63. A Matter of Time
The animosity between Gryffindor and Slytherin skyrocketed and the mounting tension in the castle was palpable around the Easter holidays. The upcoming Quidditch match was the primary reason for all the agitation but not the only one. The exams were also looming. And the worst news by far came out of London.
"The Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures has decided to execute Buckbeak. They will set the date for the appeal shortly – and the execution," Albus told Minerva sombrely.
She struggled against a sudden surge of disbelief, followed by sadness. "Executed? They can't be serious! Oh, I feel so sorry for Hagrid."
"And for Buckbeak, I'd say, but yes, this will be very hard on Hagrid."
And hard on Albus, too. In a roundabout way he had put Hagrid and Buckbeak in this position by making Hagrid their Care of Magical Creatures professor. No one could have seen this coming, but that wouldn't stop Albus from blaming himself.
"I tried to talk to the Committee, but opening hearts and minds that are completely closed off to the idea of showing even a little compassion is beyond my abilities."
Minerva took a step towards him and smoothed his white hair out of his face. "You can't fix everything, Albus, and no one expects you to."
He caught hold of her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. "I'll try again when they come up here for the 'appeal' and I'll keep Hagrid company should they go through with it. It might be right around the time for the exams…"
"I can handle all of that. You do what you have to do, though I don't think anyone should have to see something like that," Minerva said because she didn't know how to make this situation any better. If Albus hadn't been successful so far, she suspected that there was nothing anyone could do.
She was still a little lost in thought when she ran into Hermione Granger the next day. "What are you doing here, Miss Granger? Shouldn't you be in class?" she asked, glad for the distraction.
Miss Granger looked as upset as Minerva had ever seen her. "I'm really sorry, Professor, but I quit!" she exclaimed angrily.
"You quit what?" Minerva asked worriedly, her brow creasing.
"Divination!" Granger spat. "I know I told you that I wouldn't drop any of my classes and that I would study hard to make the most of the opportunity you gave me, but… Professor Trelawney… she said my mind was hopelessly mundane!"
Minerva's sudden concern vanished into thin air and was replaced by a knowing smile. "Well, if it's any consolation to you, I was once told that I'm entirely unqualified for studying Divination, too."
Miss Granger looked so surprised that she seemed to forget some of her anger. "You… you were?"
"Oh yes, and yet somehow I've managed to live a full and happy life, so I dare say that you'll be just fine," Minerva assured her.
Ever so slowly, Miss Granger's face split into a grin. "Thanks, Professor. I'll hurry back to the common room then and finish my Arithmancy homework."
"That sounds like a significantly more valuable use of your time," Minerva agreed and laughed quietly as she watched the girl go.
The Easter holidays passed quickly until the day of the Quidditch Final had finally arrived. Which was good because Gryffindors and Slytherins were at each other's throats by now. The game started off in the exact same way. There were so many fouls and penalties that Rolanda didn't even bother to take the whistle out of her mouth for even a second. It was a gritty, physical game. Minerva had once played in a couple of those herself. The dirty tactics that the Slytherin team liked to employ hadn't changed one bit in all these years. But being up in the air, in the thick of the action, being able to fight for that win was different than being forced to watch helplessly from the stands. Minerva could only try to censor Lee Jordan and when that didn't help, she started yelling at the Slytherin players right along with him.
But she hadn't picked the youngest and bravest Seeker to ever play the game for Gryffindor for nothing. And Potter wasn't just flying on an ordinary broom. He had that Firebolt now and he knew how to use it.
He won the game for Gryffindor. As he had done several times in the past three years. But this time they hadn't just won the game. They had won the Championship.
They were Quidditch Champions. For the first time in eight years.
Minerva couldn't say why, but her mind flashed back to the last game of Quidditch she had ever played here at Hogwarts. It had been against Slytherin, too, and the Championship had been on the line. Unlike Potter, Minerva had failed. She had been knocked off her broom and lost the game as well as the Championship. She had succeeded at a lot of other things, becoming an Animagus, graduating at the top of her class, but she had never forgotten her defeat on the Quidditch pitch.
She knew that this win belonged to the team and the students. It had little to do with her and her own loss from so many years ago. And yet, every time Gryffindor won, she felt a little bit vindicated. As silly as that was, it reduced Minerva to tears. She couldn't even bring herself to feel embarrassed. She wept openly until a laughing Lee Jordan handed her a giant Gryffindor flag.
"There you go, Professor. Just let it all out. It really was a great season, wasn't it? Sorry about saying all the wrong things sometimes, but you know it's just what everybody's thinking anyway!"
Minerva didn't bother to respond. She used the flag to wipe her eyes instead.
She kept needing to dry her tears when Albus handed the Quidditch Cup to Oliver Wood with a broad smile. Wood planted a sloppy kiss on the Cup before he gave it to the Weasley twins, who punched the air with their fists. The Cup then went to the Chasers Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell, who jumped up and down and around in a circle, until they finally let Potter have it. He still got the biggest cheers from the crowd. Grinning from ear to ear, Harry turned around and held the Cup out to Minerva.
"We did it, Professor!" he cheered.
"You did," she managed to correct him while she accepted the Cup. "I knew you would from the first time I saw you on a broomstick. Well done, Potter! I couldn't be prouder."
He beamed at her and then returned to celebrating with his friends. Everything was just as it should be.
Minerva was left holding the Cup. She took it to her office and after she had found the perfect spot to display it, she sat in her chair and looked at it for a while.
Eventually, the door opened and Albus walked in. He perched on the edge of her desk and glanced at where she had made room for the Cup. "Very nice. But are you accompanying me to dinner or are you planning on sitting here for the rest of the day?"
"I'm enjoying the moment," she informed him.
"And so you should," he said, smiling cheerfully. "I rather enjoyed giving the Cup to your team as well."
"The funny thing is, I always wanted it to be the other way around," Minerva told him.
Albus frowned. "You wanted the team to give me the Cup?"
Minerva tore her eyes away from it to look up at Albus. "Back when I was still in school, I wanted to be the one to give the Cup to you. I wanted to become captain of the Gryffindor team, win the Championship and present you with the Cup."
"That's very sweet of you. But you know I wouldn't really have cared about that."
"I know you didn't care about Quidditch, but you always looked happy when Gryffindor won!" Minerva protested.
"Oh, I was," Albus nodded, "because it meant that I didn't have to listen to Horace's bragging and, more importantly, I was happy because you were happy. Or any of the other Gryffindor players, not just you," he added quickly.
Minerva shot him an amused look.
"All right, maybe I was especially happy when you were happy," he admitted with an almost boyish smile.
"And that's exactly why I wanted to win the Championship for you."
Albus looked at her thoughtfully before he said, "You asked me once how I felt about you back then, but I don't think you ever told me what you felt for me, not specifically."
"I always thought you never asked me that because you were afraid to hear the answer," Minerva said teasingly.
"We must all face our fears at one point or another," Albus quipped.
"Don't worry. I'm not going to say that I was in love with you – because I had no idea what love was. It could have hit me in the face and I wouldn't have recognised it." Minerva gave him a little self-deprecating grin before it faded away and she continued in all honesty. "But I adored you. I was desperate to prove to you that I was worthy of your trust and mentorship and, the older and braver I got, your friendship. Because I respected you more than anyone I had ever met. And I still do."
Albus' eyes lingered on her, bright and luminous, before he leaned in closer. "That was and still is worth more to me than any championship, win or loss, ever could be."
He was right, of course. But seeing that Cup in her office still filled Minerva with a special kind of joy, on top of the one she was generally feeling in Albus' company.
And so she didn't say anything else and answered him with a celebratory kiss.
Buckbeak's appeal took place on June 6th. Albus failed once again to convince Fudge or the Committee to change their minds. It wasn't very surprising, considering they had brought the executioner with them to the appeal. There was nothing left for Albus to do other than to keep his promise. He walked down to Hagrid's cabin so there would be one friendly face at least. It was cold comfort, but it was all he had to offer.
And then something strange and wonderful happened. Buckbeak disappeared.
Macnair was convinced that somebody must have freed the Hippogriff. It was indeed the most likely explanation. Thankfully, they had all seen Buckbeak tied up behind the cabin when they had arrived. Since Hagrid had been inside with them the whole time, no one could blame him for untying Buckbeak or prove that he knew who had done it. One look at his surprised face that slowly split into the broadest and happiest of grins made it perfectly clear that he really had no idea.
As it turned out, the strange events of that night were only just beginning to unfold.
Albus returned to the castle to have a late dinner with Fudge. The minister was in a real state, worried that the Daily Prophet would have a field day when they heard about Buckbeak's escape. Albus listened to his concerns with a polite but rather fixed smile. Tomorrow's headlines interested him far less than Buckbeak's mysterious saviour.
It was past eleven when Filch burst into the room. He was completely out of breath and his eyes were nearly popping out of his head. With some difficulty he managed to tell them that they needed to come quick. When they did as he asked, Albus understood the caretaker's shock.
They had made their way into the Entrance Hall where they met Severus Snape. His robes were dirty and he had a nasty cut on his forehead, but it didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. Three stretchers floated next to him, carrying three students. Albus' eyes hastily scanned all three of them, already knowing who he would find. Harry, Mr Weasley and Miss Granger all appeared to be unconscious. That, too, didn't seem to bother Severus. Just the opposite. He looked happier than Albus had ever seen him, euphoric even, flushed with triumph.
The reason for that was painfully obvious. There was one other person whom Severus dragged along with him, bound, gagged and unable to move, except for the eyes. The eyes were alive, looking around wildly.
Sirius Black.
Fudge literally fell over himself to get to Black and to congratulate Severus on catching him. Albus stood still for a moment. Only his eyes darted back and forth, almost like Black's did, while he tried to make sense of the different pieces that had been laid out here before him, tried to figure out what to do with them.
"We need to alert the Dementors, of course, but where to put Black in the meantime?" Fudge was wondering.
"We can lock him in Professor Flitwick's office for now," Albus suggested.
Severus' eyes narrowed suspiciously. Fudge looked confused. "Why? Wouldn't the dungeons be…"
"Filius is our Charms master. He has personally put many protective enchantments on his office and it's all the way up on the seventh floor. Black has amply demonstrated that he knows Hogwarts and its secret passageways better than anyone," Albus explained. "But the only way out of a room on the seventh floor is to sprout wings."
"This is your school, so you know best, I suppose," Fudge said, impatient to get on with things. "It's only temporary anyway. The Dementors won't dilly-dally once I tell them that they finally get their chance to perform the Kiss on Black."
"First," Albus said sharply, "we need to make sure that these students are all right."
"Oh, of course," Fudge agreed, a little chagrined.
They locked Black in Flitwick's office and brought Harry, Ron and Hermione to the hospital wing. While Madam Pomfrey looked after them, Severus told them what happened.
"Earlier tonight I noticed that Lupin hadn't taken his potion yet, so I went to bring him some because I was concerned about his and the students' safety, very concerned."
"Naturally, naturally," Fudge nodded eagerly. Severus struggled to keep a straight face while Albus gave him a hard stare.
"When I couldn't find Lupin anywhere, I knew that his absence must have something to do with Black since they'd been such close friends. I've been saying that all year," Severus seized the opportunity to mention that again.
To his credit, Fudge remained sceptical. "Well, yes, but Lupin was friends with the Potters, too, and he never seemed to know anything about what Black had done, the poor fellow..."
"But he did know his old hideout here at Hogwarts," Severus moved on quickly. "The Shrieking Shack. That's where I found them. Black, these three students and Lupin."
Fudge gasped. "You're not saying that Lupin was actually helping Black...?"
This time Albus stepped in before Severus could continue with this little charade. "I'm sure – just like Severus here – Remus was there to protect Harry. And in any case, he's not here to explain himself, so it wouldn't be fair to judge his actions prematurely."
Looking back and forth between Albus and Severus, who were trading glares, Fudge bobbed his head. "Right, right. So back to you, Severus. You had found Black with Harry – Merlin's beard, I shudder to think what could have happened – so that's when you apprehended Black?"
"I did, but there was a... complication on the way back to the castle." Severus seemed to ponder how best to put this or, as Albus suspected, how best to lie about it. "Poor Lupin transformed and since he wasn't safe, he could have killed all of us."
Fudge's mouth had fallen open. "How did you defend yourself against a werewolf?"
For once Severus' smug look wavered when he had to confess that he had done no such thing. "I didn't have to. Something else caught his attention in the Forbidden Forest and he ran off. Black used the distraction to try and escape again. But by now the Dementors had noticed us and they attacked Black, Potter and Granger. Weasley was with me because of his leg that Black had injured earlier."
"Now wait a minute, Severus!" Fudge protested. "Surely the Dementors only attacked Black, not Harry and Miss, er, Grant."
"No, Minister. They attacked all three of them and they would have kissed them all."
"But... no... that... that can't be right..." Helplessly, Fudge looked to Albus.
"It's what I've been telling you all year, Cornelius," he reminded him pointedly.
Fudge wrung his hands, unsure how to deal with this. "Obviously, Harry and the others are fine..." (Poppy huffed in exasperation.) "What convinced the Dementors to stop?"
"That I can't tell you, Minister. They were already retreating when I caught up with Black to take him into custody again." Severus was anxious to return to the matter at hand.
And Fudge obliged him. The gaping holes in Severus' story didn't seem to bother the minister or he simply didn't care. He began to commend Severus on his bravery and Albus left them to it. He had heard enough. Enough to know that he needed to get another version of tonight's events.
He climbed the stairs to the seventh floor and slipped inside Filius' office, locking the door securely behind him.
Albus waved his wand and removed the shackles and the gag Severus had put on Sirius Black, allowing him to move again. He eyed Albus warily and stayed where he was. It gave Albus the opportunity to get a proper look at Black for the first time.
He looked nothing like the vibrant, handsome, young man he had once known. His hair was long and filthy, his skin ashen, his eyes resembled empty, dark pits hidden in deep sockets and his dirty clothes clung to a body that was malnourished and mistreated.
"You've been a hard man to find, Sirius," Albus said, breaking the tension in the room.
"Clearly not hard enough," Black croaked in a voice that was as unrecognisable as the rest of him.
"Yes, and you won't be going anywhere for now." Albus raised his wand again, which caused Black to back against the wall defensively. Pretending he hadn't noticed, Albus conjured two simple chairs.
Black squinted at them out of his narrowed eyes. Then he turned his head towards Albus. "Aren't you afraid that I'll attack you?"
Albus twirled his wand between his fingers. "You can certainly try," he said with a mirthless smile. "Alternatively, if you don't wish to waste both of our time, you can sit and talk to me. Or you can wait for the Dementors to do what they've been wanting to do to you all year. I shall leave it up to you to decide if my company is more pleasant than that of a Dementor."
Black's face paled even more when Albus mentioned the Azkaban guards, insofar as that was still possible. After a brief moment of hesitation he sat in one of the chairs. "What do you want me to say, Dumbledore?"
Albus took the second chair. "Usually, I find it's best to start at the beginning. But in this case there's something that takes precedence, I think." He locked eyes with Black, who didn't flinch or try to avoid his piercing gaze. "Did you betray Lily and James Potter and hand them over to Lord Voldemort?"
Black's answer was quick and defiant. "Yes."
But Albus knew that clipped tone, that haunted look, the resentment and self-loathing. He didn't need Legilimency to recognise it. It was the kind of 'yes' he would have given if anyone had asked him if he had killed Ariana.
"Let me rephrase that," he said crisply. "Did Lily and James make you their Secret Keeper just as they had planned and told me they would?"
There was a long, heavy silence that began to stretch and deepen until finally, "No."
Albus leaned back in his chair. "It was Peter Pettigrew, wasn't it?"
"If you already know the answers, then why are you asking me?" Black growled.
"I'm still a long way from knowing everything I need to know, though one could argue that I really should have known this all along," Albus admitted. "It's not that difficult to guess. If it wasn't you, then it only could have been the other close friend of the Potters who died that day. The one you killed."
Black bared his teeth. "All right, I take it back then. You don't have all the answers. You're trying to convict me for the wrong bloody murder again. I killed Lily and James by convincing them to make Peter their Secret Keeper because I thought that no one would ever think of him. But I didn't kill Peter. Not back then and not tonight."
Again, Albus could see no lie or deception in Black's eyes. That much hadn't changed about him. He had never been the type. It's what had made it so unlikely that he had been the spy in their midst. Pettigrew on the other hand…
"That finger they found…" Albus said, slowly piecing everything together.
"Cut it off himself," Black replied briskly.
"How did he disappear? There was no evidence that anyone had Disapparated from that alley."
"Didn't need to. He disappeared into the sewers. He's a rat," Black snarled. "And I mean that figuratively and literally."
Albus' brow furrowed in contemplation. "He never showed any capability for such advanced magic."
"The transformation nearly killed him when he did it for the first time," Black nodded grimly. "It was back when we were still in school. He wouldn't have made it without us. But we helped him, pushed him, dragged him across the finish line."
"You and James?" Albus demanded quickly.
"And Remus. He wanted to be there, too, since we were doing it for him."
"Of course." Albus closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, it felt as though he could finally see things clearly. It was almost excruciatingly embarrassing that he had been so blind to what had been right in front of him this entire time. "You're an Animagus. You all became Animagi."
Black nodded again. "Well, the three of us did. Remus didn't need to, obviously. The whole point was for us to be able to be with him when he transformed. It took us until our fifth year to figure out how to do it. We got lucky because James' and my Animagus forms were actually big enough to control a werewolf. I can turn into a pretty large dog."
"That's how you escaped from Azkaban and how you got in and out of Hogsmeade or onto the Hogwarts grounds without anyone seeing you – or thinking twice about it when they did see you. They thought you were a harmless dog."
"I'm a very convincible stray. I even have the fleas to prove it." Black laughed, but it was a harsh, humourless sound. "To be fair, I also had a little help from that strange cat."
It didn't happen very often, but Albus had nothing particularly clever to respond to that. "A cat?"
"I'm pretty sure it's not another Animagus, but something is not right with that cat. Apparently, his name is Crookshanks and he belongs to Harry's friend Hermione. He tried to get to Peter for me all year and when that didn't work, he brought me a list with passwords to Gryffindor Tower. Whatever he is exactly, he means well."
Albus felt better and worse at the same time. He would have never figured that out in a million years. He focused on something more pressing. "What about James' Animagus form?"
"He's… he was a stag. We called him Prongs. I was Padfoot. Remus was Moony and Peter… we named him Wormtail. We should have known that someone who was turning into a rat couldn't be trusted. But it was actually quite useful. Between the four of us we had everything we needed to explore every inch of the castle, the grounds and the Forbidden Forest."
"Remarkable," Albus said, slowly shaking his head and laughing bitterly.
Black raised his eyebrows at him. "That's not the reaction we expected. Remus was always so worried what you'd think if you ever found out."
"Oh, I'm not happy about this. Not at all," Albus assured him. "But it is remarkable, both the magic and the friendship that inspired it."
"Some friendship," Black muttered darkly. "I thought Remus was the spy. Until tonight Remus thought it was me. And of course I talked James into putting his life in the hands of the very friend who had actually turned traitor."
Albus sighed. "That's the one thing you can't put solely on your shoulders. I knew there was a spy in the Order and I couldn't figure out who it was either. I always had my doubts about it being you. But you had gone into that alley to kill Pettigrew," he said, a sharp edge creeping into his voice.
Black was unfazed. "You're right. I'm a murderer or I would have been if it hadn't been for Peter's quick thinking back then and for Harry's objections tonight. I would have killed him and I wouldn't have lost one minute of sleep over it."
"I don't think I believe that. Not anymore," Albus contradicted. "Unfortunately, we don't have time for such ethical dilemmas. Where is Peter?"
"Do you think I'd be sitting here talking with you if I knew that?" Black snapped.
"But he was here – in Hogwarts?"
"Yeah, Harry's friend Ron kept him as a pet." Black snorted. "You should really look into what kind of 'animals' you let your students bring into this school. Anyway, I saw a picture of him in the Daily Prophet. Fudge gave it to me on a visit to Azkaban. That's how I knew."
Albus gave a curt nod. He remembered that picture of the Weasley family on their well-earned vacation to Egypt. Minerva had showed it to him. Neither one of them had paid attention to the pet rat in it. That Black had seen that picture was either the most extraordinary coincidence or perhaps it had been fate. "Thus your attempts to break into Gryffindor Tower but not to get to Harry."
Black's face came alive in a way that it hadn't all night. "I'm not responsible for people thinking I would hurt my own godson! I talked to Harry tonight. He wants to come and live with me."
"That's a beautiful thought but quite out of the question."
"Lily and James wanted me to take care of Harry as if he were my own son and that's what I intend to do. I owe them that and so much more. I'm still his godfather, Dumbledore. It's not your decision to make." In that moment, with that challenge on his cracked lips, Sirius acted exactly like Albus remembered him and James when they had still been young men. Full of heart and good intentions but blind to reality sometimes and unable to see that Albus wasn't trying to work against them but with them.
"You seem to have forgotten that you're also a convicted criminal. Which is why this is indeed my decision to make. I understand that you want what's best for him, Sirius, so please believe me when I tell you that Harry needs to stay with his aunt and uncle where he'll be safe," Albus reasoned with him.
"Safe?" Black echoed, infusing that one word with all the anger, frustration and guilt he was feeling. "I would rather die than hurt Harry or let anyone hurt him!"
"You may have to," Albus said worriedly. "But first, what exactly happened tonight?"
He told him. He told him everything that had transpired in the Shrieking Shack, until that time when Remus had run off into the forest and the Dementors had descended upon Black, Harry and Hermione.
"You don't know who fought off the Dementors?" Albus asked urgently. "Think carefully, Sirius. Your soul could depend on this."
Confused, Black shrugged his shoulders. "Wasn't it Snape? When I came to, he was there and spat in my face, the bloody…"
"It wasn't Severus," Albus cut him off impatiently. "He says he doesn't know why the Dementors retreated either."
Black looked like he didn't really care, but Albus cared a great deal. Between Buckbeak's mysterious escape and this last-minute rescue by a seemingly invisible hand, the path was becoming quite clear to him now. But it was dangerous. Incredibly dangerous.
Abruptly, Albus rose from his chair and pushed it aside. Black stared at him. "Where are you going?"
"I'm afraid our time and, more specifically, your time is up."
Black jumped to his feet as well. "So what now? Are you going to hand me over to the Dementors? You can't do that, Dumbledore! I'm…"
"You're what? Innocent?" Albus interjected coolly. "What you did this year did not make you look particularly innocent, Sirius. You scared, threatened and inconvenienced a lot of people, including Harry."
"What was I supposed to do?" He curled his hands into fists. "Stroll into your office on the off chance that you wouldn't simply kill me on sight?"
"You could have given me the benefit of the doubt, yes, and trusted that I would help you apprehend Peter safely to hear both him and you out," Albus said sternly.
"Like you helped me not to rot in Azkaban for twelve years?" Black shot back.
That brought Albus up short for a moment. "I do owe you an apology. I should have insisted on getting you a trial. I should have listened to my doubts that you would ever betray Lily and James. For that, I am truly sorry, Sirius."
"Don't apologise to me," he said gruffly. "Help me."
"Easier said than done. You're facing the same problem you had twelve years ago. Without Peter, there is no evidence to support anything you just told me. You know as well as I do that no one will believe the word of a convicted murderer, three underage wizards and a werewolf."
"What about your word?" asked Black.
"My word put you in prison. Sadly, it won't be enough to get you out," Albus replied quietly.
Black sank back onto his chair. "Then kill me or let me do it myself. Anything. Just don't allow those things to suck out my soul."
"Oh, we're not quite there yet." Albus looked at Black, at what he had become, at the shadow of a man he had used to know. But he now saw a way back for him. A way back to being that man again. "There is hope. But I can't promise you anything. It's extremely risky and even more complicated."
"What do you need me to do?" Black asked, undaunted, a true Gryffindor still.
"Nothing. It's not you or I who can do anything. But if I'm not mistaken, it's already happening. Keep an eye on the window."
Black looked understandably baffled.
Albus moved towards the door and gave him a thin smile. "I really hope that we'll see each other again, Sirius. Good luck."
He left and headed straight for the hospital wing where he explained to Harry and Miss Granger, mostly the latter, what needed to be done. The wonderfully clever girl understood almost instantly. Minerva had clearly chosen very well.
Albus backed out of the room, closed the door and hoped against hope that he hadn't been disastrously wrong about this, that he hadn't asked too much of them this time.
He should have his answer momentarily. Such was the confusing nature of time travel. If they had managed to rescue Sirius and to send him on his way with Buckbeak without being seen, they would have to show up here this very minute. If not, if something had gone horribly wrong… Albus hesitated for only a few seconds before he raised his wand, about to lock the door.
In that very moment he heard Harry's and Hermione's footsteps coming up behind him. He breathed a sigh of relief as he turned to see their beaming faces and the fierce light in Harry's eyes. It was done and everyone else in the castle was none the wiser.
This was quite possibly the most extraordinary feat Harry had accomplished so far. Albus' heart swelled with pride. He did his best to contain it and to suppress the smile that kept tugging at the corners of his mouth.
He let Harry and Hermione slip back inside the hospital wing and then he really did lock the door behind them. Everything needed to look as though nothing unusual, certainly nothing illegal, had happened here. Only then did Albus meet Fudge and Severus, who had returned from alerting the Dementors. Two of them were waiting right outside the oak front doors, guarded by Fudge's Patronus, as they would have been more than willing to come inside the castle. Since Albus still would not allow that, Fudge wanted to bring Sirius back down to receive that deadly kiss right outside on the front lawn. Albus followed the minister and Severus dutifully up the stairs to the seventh floor and waited for Fudge to open the door.
"Gulping Gargoyles! Where is he?" The Minister for Magic screamed. Albus had thought that Cornelius would be the one to lose his head once he saw that the office was empty. But after his initial outburst, he appeared to be completely speechless.
It was Severus who exploded. He acted like a madman. He ran all the way back to the hospital wing. He (quite correctly) blamed Harry. He bellowed, howled and screamed loud enough to wake half the school. But without proof, no one – not even Fudge who had been so taken with him earlier – believed a word of what he was saying.
Until eventually, Severus was forced to retreat with murder in his eyes – a clear warning to everyone not to get in his way.
Fudge followed him out more slowly and he finally agreed to take his Dementors with him. After all, the one piece of evidence they did have was that the Dementors had attacked two students tonight. Ideally, that would have made Cornelius see that they were too dangerous to be kept around at all, even in Azkaban. But for now Albus would settle for them leaving his school.
He was smiling openly when Minerva showed up in her tartan dressing gown. Severus' screams must have alerted her. "What in Merlin's name is going on?" she asked. Half of her hair was up in a hairnet, the other half had come loose.
"That," Albus said, his smile widening, "is a rather time-sensitive story."
A/N: I finally had the chance to let Sirius say something, yay. Hope you enjoyed it. One more chapter left in book 3. :)