her that a certain Sturgis Podmore, who is a great friend of Dumbledore's, has recently been sent to Azkaban for trespass at the Ministry. Perhaps that will open their eyes to the kind of petty criminals with whom they are currently rubbing shoulders). I count myself very lucky to have escaped the stigma of association with such people — the Minister really could not be more gracious to me — and I do hope, Ron, that you will not allow family ties to blind you to the misguided nature of our parents' beliefs and actions either. I sincerely hope that, in time, they will realise how mistaken they were and I shall, of course, be ready to accept a full apology when that day comes.
Please think over what I have said most carefully, particularly the bit about Harry Potter, and congratulations again on becoming prefect.
Your brother,
Percy
Amara was left gaping at the letter.
"All that bogus because you were made a Prefect?" Amara snorted. "What, if you get it you can become King or something?" Hermione looked slightly offended, but Harry had finished reading too.
"Well," he said, "if you want to — er — what is it?" (He checked Percy's letter.) "Oh yeah — 'sever ties' with me, I swear I won't get violent."
"Give it back," said Ron, holding out his hand. "He is —" Ron said jerkily, tearing Percy's letter in half, "the world's" — he tore it into quarters — "biggest" — he tore it into eighths — "git." He threw the pieces into the fire.
"Come on, we've got to get this finished some time before dawn," he said briskly to Harry, pulling Professor Sinistra's essay back toward him.
Hermione was looking at Ron with an odd expression on her face. "Oh, give them here," she said abruptly.
"What?" said Ron.
"Give them to me, I'll look through them and correct them," she said.
"Are you serious? Ah, Hermione, you're a lifesaver," said Ron, "what can I — ?"
"What you can say is, 'We promise we'll never leave our homework this late again,' " she said, holding out both hands for their essays, but she looked slightly amused all the same.
"Thanks a million, Hermione," said Harry weakly, passing over his essay and sinking back into his armchair, rubbing his eyes.
The common room was now empty of people, as it was past midnight and any sane person would be in bed. Amara herself was very tired now, so she lay back on the couch closest to the other three and started to doze. She was not roused until Hermione started speaking again.
"Okay, write that down," Hermione said to Ron, pushing his essay and a sheet covered in her own writing back to Ron, "and then copy out this conclusion that I've written for you."
"Hermione, you are honestly the most wonderful person I've ever met," said Ron weakly, "and if I'm ever rude to you again —"
"— I'll know you're back to normal," said Hermione. "Harry, yours is okay except for this bit at the end, I think you must have misheard Professor Sinistra, Europa's covered in ice, not mice — Harry?"
Amara yawned and stretched, and then looked over to see Harry crouching on the hearthrug, gazing into the flames.
"Er, Harry that's the fire," she said uncertainly.
"Why are you down there?" said Ron.
"Because I've just seen Sirius's head in the fire," said Harry calmly.
"Sirius's head?" Hermione repeated. "You mean like when he wanted to talk to you during the Triwizard Tournament? But he wouldn't do that now, it would be too — Sirius!"
She gasped, gazing at the fire; Ron dropped his quill and Amara fell off the couch and onto the floor. There in the middle of the dancing flames sat Sirius's head, long dark hair falling around his grinning face.
"I was starting to think you'd go to bed before everyone else had disappeared," he said. "I've been checking every hour."
"You've been popping into the fire every hour?" Harry said, half laughing.
"Just for a few seconds to check if the coast was clear yet."
"But what if you'd been seen?" said Hermione anxiously.
"Well, I think a girl — first year by the look of her — might've got a glimpse of me earlier, but don't worry," Sirius said hastily, as Hermione clapped a hand to her mouth. "I was gone the moment she looked back at me and I'll bet she just thought I was an oddly shaped log or something."
"But Sirius, this is taking an awful risk —" Hermione began.
"You sound like Molly," said Sirius. "This was the only way I could come up with of answering Harry's letter without resorting to a code — and codes are breakable."
Amara, Ron and Hermione stared at Harry. What letter was he talking about?
"You didn't say you'd written to Sirius!" said Hermione accusingly.
"I forgot," said Harry. "Don't look at me like that, Hermione, there was no way anyone would have got secret information out of it, was there, Sirius?"
"No, it was very good," said Sirius, smiling. "Anyway, we'd better be quick, just in case we're disturbed — your scar."
"What about — ?" Ron began and Amara was with him, but Hermione said quickly, "We'll tell you afterward, go on, Sirius."
"Well, I know it can't be fun when it hurts, but we don't think it's anything to really worry about. It kept aching all last year, didn't it?"
"Yeah, and Dumbledore said it happened whenever Voldemort was feeling a powerful emotion," said Harry. "So maybe he was just, I dunno, really angry or something the night I had that detention."
"Well, now he's back it's bound to hurt more often," said Sirius.
"So you don't think it had anything to do with Umbridge touching me when I was in detention with her?" Harry asked.
"I doubt it," said Sirius. "I know her by reputation and I'm sure she's no Death Eater —"
"She's foul enough to be one," said Harry darkly and Amara, Ron and Hermione nodded vigorously in agreement.
"Yes, but the world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters," said Sirius with a wry smile. "I know she's a nasty piece of work, though — you should hear Remus talk about her."
"Does Lupin know her?" asked Harry quickly.
"No," said Sirius, "but she drafted a bit of anti-werewolf legislation two years ago that makes it almost impossible for him to get a job."
Amara hated Umbridge even more for that. What does she have against half-breeds?
"What's she got against werewolves?" said Hermione angrily.
"Scared of them, I expect," said Sirius, smiling at her indignation. "Apparently she loathes part-humans; she campaigned to have merpeople rounded up and tagged last year too. Imagine wasting your time and energy persecuting merpeople when there are little toerags like Kreacher on the loose —"
Ron laughed but Hermione looked upset.
"Sirius!" she began reproachfully, but Amar interrupted.
"Why would anyone care about merpeople anyway?" Amara scoffed and Sirius grinned.
"So what are Umbridge's lessons like?" Sirius said. "Is she training you all to kill half-breeds?"
"No," said Harry.. "She's not letting us use magic at all!"
"All we do is read the stupid textbook," said Ron.
"Ah, well, that figures," said Sirius. "Our information from inside the Ministry is that Fudge doesn't want you trained in combat."
"Trained in combat?" repeated Harry incredulously. "What does he think we're doing here, forming some sort of wizard army?"
"That's exactly what he thinks you're doing," said Sirius, "or rather, that's exactly what he's afraid Dumbledore's doing — forming his own private army, with which he will be able to take on the Ministry of Magic."
There was a pause at this, then Ron said, "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, including all the stuff that Luna Lovegood comes out with."
"So we're being prevented from learning Defence Against the Dark Arts because Fudge is scared we'll use spells against the Ministry?" said Hermione, looking furious.
"Yep," said Sirius. "Fudge thinks Dumbledore will stop at nothing to seize power. He's getting more paranoid about Dumbledore by the day. It's a matter of time before he has Dumbledore arrested on some trumped-up charge."
"D'you know if there's going to be anything about Dumbledore in the Daily Prophet tomorrow? Only Ron's brother Percy reckons there will be —"
"I don't know," said Sirius, "I haven't seen anyone from the Order all weekend, they're all busy. It's just been Kreacher and me here. . . ."
There was a definite note of bitterness in Sirius's voice.
"So you haven't had any news about Hagrid, either?"
"Ah . . ." said Sirius, "well, he was supposed to be back by now, no one's sure what's happened to him." Then, seeing their stricken faces, he added quickly, "But Dumbledore's not worried, so don't you three get yourselves in a state; I'm sure Hagrid's fine."
"But if he was supposed to be back by now . . ." said Hermione in a small, worried voice.
"Madame Maxime was with him, we've been in touch with her and she says they got separated on the journey home — but there's nothing to suggest he's hurt or — well, nothing to suggest he's not perfectly okay."
Amara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged worried looks.
"Listen, don't go asking too many questions about Hagrid," said Sirius hastily, "it'll just draw even more attention to the fact that he's not back, and I know Dumbledore doesn't want that. Hagrid's tough, he'll be okay." And when they did not appear cheered by this, Sirius added, "When's your next Hogsmeade weekend anyway? I was thinking, we got away with the dog disguise at the station, didn't we? I thought I could —"
"NO!" said Amara, Harry and Hermione together, very loudly.
"Sirius, didn't you see the Daily Prophet?" said Hermione anxiously.
"Oh that," said Sirius, grinning, "they're always guessing where I am, they haven't really got a clue —"
"Yeah, but we think this time they have," said Harry. "Something Malfoy said on the train made us think he knew it was you, and his father was on the platform, Sirius — you know, Lucius Malfoy — so don't come up here, whatever you do, if Malfoy recognises you again —"
"All right, all right, I've got the point," said Sirius. He looked very annoyed. "Just an idea, thought you might like to get together —"
"I would, I just don't want you chucked back in Azkaban!" said Harry.
There was a pause in which Sirius looked out of the fire at Harry, a crease between his sunken eyes.
"You're less like your father than I thought," he said finally, a definite coolness in his voice. "The risk would've been what made it fun for James."
This made Amara angry. Harry wasn't like James, and even Harry's father wouldn't risk Sirius getting thrown back into Azkaban, or given the Dementor's Kiss.
"Look —"
"Well, I'd better get going, I can hear Kreacher coming down the stairs," said Sirius quickly. "I'll write to tell you a time I can make it back into the fire, then, shall I? If you can stand to risk it?"
There was a tiny pop, and the place where Sirius's head had been was flickering flame once more, and it left Amara feeling worse than she had before he'd been there.