The Tri-Wizard Tournament Vs. A Marauder Part 1
Sirius laughed at the wind as Buckbeak took him away from Hogwarts. Powerful wings beat against the wind and they were getting further and further with each beat. Sirius looked behind him, it was already pretty far away, but he thought he could still see his Pup standing there, watching him flying away.
He didn't have any clear destination in his mind. After the night he had, he needed to get his head back on straight. He steered the hippogriff in the general direction of London and started to plan his next steps. He would need to lay low for a while. It would probably be better if he showed his mug once or twice away from Hogwarts. If nothing else, the dementors would be recalled from Hogwarts if he was reported to be somewhere else than the castle.
Harry's friend, the redhead one, if Sirius was right, then he was a Weasley. And if he was Molly's spawn, then he would demand recompense for his lost pet. While Arthur was a dear man and the Prewitt twins, Fabian and Gideon were alright blokes, Molly was a plain harpy. When they were all First Years, Molly Prewitt was in her final, along with Arthur. Sirius had seen how the Prewitt daughter harped on and on about any and all perceived slight against her person. She even tried to ensnare Prongs in marriage because he pulled a prank on her, the bitch. How a genial man like Arthur fell for her, Sirius would never guess. Love potion, maybe? In any way, Harry needed to be free from the perceived debt of the loss of a pet. From his year spent at Hogwarts, he knew the Weasleys have a daughter, a year younger than the Pup and history could repeat itself. Sirius would need to replace the pet as soon as he could. Well, on the way to London, there were a few wizarding settlements, he could pay the pet shops there a visit.
After flying for nearly a day, with a small stop on the way, Sirius finally stood in front of the house from where he had escaped in his youth – No. 12, Grimmauld Place. The entire locality was an eyesore. Dilapidated houses and unkempt streets clearly indicated the financial hardships the residents had fallen into. Although, it was possible that the Blacks had placed a curse on the surrounding area to chase away all the muggles. Bunch of pricks, the Blacks were.
No. 12 was not easy to find if no one knew it was already there. Magic ensured that none even question the weirdness of a missing house. And nobody could survive approaching the house if they were not of Black blood. Sirius asked Buckbeak to stay hidden at the deserted park just around the corner till he clears the house of anything life-threatening. He put his hand on the serpent-head doorknocker and pushed a little magic into it. There was a prickling sensation in his fingers, the magic drew blood to test his identity before the door opened with a loud creaking noise. If anyone else had tried that, they would have been blasted apart.
Lighting his pilfered wand, Sirius cautiously ventured into the dusty, darkened house. The wallpapers were faded and peeling. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling like gossamer curtains. Every step generated a cloud of dust. Faint sounds of buzzing, chittering and many more drifted from all over the house. Only Merlin knew what kind of and how many creatures had built nests in the house. Did the house-elf die – Sirius wondered.
At the first landing, there hung a portrait on the wall of the late and not lamenting last lady of the Blacks – Walburga Black, Sirius' mother. She was snoring in her portrait.
"Hello, Mother," Sirius called out.
"Hunh?" Walburga jolted awake, she peered from her portrait in the semi-darkness. Her lips peeled back in disgust as her eyes fell upon Sirius. "Well, well, well. What do we have here? The mongrel came crawling back after all."
"As delightful as always, Mother. I would ask how you are faring, but seeing your portrait, I don't need to."
"How dare you sully the house of Blacks, you bastard?"
"Bastard, am I?" Sirius barked out a laugh, "What does that say about your character then, Mother dearest?"
"Kreature! Kreature!" Walburga shouted from her portrait, "You are failing in your duties, you damnable elf! There is a blood traitor present in the house of Black!"
With a popping sound, the said elf materialized into existence. Sirius wouldn't be surprised if the elf peeled himself off of the rubbish from somewhere, seeing the state he was in.
"Mistress called for Kreature?" The elf asked in a raspy, whizzy voice.
"Where were you, you useless elf? Why didn't you stop this blood traitor from coming in?"
Kreature kept his head so low that his long nose almost touched the dusty floor, "Forgive poor Kreature, Mistress, but Kreature can't stop the heir from entering the house. Kreature is a bad elf." He started to pull on his long, bat-like ears.
"He is not the heir, Regulus is the heir." The portrait screeched again.
"No, no! Master Regulus is no more! Poor Master Regulus, how Kreature wishes it is the bad master to suffer instead of Master Regulus!" The old elf wailed.
The portrait ceased its shouting, the occupant stared at the still wailing elf with a cold, hard gaze. "You lie, Elf!" Walburga hissed.
"He isn't lying, Mother." Sirius remained quiet during the elf's tantrums. While he despised the little bugger for snitching on him during his childhood, he knew that the elf was devoted to Regulus Black, Sirius' little brother - The only good thing being a Black had ever given him.
"No, Regulus can't be dead! He is a good son. He is the proud son of Black." Walburga screeched once more.
"Shocking, isn't it? Knowing that your perfect little son is dead while the disgrace still drawing breath? Do you feel proud, Mother? Do you feel vindicated that your urges have finally been fulfilled?" Sirius growled just like his alternate form.
"What do you mean, you traitor?"
"I begged him, I begged him to come with me when I escaped this hellhole. The fool didn't. 'No Siri, I think I can make them see reason. I will make them call you back.'" Sirius was shouting in front of the surprised facsimile of his mother, who was too stunned by the turn of events that she remained quiet while her disgrace of a son ranted. "I listened to him, I gave him my words that I will be safe. He promised that he will be the best Black of this generation and bring the family back together. I listened to you, Reggie! I am alive still! Where are you now, you moron? Why did you have to go and get yourself killed?" Sirius yelled the last part, then he crumbled down beside the still sobbing elf.
"I heard them, you know? Those Death Eater bastards. They yelled how their Dark Lord put down the traitorous son of Black." He said through gritted teeth, his cheeks were wet with tears, "I heard Bellatrix gloat. You remember her, don't you Mother? Another precious child of the Black. She sold herself to that filth. She was marked like some cattle. And she had the nerve to laugh and tell me that her precious Dark Lord personally put Reggie to death."
Walburga was still quiet.
It was Kreature who replied to Sirius' rants, "Master Regulus asked poor Kreature for help. He said that the Dark Lord needed an elf. He took Kreature with him and made Kreature drink potion. Kreature was dying, but Kreature was a good elf. Kreature heard when Master Regulus called. Master brought Kreature to health and asked where the Dark Lord took Kreature. Kreature went to that nasty cave with Master. Master gave Kreature the locket and ordered him to go and destroy it. Master couldn't get out. There were deads. Deads killed Master Regulus."
Even through the grief and raze filled haze, Sirius had heard the elf's mutterings. He sat up straight and looked down at the elf.
"What dead? What are you talking about, Kreature?"
"Dead wizards and witches. Deads the Dark Lord made alive. They came from water and dragged Master Regulus with them." The elf started wailing again and this time, headbanging on the floor added to it.
"Kreature, Stop!" Direct order from the heir of the house stopped the ever dutiful elf. "Do you mean to say Regulus was killed by inferi?"
The Elf nodded, his head jerked and Sirius thought he would once more start to bang his head, but his previous order stood and the elf remained still.
"Speak, Kreature. What did the Dark Lord do there? What did Regulus tell you?"
"Dark Lord made Kreature drink potion. Kreature had nightmares. Master Regulus took the locket Dark Lord hid there. Master told Kreature to destroy the locket."
Sirius frowned, "Did you destroy the locket?"
"No! Kreature can't! Kreature tried everything! Kreature is a bad elf!" He tried to pull on the ears so hard that Sirius thought he would rip them out of his head.
"Stop, Kreature. Where is this locket? Can you get it?"
"Kreature hid the locket."
Sirius nodded, "Go and get it then."
With a small 'pop' the elf vanished, only to appear a few seconds later. In his hand, a locket was dangling. A wave of pure evil almost slammed into Sirius. He reached for it, but the revulsion he felt from the dark magic was enough for him to recoil. How the elf managed to keep a hold on it was a wonder.
"Reggie asked you to destroy it?"
"Master did. But Kreature can't destroy it. Dark Lord's magic is too strong for poor Kreature."
Sirius leaned over to take a good look at the locket. The ornate gold thing was a gaudy piece of jewellery. There was a snake styled as an S on the locket and had a heavy golden chain.
"The Dark Lord may be strong, but the Blacks have been taking down such filths for generations. Does the library still stand?"
"Mistress ordered Kreature to lock the library."
Sirius looked back at the portrait. Walburga Black had been quiet for too long. He was surprised to see that flakes of paints started to peel off of the painting. Walburga's image was stilled with her face showing her shocked expression. Whatever magic kept the portrait alive and its inhabitant's memories intact to a degree had failed and the portrait was now getting destroyed. The shock from the news of the Black Heir's death, her youngest son's death was too much for the painting it seemed.
"I don't think the mistress is in any position to object. I want you to reopen the library and clean it as much as you can. We will hunt down the ways we can destroy this locket and honour Reggie."
Kreature nodded furiously, "Kreature will."
"Move the painting to the attic while you are at it. It has lost its charm."
"Kreature will."
"Oh, and is there any alcohol in this house?"
Kreature frowned at the thought, "There be Master Orion's private stock."
"Good. Get a few bottles from there. Tonight, we will mourn for Regulus."
"Yes… Master Sirius."
[IOS]
It had been a month and some more since Sirius' escape from Hogwarts. He didn't even think about leaving the country as Dumbledore subtly suggested in one of his rare missives. He tried to express the urgency of him, Sirius, leaving Harry where he was, even going so far as to prod into the emotional wounds of Harry remaining with the last of his blood relatives since none else was alive to shelter him from the long hands of 'imperiused' Death Eaters. Rubbing the fact to his face that Sirius was the one to be blamed for his unfortunate jaunt at Azkaban because he went wand happy to hang Pettigrew. Nowhere in that letter was mentioned that it was Dumbledore's own yes man, one Rubeus Hagrid, who denied Sirius' claims to his godson. If Sirius had taken Harry in then, he would never have gone after the rat. But Dumbledore was one individual who could sell water to a fish.
In the month he spent at his ancestral home, Sirius had buried the hatchet with the cantankerous old elf. Both came to a mutual understanding over their shared love and loss of Regulus Black. The unexpected deactivation of the portrait of Walburga Black had also helped in this reconciliation. Since Kreature didn't receive orders from Sirius' dearly departed and doubly demented mother, the elf had become more helpful towards the wayward scion of the Black. Together, they routinely scoured through the Black Library for a hint on how to destroy the locket. Sirius had to muddle through dark and disturbing tomes but he shouldered on, anything that can deliver a blow to that Dark Lard could be declared a helping hand for the Pup.
To maintain the ruse of his absconding status, Sirius had Kreature procure exotic birds of faraway lands from the local zoos. They had found a handy charm that once cast on a bird, could turn it into the same as a post owl. So, even if Harry told his little friends that he was regularly corresponding with Sirius, none could guess his location from observing the birds. In his last letter, Harry said that he had received some sort of vision where the Dark Lard and Pettigrew were planning something and that something consisting a plan to get their grubby little hands on Harry. Sirius had renewed his efforts in the library after reading that letter. Whatever it was the rat and his master were planning, couldn't be good for the health of the Pup. Sirius was sure that Fumblemore wouldn't lift his pinky to help the boy, so it fell upon him to protect the tiny Marauder, a duty he had been neglectful in performing for the last decade through no fault of his own.
Sirius' concentration broke with a sound of soft pop heralding elf apparation.
"Master Sirius." Kreature croaked.
"Yes?"
"Today's paper, Master."
"Ah, thank you, Kreature. Could you fix me something to eat?"
"At once, Master."
Sirius hummed as he perused that morning's Daily Prophet. He was expecting to see the result of the Quidditch World Cup final gracing the front page. Instead of that, he was shocked by the moving pictures of the grisly floating mark high up in the air that had been a source of numerous nightmares during the last war. He hurriedly skimmed through the accompanying articles. Then he threw the paper away and sat ruminating on the printed words.
A bunch of Death Eaters came out of their 'imperiused' rocks and caused a raucous in the aftermath of the match. The Ministry was trying to paint it in a different colour by claiming that the disturbance was caused by some drunkard way down in their tankards. Typical Ministry propaganda if there was any. Anyhow, the cowardly bunch bolted when someone cast the Dark Mark in the air. If that was not alarming news, the next bit had Sirius reach for the bottle on this early morning. Harry had been in the thick of these things. Sirius knew he went to the World Cup with the Weasleys. Arthur seemed to have managed to get his hands on some tickets for the Top Box and treated his sprogs along with Harry and Hermione to the treat. Sirius understood the unmentioned underlines – Arthur bandied about the name of the Boy-Who-Lived and got special treatments for his family. In a way, Harry had been invited as a guest at his own party. Afterwards, he was caught underneath the Dark Mark, with his friends beside him. And soon after, Crouch's elf was caught with Harry's missing (presumably stolen) wand which was tested and found to be the one used to cast the Mark. Damn that boy, he hadn't had an ounce of self-preservation in his body. But the thing about Crouch tweaked Sirius' funny bone, and he wasn't laughing.
"Kreature!" He called out.
"Yes, Master Sirius." The elf popped in.
"Do you know the elf used to work at the Crouch estate?"
"Kreature does."
"Will you keep an ear out for that elf?"
"Kreature will."
"Also, how do you feel about poking around the Crouch estate? Now that the elf is gone, and with Ol' Crouch always busy at the Ministry, the house is bound to be empty during the day."
"Kreature knows curses, not wards, Master."
Sirius rubbed his face in frustration, "Okay, maybe we should look up some wards for you to study. We may need to visit some places under strong wards if we can't find a safe way to dispose of the locket. I will need another set of eyes while dismantling the wards. For now, go about what you were doing and keep tabs on the Crouch elf, will you?"
"Kreature will."
"Oh, and Kreature, I think you should find another bird for us to free. Harry is probably writing a letter to me as we speak."
"Kreature will." The elf popped away.
Sirius would have felt better if he didn't have to depend on the elf as his backup. He could send for Moony, but somehow, the dog in him had grown weary of the wolf. He didn't even try to find why Sirius did the things he was blamed for, because Dumbledore asked him not to. He didn't tell the Pup anything about his parents for the entire year he was at Hogwarts, because Dumbledore asked him not to. He didn't try to keep in contact with him since his escape, again, probably Dumbledore asked him not to. Sirius wondered what else Remus John Lupin could do if Dumbledore asked him. No, the only soul Sirius would trust besides himself would be the Pup. And till they were forced to remain apart from each other, Sirius was better off by himself. He would try to dismantle Dumbledore's schemes from within the darkness.
[IOS]
Bloody buggering hell! The Tri-Wizard Tournament?! Harry's recent letter told him that Dumbledore announced the revival of that deathtrap would happen at Hogwarts that year, and Sirius was ready to bet his last Galleon that Harry would be forced into it somehow. Sirius would need to move his timetable. He needed to be relocated near Hogwarts. But where could he go to hide that would be easy enough to access the Pup and still would remain undiscovered by others? His thoughts circled around to the conversations he had with that ginger half-kneazle. He said something about a cave not too far away at Hogsmead. That could do within a pinch. He could nip down at the Shack in case of emergency, and Harry would be able to send for him that way also. He needed to go and pack. Lots of things were there to be done and so little time in hand.
[IOS]
Sirius was cursing up a storm. Kreature had just finished giving him the report. He had the elf snooping around the castle for anything suspicious. That resulted in him finally finding the Ex-Crouch elf – Winky. But sadly, the elf had taken the forced severance hard and drowned herself in Butterbeer. While that drink was a non-alcoholic beverage for average wizards and witches, to a house-elf, those are the potent stuff. Sirius asked Kreature to try to slowly detoxify the elf.
However, the reason for Sirius' ranting was Harry Potter. His name had come out of the Goblet of Fire as the Fourth Champion in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. If this wasn't the omen that Sirius was apprehensive about, then nothing else could ever be.
After some more minutes of furious pacing and rambling. Sirius turned to the old elf who stood at a corner of the spacious and with a few magical touch-ups, a very comfortable to live, cave. He had followed his Master's instructions to the letter. He had kept a close watch on the Black heir. Not his Master's son, but godson and adopted heir. And to Kreature's immense pleasure, the boy is of the Black blood. He was the grandson of Mistress Dorea. Kreature was in the clouds in happiness to care for a powerful Black scion after so many years, discreetly, of course, only to throw off the other nosy individuals of the case, but a highly enjoyable duty to perform for any self-respecting elf. Above all, Mistress Dorea's grandson was a far better wizard to inherit the family prestige than the whiny brat of Mistress Cissa. Oh, Kreature had heard tales from Dobby, the former Malfoy elf. Everyone thought Dobby to be a disgrace for an elf, but the sneaky elf had bound himself to Master Harry without his knowledge. Kreature was more than happy with that outcome. Anything to help the house of Black.
"Kreature, can you deliver a message to Harry? Tonight?"
"Kreature can." Of course, he was capable, he was taking care of the Black heir, after all. Even if he couldn't do it personally, he could instruct Dobby to carry out the duty to the letter.
"Good, here's the message. Place it on his pillow, and make sure he reads it tonight. I will be waiting for him at the Shack."
"Kreature will."
"Go about it then, and keep my food warm, please. I may be quite late tonight."
"Kreature will."
[IOS]
"Pup!"
"Sirius! What are you doing here? If the Ministry comes to know about you -"
"Hang the Ministry! How are you, Harry?"
For all he had accomplished in his short little life, Harry Potter was still a fourteen years old boy. After the night he just had, all the hateful whispers and scornful glares, the amount of betrayal he felt from his closest friends by them not believing in him, Harry needed a reliable ear to rant to, a shoulder to lean on, and if it was his godfather, who was imprisoned for most of his life just like Harry himself was for crimes other people committed, then Harry had a sympathetic soul who could understand him. So he let loose, he unloaded everything happened to him since he began to walk. The Dursleys, the wizarding world, Snape, McGonagall, Dumbledore, Malfoy and the Slytherins, the Goblet of Fire spitting his name out after three champions were already chosen, even Ron and Hermione. He hadn't kept a thing hidden from the Azkaban escapee.
Sirius hadn't said anything. He had his face passive and just sat there listening to Harry ramble on about everything that happened to him. Sirius thought only the Marauders get into all kinds of trouble. But troll? Teacher possessed by Voldemort? Basilisk? Acromantulas? Soul-sucking diary? He knew about the dementors and was partly responsible for it, but still, Harry had to face those monsters at thirteen? And now Dumbledore forced the Tri-Wizard Tournament down his throat.
"Dumbledore agreed that you have to participate? Just like that?"
"Yeah, he did. He and Crouch. You know Crouch, right?"
Sirius grimaced, "Oh, I know Crouch alright. He was the other one beside Dumbledore who left me rot in Azkaban."
Harry frowned, "When you say Dumbledore…"
Sirius nodded, "I meant Albus Dumbledore. He was the Chief Wizard of the Wizengamot. He could have given me a trial, but he didn't. Later, in Azkaban, I found out that he gave his personal approval to Severus Snape, a known Death Eater, but I didn't even rate a trial from him… and I was one of his own. I was a member of the Order."
"Hang on, there are a lot of things I don't understand." Harry scratched his hair, "Snape was a Death Eater? Then how come he is teaching at Hogwarts? And what Order?"
"The Order was a group of people who opposed Voldemort and his Death Nibblers. Dumbledore headed it, its full name was the Order of the Phoenix. And yes, Snape is a Death Eater. I said 'is' because nobody ever stops being a Death Eater. Not according to the others who were in the prison with me. They screamed every day. Cursed the names of Malfoy and the likes. Promising to all who would hear that they would take their revenge on those who had forsaken their beloved lord. Snape rated quite high in their list."
"So Snape could be the one to put my name in? He was lurking there in the antechamber. Moody threatened him, and Karkaroff too."
Sirius smiled a grim smile, "Yes, Igor Karkaroff. Another one who escaped the justice. Anyway, I don't think Snivellous put your name in the Goblet. He wouldn't do anything risky unless there is a clear goal for him. He is too much a Slytherin to act on a whim and wanting to kill you because he hated your father, is too far even for him. In my opinion, it was somebody else and Dumbledore is planning to profit from that."
"What would Dumbledore hope to profit from all these?"
"Who knows," Sirius tiredly rubbed his face, "even his schemes have little unseen schemes within them. I bet he doesn't put on a robe without a hidden meaning behind that particular colour for that day."
"What? Orange for Mondays because the Canon never won in the last fifty years?" Harry snickered.
"Something like that." Sirius chuckled too. "What did they do after telling you about the Tournament?"
"Nothing. They just send us off to the bed. Karkaroff and Maxime took their students back to their places. Cedric got back to the 'Puff den and the other teachers plus Crouch and Bagman went to the Headmaster's office."
Sirius thought for a bit. "Do you have the map on you?"
"Always," Harry smirked as he brought out a worn piece of parchment.
Sirius activated the Marauders' Map and spread it over the table he conjured. He checked the names at the Headmaster's office and a deep frown slowly formed on his face.
"Harry, who did you say went up with Dumbledore?"
"Well, there was Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Moody and the Ministry duo – Bagman and Crouch."
Sirius hummed, "If Moody went with Dumbledore, then why is he showing up in his office on the Third Floor? It doesn't look like the meeting was over. The others are still there. Here, see -" he offered the map to his godson, "- there's Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Bagman…" Sirius trailed off.
Harry frowned and leaned closer to the map, "Is it malfunctioning?"
Sirius was up and pacing around the room and muttering rapid curses under his breath.
"The map is never wrong."
Harry took another glance at the map, "Then why is it showing two Crouches there? And Why is Moody all the way over here?"
Sirius took back his seat, "Pup, the Crouch family was a very short one. Barty Crouch, his wife Melinda, and their only son Barty Crouch Jr. Crouch Sr. was the Head of DMLE when Voldemort was at the height of his power. Crouch tried to fight fire with fire. He gave the Aurors a clean chit to fatally curse anyone wearing a black robe and white mask…even the unforgivable curses. I told you he was one of the ones who threw me at the prison without trial. He glanced at my family name, and that was it. I was painted with the same brush as the rest of my family."
Harry was an eager listener, nobody ever told him anything about the war his parents were a part of.
"Then the Hallowe'en of '81 happened. Voldemort attacked you and got himself vaporized. Your parents' doing of course. Not that I am undermining your abilities or anything. But face it, you were just a fifteen months old stinky-butt…" He ruffled Harry's hair, making the boy scowl at him and push him off, "Your father was very clever with his wand, but your mother was the vicious one. There was a reason why Voldemort kept coming after your parents. They were a force of destruction together. If the Death Eaters caught sight of flowing, blood-red hair, they wouldn't think twice to turn tail and flee. There were a number of times Fabian and Gideon – they were Molly's twin brothers, your friend Ron's uncles – they wore wigs of the same colour as Lily's hair just to mess with those pricks." He chuckled at those memories.
"Anyway, as I was saying, Voldemort was blown away and suddenly, the entire Death Eater movements came to a halt. Mind it, I was chucked behind the bars very quickly afterwards and heard all of these second-handed, but the news was that Barty was like the wrath of Merlin himself. He was putting everyone even with a smidgen of black in their record in prison. Then another attack happened, this time it was my dear cousin Bellatrix, a lovely girl, with the same personality as a dementor. Well, she, her husband Rudolphus Lestrange and her brother-in-law Rabastan, and another Death Eater attacked the Longbottoms. Do you know their son, Neville? He is in your class. You almost shared a birthday. He was born on the 30th while you on the 31st of July."
Sirius frowned, "Come to think of it, Alice, Neville's mother is your godmother. Lily and she were thicker than thieves when they were at school. Lily was Neville's godmother. He didn't tell you anything about it?"
Harry shook his head. All of these were news to him. How come Neville didn't tell him anything? Was he that bad a friend? Thinking back, Harry had his head down in shame, he hadn't been a good friend to the shy, somewhat clumsy boy himself. Most of the time he spent goofing off with Ron and overlooked their timid dormmate. Harry made a resolution to himself, he was going to make it up to Neville, if he accepted him or his friendship after all these Tournament fiascos.
Sirius frowned, "You may want to have a chat with the lad. Anyway, the Lestranges, they tortured the Longbottoms so much that they are now permanent residents of St. Mungos." Sirius nodded sombrely at Harry's horrified look, "I know. Poor Neville had to grow up without his parents too. But his fate is a bit harder than you, his parents are still alive but they don't recognize him."
Harry sat straighter in his seat. His resolve hardened even more. He would look out for Neville. He would help the boy. If things happened differently, they would have grown up together. He could understand Neville's pain. Harry had spent many sleepless nights wishing to see his parents just once. But to see them regularly and not be recognized by them? Watching them fade away little by little every visit? Harry couldn't express his feelings in words.
Sirius continued his tale, "The Lestranges were put on trial and were convicted. They were so proud of what they had done, and said their Master would reward them for their suffering. Bloody maniacs. Anyway, then came the trial of Igor Karkaroff. That slimy bastard, in a bid to save his own skin, struck a deal with the Ministry. He named names, amongst those names, were two that nobody even thought to look at – Severus Snape and Barty Crouch Jr.
Snivellus was saved by Dumbledore, the old fart claimed that he was the Light side's spy working deep undercover. Spy my rosy little arse. That snivelling bastard must have some dirt on the old man and made him say those things. Crouch Jr., however, was put to trial and proved to be guilty of attacking the Longbottoms alongside the Lestranges. He was put in Azkaban by his father, and Crouch's rising star fell. Sometimes later, Crouch came to the prison with his wife, visited with the son, and after a few more days, it was said that the wife died. And Barty Crouch Jr. also snuffed it inside of the prison."
Harry pointed at the map, "Then those two names mean…"
"Exactly, father and son. I am not betting one of them being the wife because she was a sickly and frail woman. There is no way for her to still kick around. What I am guessing is an exchange of persons happened at that meeting. Mother came in and son went out."
"Polyjuice?"
"My thoughts exactly. It all fits now. The mother begged for her son's release. Crouch must have given in and made that happen. The mother hid as the son and died of natural causes. While on the outside, Crouch faked her funeral and burial while keeping the son hidden. But how did he do it and why they are here now being the real questions."
"Well," Harry grumped, "the why is easy. He is here to kill me, of course. How much you wanna bet that he put my name in the Goblet?"
"He is a viable suspect, isn't he?"
"What do we do, Sirius?" Harry started to fret, "Do we contact the DMLE and tell them everything?"
Sirius thoughtfully nodded, "We can do that. However, there are some problems with that. First, we, I mean you, will need to hand over the map as evidence at the beginning and then it could be handed over to Snivellus and such for the 'Greater Good' of the school. Are you willing to hand over Prongs' legacy to the authority as a second-generation Marauder?"
Harry shook his head in negative. He had so little of his parents with him, that he didn't want to lose any of them. Plus, the map is a handy little tool. With how much trouble he seemed to find himself to be in, he needed every tool to help him out of tight spots.
Sirius continued, "Second, Crouch Jr. could see the DMLE and cut his losses and run, and thus, we don't get to know who sent him here and for exactly what. Because I don't think Crouch Jr. has the brain in him to think up all these by himself.
And lastly, whatever we do, you are still bound to the Tournament. Because His Hairiness has accepted your entrance in it. You will have to compete as far as I know of magically bound contracts."
"Then?"
"Give me a day to think on it. I promise you, by this time tomorrow, I will have a plan ready to show all of the world about how a Marauder takes care of this shitshow of a tournament."
Harry sighed and relieved sigh.
"Oh, and since I am already here and will be spending time around you, how about I indoctrinate you into the Marauders' way of life, with everything that entails?" Sirius gave Harry a very pointed look.
It took the boy some time to understand what his godfather was telling him. When he finally caught on, both of them shared a very disturbing and feral smile.
[IOS]
"I am telling you, Padfoot, Fake-Moody can see through the cloak."
"And I am telling you, Prongslet, that is not possible."
"What's a Prongslet?"
"Since you don't have your Marauder identity yet, you have to ride on your dad's coattails for a bit. Then you will earn your own name."
"Okay, I can live with that. But tell me how is it impossible for Moody to look through the cloak. His bloody eye can see through the back of his head. It is scary."
"Well, James and I were apprentices under him when we were training to become Aurors. I actually have forgotten how many times we hid under the cloak together to pull the wool over the old geezer's eyes. And mind you, I am talking about the real Alastor Moody, not the Polyjuiced faker."
"And believe me when I tell you that he can see through it. I was hiding between my classes under the cloak because R- er… somebody was being a berk and I didn't want troubles. I was walking down this corridor and Moody came from the opposite direction. His eye whizzed around and stopped at where I was standing and he gave me a small nod. And when he was passing me by, he muttered 'constant vigilance' under his breath before giving me another nod."
"That was not how it was supposed to happen. Did you check the cloak for any tracking charm or beacon spells? Those could send signals to people who have especially charmed glasses, or in this case, one magical eye."
"People can do that? I bet that is how Dumbledore always knows where to find me."
"Of course, people can do that, Harry. That's why the heir ring was charmed to check this type of thing on the family heirloom. James used to remove the ones cast on it by McGonagall once a week. Because somehow, she came to know that James Potter had an invisibility cloak and tried to catch him in the act by tying the charm over the Gryffindor entrance so whenever he passed through it under the cloak, the charm would latch onto it. We managed to escape her most thanks to the map once it was finished, otherwise, we used to turn the table on her by shifting the charm on Mrs Norris. Didn't you ever check the cloak against the heir ring?"
"What heir ring?"
"Are you serious?"
"No, you are Sirius, I am Harry."
"While your father would have crowed like a rooster for your very punny comment, your mother would have whacked us both up the head. You for making such an old and worn joke, while me for corrupting you."
"Well, you are quite a corrupting influence…"
"You are on a roll, aren't you? Keep up like that and I will botch the potion just to make you wait for another month."
"I solemnly swear that I will be good."
"Don't ever try to teach the master, Prongslet. Anyways, the heir ring. You should have gotten it on your eleventh birthday. Didn't the person who took you there say anything about it?"
"Well, I went there with Hagrid, and he was kinda…"
"Hagrid?! Are you trying to pull my leg here? The Potter heir went for his inheritance with the Gamekeeper of Hogwarts?"
"Oy! What's that supposed to mean? Hagrid is a great bloke."
"I never said he isn't. Heck, it was him who first pushed us towards our special skills when we wanted to help Moony. He told us that there was no effect of were-bites on animals. He was the one who sometimes patched us up because we were too reckless in our full moon runs. Although he thought we were being berks as always. But he did help us instead of ratting on us. But considering all things, Hagrid would be the first one to tell you that he wasn't the man to tell a scion from a noble family about his duties. Because he doesn't belong to one. It should've been McGonagall or Flitwick for you. Sprout would do it too. For Merlin's sake, even Snivellus would've been better than Hagrid. Why was he there with you anyway?"
"The Dursleys… kept me from getting my Hogwarts letters… took me on a wild ride that ended up in a hut on a big rock, in the middle of freaking nowhere. Hagrid broke down the door and got me away from there. He was the first to tell me I am a wizard. He was the one to tell me about… about mum and dad… how they died… why they died…"
"Oh Pup! The injustice you faced since that day… it was all my fault. If only I forced Hagrid to leave you with me… if only had I not chased after the rat… if only I wasn't so reckless -"
"No, Sirius! I don't blame you. Really. I would've done the same thing in your place. I bloody went down a dark tunnel because my friend's sister was taken. I fought a freaking basilisk, Padfoot, without a wand too. I could be blamed for being reckless too, you know? Well, Hermione does say that sometimes… I mean, she used to say before…"
"Anyway, there is another thing to add to our 'to do' list. Get you to Gringotts on the next Hogsmead weekend and have you wear your heir rings."
"Rings? Plural?"
"Well, yes, there is your Potter family ring… and the Black family ring."
"The Bl-? But Sirius, how can I wear the Black heir ring?"
"You can because you are also my heir, Pup. Once you get those rings on your finger, you will be Heir Potter-Black."
"But… but… what about your own kids? Wouldn't they become Heir Black?"
"Harry, Azkaban is used as a prison for a reason. The criminals sent there, if they are not insane like Bellatrix, or driven by vengeance like me, are always reformed because they don't want to get back there. Well, the ones with lower sentences do, most of the time. I was locked up in one of the high-security cells. The dementors… they do more than suck out your happiness and will to live. They also take away your ability to create a life."
"Huh?"
"I am sterile, Harry."
"Er… what?"
"Are you se- No, don't answer that! Merlin, Prongs, this isn't funny. You were supposed to be here to give him 'the talk'. We both know that I would do a horrible job at that. Okay, Pup, that's another item for the list. We will go to Flourish and Blotts to get a book on little witches and wizards… Stop snickering, I am being se- I am not joking, Harry!"
"I know. Relax, Padfoot, you don't need to give me 'the talk'. I went to muggle school. They took care of it."
"Oh, thank Merlin! You think you are really funny, do you, brat?"
"Hey, it stopped you from thinking about dementors, so I call it a win."
"Cheeky bugger. Back to our plan now -"
"Do we have to right now? It sounds like it won't be possible till I get the heir rings anyway…"
"A plan is sound until the first step is taken, after that, anything can happen to blast the plan in whole. We need to think up alternatives for everything from the get-go."
"You are a boring teacher."
"I would like to see you try. Stop whining and concentrate. Now, as I was saying…"
[IOS]
Harry Potter was sitting on a bench near the DADA classroom with a pile of books and heaps of parchments spread about him. He was diligently flipping through the pages of the book in his hands, he only stopped once in a while to jot down something on the piece of parchment in front of him, which was already half-filled in tiny, undecipherable and untidy scrawling.
Clunk! Thunk! Clunk! Thunk!
The unmistakable sound of a wooden leg and a wooden staff made against the stone floor corridor as the scarred and disfigured individual who was that year's Defence Professor, Ex-Auror Alastor Moody. His artificial eye did a round in his head while his still normal eye bore onto the oblivious student working near his office.
"Potter! What are you doing here?" He barked.
Harry seemed to be jolted awake. He scrambled for a bit and the book in his hand thumped down the floor.
"Oh, hello, Professor Moody. You kinda surprised me there."
"You are sitting in front of my office, lad." Moody pointed at the door not even ten steps away from where Harry sat.
"Um… yeah, I know that…"
Moody sniffed impatiently, "Well? Do you have something to tell me?"
"Er… no sir, I just wanted to be somewhere quiet to work on these…"
"And you are not in the library because…?"
Harry ran his hand through his hair, "Victor Krum was there, you see, and a bunch of girls went in following him. Right distracting, those lot." He looked up to the scarred face and lowered his gaze in an instant, "… and there were also those badge-wearing gits…" He mumbled low to himself but the man heard that.
It was just a few days in the past, that Draco Malfoy had come up with a brilliant new plan (for him, that was) to torment Harry. He had managed to either bribe or bully someone from upper years to charm a few badges that read 'Support Cedric Diggory – The Real Hogwarts Champion!'. However, there was a hidden trick with the badges, one needed to just touch it for the badge to change its aforesaid message to 'Potter Stink!' It was the height of puerile behaviour but Draco found it and in relation to himself, to be quite witty. Harry wanted to pat him on the head for his ability to spell the words the proper way for his infantile brain. But then the moron had to go and call Hermione a Mudblood.
Hermione was another individual who appeared very puzzling to Harry. She didn't behave like Ron and blamed him for being a cheater to get his name in the Goblet. No, she gave him the stink eye for a few days and told him that she needed time to mull over things in her head. Then, after a few days of indecisiveness, she magnanimously told him that she would give him the benefit of doubt. Moreover, she had been nagging Harry to mend the bridge with Ron. When he asked why he had to do that, she replied since Ron was feeling jealous, he had to be the bigger man and forgive him. When Harry told Sirius about this incident, the first thing Sirius asked was if Harry was sure that it was Hermione he was speaking with and not Dumbledore under Polyjuice.
When Harry pulled his wand on Malfoy because of that M-word, a small fight ensued and Hermione got caught in the crossfire. Her front teeth became larger than elephant tusks and she had to go to Madame Pomfrey to have them reduced. Later on, she berated Harry right in the Great Hall about his hot-headedness always getting her in trouble and he shouldn't let petty name-callings get to him. Harry tried to make her understand that what was petty name-callings for her, for him it was the same as calling his mother by a derogatory name, which, he had pointed out, in that case actually was. He didn't understand why whatever he said was so insensitive that could make Hermione demand an apology from him before she stormed out of the Hall. Furthermore, he was strapped with detention from McGonagall for disrespecting a fellow student who was also a woman, which was above the loss of fifty house points. Harry fumed to himself as he sat down to shove food down his uncooperative mouth amidst glares from the others of the House of Braves. Whereas Malfoy, the cocky little cockroach, who really did insult someone, sat there looking smug about the whole incident. Harry was ready to bid adieu to this backwards society and go back to the normal world where things at least made some sense, but he managed to keep calm by the promise of revenge that Sirius made to him. He would get back at them… every one of them.
Coming back to reality, Harry watched as Moody looked him over with both of his eyes – organic and magical before giving him a nod.
"Very well. As you were, Potter."
"Thank you, sir."
Harry sat back on the bench as Moody limped towards his office. Just as he was about to enter, he tripped over seemingly thin air and as he was falling while flailing his hands about, a red beam of light came out of nowhere and struck him on the back. Harry hastily shoved everything back in his backpack and bolted towards the office.
"Careful of that tripwire," a disembodied voice warned him, "it really is hard to spot by naked eyes if you don't know it is there."
Harry carefully stepped over the tripwire and walked into the room. He set his pack down and dragged the unconscious form of Moody, or Barty Crouch Jr., fully inside of the room. A faint 'twang' sound came from the corridor indicating the release of tightly wound metal wire. Soon, the doors of the room closed and Sirius Black materialized inside the room.
"That went well," Harry said breathlessly.
"Told you it will work. The heir ring did get rid of the tracking and beacon charms."
"Hey, I had no idea it would work as you said. I couldn't just go to Dumbledore and test out the theory, could I?"
"You could've trusted your magnificent godfather."
"Sure, sure." Harry rolled his eyes, "Now what?"
Sirius had a manic gleam in his eyes, "Now we do some interrogation. You may need to step out if you don't want to observe it."
Harry scowled, "No way. After the time I had to bear because of this piece of shit," he kicked the unconscious man laid by his feet, "I am ready to even cut off his… stuff to make him talk."
Sirius winced hearing that. "There is no need to do something that drastic. Merlin, you really are your mother's son, aren't you? Never mind that, watch and learn how an expert does the interrogation."
"Where will we find such an expert now?"
Sirius aimed a swat at the boy's head but he ducked and made him miss. Shaking his head in fondness and also a little hidden glee that the repressed child was slowly coming out of his shell, Sirius called out for his elf.
"Kreature!"
"Master called?"
"Do you have the potion?"
"Kreature does." He handed over a tiny vial, full of clear liquid.
"Perfect. Now, Kreature, I need you to go through each and everything in this room very carefully. There is a hidden room somewhere either in the room or one of the furniture. You will find a man being captive there. Do not release him or wake him. Check his health if he is in need of some medical attention. Can you do that?"
"Kreature will." But before he was to go and do the task he was given, he turned towards Harry, "Master Harry needs something? Can Kreature bring some food for Master?"
"Er… No Kreature, I am good for now, thanks."
Kreature bowed and started to whirl about the room. Harry was still unused to the dotting elves. Between Dobby and his 'Great Master Harry Potter Sir' as well as Kreature and his 'Master Harry, the perfect Heir of Black'; Harry was quite uncomfortable. He never had such devoted attention focused on him. He shuddered in thought about what Winky, the third elf of house Potter-Black, would do once she become fully functional.
Sirius snickered at his godson's predicament. Then he sobered up and approached the unconscious form on the floor. He levitated the man up to a chair and bound him with thick chains. Normally, the binding curse Incarcerous only produced ropes to bind the one it was cast against, but the Blacks had managed to tweak it enough to produce solid metal chains instead of ropes. He forcefully opened his mouth and dropped four drops of the potion on his tongue, three would have been sufficient but Sirius didn't want to leave any room for doubt.
"Renervate!"
The man woke up and looked around groggily. He couldn't do anything more because the potion had started to work by then. His face went lax and his eyes glazed over.
"That, Harry, was Veritaserum, one of the most powerful truth potions in existence. The drinker practically has no choice but to tell the truth under its influence. Three drops of it will make everyone go under, but I used four because I wanted to be sure that Voldemort or anybody else didn't put any hidden surprises in his mind."
Harry nodded in understanding. Sirius continued with the interrogation.
What the man confessed under the truth serum, was accredited to Sirius' theories. He was indeed Barty Crouch Jr. His father had sprung him from the prison on his mother's dying request. The mother and the son exchanged places under Polyjuice and Crouch Sr. brought his disgrace of a son back home and kept him captive under the Imperius, with only the family elf to take care of him. Crouch Jr. was building up resistance against his father's curse, and during the World Cup, he finally managed to break it. It was him who snagged Harry's wand and cast the Dark Mark at the World Cup.
Then he went on spilling the beans about Voldemort's plans. Apparently, when Pettigrew escaped from Hogwarts at the end of Harry's Third Year, he went straight to Albania in search of the Dark Lard. There, he stumbled upon a rather nosy Ministry witch, Bertha Jorkins. She became aware of Crouch Jr.'s prison break because of her nosiness and had Crouch Sr. cast a memory charm on her to make her forget everything. Probably the old man put too much power behind the spell, as the witch became a bit scatter-brained afterwards. There was no way she would've overlooked Pettigrew's existence otherwise and went out for a drink with him. Pettigrew pumped her for any information he could and had come to know about the Tri-Wizard Tournament. When the rat revived Voldemort, the Dark Lard legilimensed into the mind of the hapless witch and found out about Crouch Jr's current status.
Coming back to England, Pettigrew had no problem in freeing Crouch Jr. and together, they put Crouch Sr. under Imperius. They come to know from him about Moody's appointment of being this year's DADA professor and they managed to kidnap the Ex-Auror. Crouch Jr. was planted as a fake Moody inside of Hogwarts and therefore, as easy access to Harry. It was Crouch Jr. who put his name at the Goblet with the plan to help him along with the Tasks and at the end, overlapping the Tournament Cup with a portkey spell of their own and thus kidnapping the Boy-Who-Lived from right under Dumbledore's nose to a place of their choosing. Where the boy's blood would be used to resurrect the Dark Lard.
Sirius stunned the man once more and turned to his godson.
"How are you doing, Pup?"
He knew it was a stupid question because Harry had gone pale, almost catatonic by what he had just heard. He steered the non-responsive boy to a seat and quietly asked Kreature to stop his search for a few moments and fetch him a Calming Draught.
A dose of potion later, Harry had got some of his colours back on his cheeks.
"Voldemort wants to use me in a ritual to come back?"
"Apparently so." Sirius nodded.
"What are we going to do, Sirius?"
"We will show them exactly what they'll get when they are trying to mess with the Marauders. Don't you worry, Pup."
"How? You are only one man… and… and you are a fugitive… what can you do all by yourself?"
Sirius smirked down at the teen, "You underestimate me, Harry. I was one of the brilliant students to pass out of Hogwarts. Not nearly your mother's calibre, but James and I were right behind her. Plus, I was an Auror, one of Moody's protégés. A single one of me is more than enough to disrupt whatever plans a disembodied Voldemort can hatch. He has a poor excuse of a wizard with him to help him, and I have the Prongslet -" he ruffled Harry's hair, "with me. He is the son of Prongs and Prancer, the perfect mix of power, intelligence and temper. Moreover, I am a Black, as are you. We never let an enemy get the best of us, it is against our nature."
Harry thought for a few moments, "Then how come you ended up in Azkaban? How did mum and dad…?"
Sirius sighed, "Hubris, Pup. We had gotten too big for our breeches as the old saying goes. Lily wanted all of us to get away from this country and its sheep in wizard clothing. But we were the bloody Gryffindor-ish fools back then. We thought ourselves to be invulnerable… and we paid the price."
"Mum didn't want to fight the Death Eaters?"
"Oh, she wanted to fight alright. She wanted to put them all six feet under the ground. She was vicious enough to do that even. All those Pureblood bigots were scared shitless of her. After Snape called her a Mudblood in our Fifth Year and she broke off their friendship, all the bets were off. Lily Mary Evans had become the Bloody Mary, an anathema to the very idea of blood bigotry." Sirius shivered. "We, the Marauders, were bullies, I can admit that now. We took things a little too far in our pranks sometimes. But what Lily did to Yaxley, Avery and Connors… they were happy that they could walk straight after that and had the ability to talk. Time and time again, Voldemort tried to get James and Lily to join him. He failed every time of course. People think Bellatrix to be a very scary witch. They never saw Lily Potter in action."
"Then why did she want you all to leave?"
"Because of Dumbledore. Dumbledore had this idea of trying to reform everyone. He gave them second chance, even third, forth, fifth… chances after chances. He made all of us swear an oath of obedience to him, to fight by following his rules only. Lily didn't want to, but James and I made her. My grandfather, Arcturus Black and James' father, your grandfather, Charlus Potter fought in the Grindelwald war. We grew up hearing those war stories, not from those two, but from the others. We learned quite young about Dumbledore's duel with Grindelwald. He was our hero. Of course, we wanted to follow in his footsteps.
What we didn't know before taking that oath was that the Potter-Black team was the actual reason for Grindelwald's defeat. Those two decimated everything in their ways and left nothing but dust in their wake. They forced the Knights of Walpurgis, the predecessors of Death Eaters, back into their hidey-hole. They didn't dare to come out lest they'd lose their lives. Grindelwald was cornered and made to come out of his hiding because nobody wanted to face either Potter or Black. He came out only to face his evident defeat by Dumbledore.
Lily didn't believe in Dumbledore's ways. She had read about the Grindelwald war and heard those stories without the rose-tinted glasses we grew up with. As brilliant as she was, she put the pieces together in her mind. And when James introduced her to Uncle Charlus and Aunt Dorea, she asked the man upfront. We were trembling in fear, but to our astonishment, Uncle Charlus only laughed and invited her to the library where they had a very lively discussion about the war. From that day, Lily almost became like a daughter to them. James used to grumble that Lily stole his parents from him."
Harry was drinking every word out of Sirius' mouth. People only talked about James and Lily Potter, the perfect couple, the brilliant Head Boy and Girl. But from Sirius' tales, he was getting to know them on a more personal level. He loved to hear about them as they were humans, not the perfect dolls that people tended to portray them to be.
"So, there we were. The Marauders fighting against the forces of darkness. Lily was indoctrinated by the worldview of Charlus Potter and Arcturus Black. Obviously, she clashed with Dumbledore on a regular basis. She found loopholes in the wordings of our oath that she exploited them and brought hell upon the Death Eaters. When Dumbledore tried to put on more pressure on us, she wanted us to leave. But we couldn't due to our oaths. Then you came into our lives, we became even more complacent and then the rat finally showed his true colours." Sirius spat the last sentence.
"It sounds like mum was very scary," Harry said with awe.
"Yes, she was."
"Won't that oath prevent you from doing whatever you want to do now?"
"That's the beauty of it, Pup. An oath works both ways. When a lord, or leader in our case, demands an oath of obedience from his followers, he, in turn, promises to shield them from any reprisals from the enemies, even from his own. So a lord or a leader can't demand unjustified sacrifices from unhappy followers. Both Voldemort and Dumbledore were not from noble families. And before you ask, yes we knew Voldemort was a pretender. Because there is no family with the name Voldemort, some of the decisions he took made no sense to those of us who had grown up within noble families. It helped Regulus to break away from Voldemort, how he did so, I will tell you later. And the same little knowledge of lords and vassalage helped me to break away from Dumbledore because he left me to rot in Azkaban. I am free of those shackles now, Harry, and I will now ruin Dumbledore in turn."
Harry's green eyes were blazing too. "I'll help you." He declared readily.
"Of course, you will, you are your parents' son."
"Um…"
"What?"
"Was… was mum one of you? You said something about Prongs and… Prancer?"
"Obviously she was, she was the perfect partner to your dad."
"What was she?"
"I said 'the perfect partner', Pup. What do you think it could be for someone called Prongs?"
"A doe?"
Sirius only winked in reply.