A/N Thanks everyone for the reviews and the warm welcome back. It was so nice to see how many people were still following me and reading from when I first started publishing and also nice to hear from many new readers.
Harry has been very naughty today, so this chapter has a discipline scene. You have been warned. Also, it's a little darker than my normal fare, but I promise you warm and fuzzies the next time.
Enjoy
*********HP*****
Almost everyone who knew Hermione Granger before she began Hogwarts would agree that two words described her best. Nice and Ordinary.
She had nice and ordinary parents, who had nice and ordinary jobs and lived in a nice and ordinary house. Her school was nice and ordinary, her few friends were nice and ordinary and, without question if asked, everyone assumed that one day she would grow up and marry a nice and ordinary man and continue to live a nice and ordinary life.
Hermione herself accepted this fate at her tender young age. She looked in the mirror and saw a nice and ordinary looking girl. She was neither beautiful nor homely. She was neither graceful nor clumsy. Her success in her progressive independent school was on par with the other academically minded pupils that attended. She studied and approved of her nice and ordinary parents and their reasonably nice and ordinary state of success and happiness. She looked at her mother who although ordinary, was nice looking enough and, seeing her future, Hermione herself was content with her lot in life.
During the summer that she was eleven, however, a small letter arrived at her nice and ordinary home in the most extraordinary way. And to her immense surprise, the letter told her that she was not actually just nice and ordinary. It told her that she too was extraordinary. Not just extraordinary but magical. At that moment, Hermione Jean Granger caught a quick glimpse of a life less ordinary, and she vowed to work as hard as she could to never be nice and ordinary again.
But no matter how she hard she worked and excelled in her new life, beginning with the introduction to an unimaginable world of which she was a part, or discovery of the innate special talent that had lain dormant inside of her finally bursting forth or the solid bond of loyal and firm friends, the feeling of being just nice and ordinary never truly left the back of her mind, and it was these long ingrained feelings hovering just beneath her surface that made her trips to the library these days be filled with lingering disbelief mixed with a dash of forbidden excitement.
"Hurry up, Hermione. I'm starved!" Ron grumbled, adding an air of theatrics as he plopped heavily down into a chair where his girlfriend was studying. He grabbed his stomach as if in great pain and huffed a little too loudly earning a sharp screeching rebuke from Madame Pince.
"In a minute, Ronald," she answered crossly, sitting amid a sea of books on the last goblin rebellion. Her quill was scratching furiously across her parchment as she rewrote her essay for History of Magic. Still stung by Remus' criticism, she was determined to prove her conclusion correct even though it was already a quarter of an hour into dinner.
Sitting next to her, Ron groaned pitifully, thoughts of roast beef and mash swimming in a pool of thick onion gravy swirling around in his head. He placed his hand against his forehead theatrically. "I feel faint," he moaned.
"Honestly, Ronald!" Hermione scolded, although the corners of her mouth were starting to twitch slightly in amusement. In response, Ron blindly reached out a hand towards her face. "Hermione? Is that you? My eyes! Everything is so dark!"
The petite brunette burst out laughing at her boyfriend's theatrics. "Oh go on then," she said, pushing him up out of the chair. "I'll meet you there shortly." Ron bent down and nuzzled her neck affectionately. "You..are..the..best...girlfriend," he whispered in her ear, kissing her cheek after each word.
Giggling, in a very un-Hermione like way, her face turning several shades of red, she gently pushed him away. Ron shouldered his bag, a grin matching hers spread across his face. "Don't be too long, 'Mione," he called over his shoulder as he made his way out of the library, skirting quickly around Madame Pince who scolded him sharply on his way out.
The very hungry boy flat out sprinted through the corridors, the jasmine scent of Hermione's perfume still lingering in his senses as he sped towards the Great Hall. He thought of her beautiful smile even as he good naturedly knocked little Dennis Creevey's books out of his arms. After all, it was the job of every older student to put the little first years in their places. Dennis seemed delighted by the attention, calling out "Thank you, Mr Weasley!" at Ron's back as he hurried on.
Once inside the Great Hall, Ron flopped down at the Gryffindor table across from his older twin brothers and immediately started grabbing platters. The older boys stared in amusement as Ron began to eat with one hand while simultaneously refilling his plate with another. Even for him, this was an inordinate feat of gluttony. "Steady on, little brother," Fred admonished with a grin. "Plenty of food in the kitchens." His mouth full of chicken, Ron mumbled something that sounded decidedly like an insult and continued to plow on.
After a good fifteen minutes of sating himself, Ron finally started to slow down, noticing that Hermione still had not joined him. He frowned, worried about her. The smart girl's studies always took precedent and she often missed meals because she could simply not tear herself away until the tables had already been cleared. Grabbing another plate, Ron began to fill it with the things he knew she enjoyed and casting a warming charm on it, so even if she was later still, she wouldn't go hungry. It was a good job too as less than two minutes later, the platters of meats and sides disappeared to be replaced with mounds of cakes, pies and other puddings. Ron grabbed an entire treacle tart, quietly pleased that Harry was not around to snag it first, and tucked in to it. Eyes closed in blissful enjoyment, he was almost halfway through when a curtain of silvery blond hair appeared in his vision.
"Do you mind eef I 'ave ze plate of fruits?"
The words rang like the sweetest music in Ron's ears. Not just music. A symphony! Trembling a bit in nervous anticipation, his treacle tart entirely forgotten, Ron lifted his gaze and stared directly into Fleur's pale beautiful eyes. A buzzing filled his ears, giving him the slight feeling of intoxication, as if he had consumed far too much butterbeer. All that mattered at that moment was Fleur.
"Zees ozzer foods are too 'eavy," she pouted, batting her long eyelashes at him, gesturing at the platter of fresh fruit that none of the other students, besides Hermione, generally paid any attention to. Spellbound, Ron jumped to his feet, knocking over his goblet of pumpkin juice in the process. He grabbed up the fruit platter in one arm, plucking an especially ripe strawberry from the pile and offering it up to Fleur's perfect bow shape mouth in complete supplication.
So caught up he was in the French beauty's presence that he never even noticed Hermione's arrival in the hall. Or her almost immediate departure at top speed.
********HP*******
Dragons?"
Harry felt his stomach flip. The plate of beef stew that had looked so delicious and inviting only moments before now caused a wave of bile to rise up in his throat. Choking back the urge to vomit, he pushed it as far away from himself as his arms would allow him to causing Sirius to frown. The older man knew that he should have waited for dinner to be over before sharing his fears with his child.
"We believe so," Sirius replied, reaching up to gently brush back Harry's fringe. "But it's not to worry. Dragons we can deal with." Although he meant his words to be comforting, they had the complete opposite effect, setting Harry's teeth on edge as his mind raced with images of skyscraper sized behemoths raining down torrents of fire in their wakes.
"Not to worry?" he asked incredulously. "Maybe that's easy for you to say," he all but shouted in an accusing manner. "But me? I'm definitely worried."
Across the table, Remus sat in contemplation, watching as his teaspoon slowly stirred itself in his cup of Earl Gray. "There are charms and spells we can teach you, Harry, to deal with the dragon. When the task comes, we will have you well prepared, I assure you."
Harry swallowed hard and looked up into Sirius' face. There was no lie in the man's gray eyes as he nodded in agreement. Relaxing slightly from the trust he had that Sirius would never allow him to be hurt, he didn't protest when his godfather gently but firmly pushed his dinner plate back in front of him. He picked up his fork and began to eat again, the food tasting like ash in his mouth, but he knew that Sirius would not excuse him from the table until he had made a good job of his plate. Remus' thoughts were clearly somewhere else, Harry noticed, and it more than worried him a little given the confidence of the vow he had just made.
"If the dragons are not a worry, then what is?" he asked, staring down his former professor.
Aware of Harry's stare, Remus lifted his gaze to the boy and frowned just a bit. He shot a quick glance at Sirius, asking a question with his eyes. After a quick second of contemplation, Sirius nodded slightly.
"We believe," he started slowly, as if searching for just the right words, "that the bigger danger lies in the others associated with the tournament. What have you heard about Igor Karkaroff?"
Harry shrugged, a little confused. "The Headmaster of Durmstrang? Nothing really. Just that Durmstrang is known for teaching the Dark Arts under his care. That, and Malfoy claims that he and his father are friends."
"I'm sure they are," Sirius said disgustedly. At Harry's questioning look he continued, his voice matching the bitter scowl on his face. "Igor Karkaroff was a Death Eater, Harry, so I'm sure he knows Lucius Malfoy very well. He was arrested and put into Azkaban while I was there. Like most of the other Death Eaters who were put on trial, he used the Imperious Curse defense. Then, to make himself truly valuable to the Ministry, he named names."
"Some very important names," Remus added, drinking slowly from his teacup as Sirius nodded in agreement. "As such, he was released."
"Reformed," Sirius sneered with a look of disgust. "As if a Death Eater could truly ever be reformed." "Now, Sirius," Remus admonished, "You know that Severus.." Annoyed, Sirius put his hand up, effectively ending his friend's attempt at reminder. As the room was already tense, Remus decided not to pursue that particular matter at the moment. He knew that Sirius, deep down inside, acknowledged that Severus had repented for his crimes. Only a true belief in that knowledge would have convinced him to allow his godson within ten miles of the man.
"In any case," Remus continued, "with signs that Voldemort is returning, Karkaroff is going to find himself in a very vulnerable position. Its going to be in his best interests to get back into the good graces of the Death Eaters if he wants to stay alive."
"Which means, having him in a position of authority and belonging during this tournament is detrimental to your wellbeing, Harry." Sirius frowned, worry etched into his face. "So, I want you to be very careful around him, little one. Do not, under any circumstances, allow yourself to be alone with him. Understand?"
Harry swallowed hard, the dragons now forgotten. "Yes, sir," he assured his guardian.
Sirius hesitated a moment and then gave Harry an affectionate pat on the shoulder before standing up and pouring himself a tumbler of firewhiskey. He took a large swig, bracing himself.
**********HP***********
In a quiet corner of the library, surrounded by the friendly and comforting stacks of books which had always been her refuge, Hermione allowed her tears to fall. The logical side of her knew that with Fleur being part Veela, Ron could probably not help himself in his infatuation with the stunning blond. It wasn't as if he was the only boy in school to find himself in that situation. But the nice and ordinary part of the girl couldn't shake the waves of insecurity that were washing over her because of what she saw as her first boyfriend's indifferent betrayal of their fledging relationship. So caught up was she in her own misery, that she didn't even notice the arrival of another person in her private hidden cubby.
"Vot is wrong?" came a deep voice from above her.
Startled, Hermione looked up and found herself face to face with Viktor Krum. She immediately blushed and quickly brushed the remaining tears from her eyes as she struggled to regain a semblance of dignity. "Nothing," she answered, sniffling slightly and smoothing down the creases of her skirt as she sat up straighter. "I'm fine, thank you." That was all she needed at the moment. Being found a blubbering mess by the person that her boyfriend worshipped.
Without invitation, Viktor pulled out a chair and awkwardly sat down next to her, his large bushy eyebrows furrowed. He gave her a serious look and Hermione noticed immediately that the large boy had surprisingly kind eyes.
"You are no fine," he stated plainly, his accent very heavy and making his words slow. "You no cry, please. Makes pretty eyes all red." He gave Hermione a warm smile and she found herself smiling back without intending to. She nodded slightly, making his grin even larger. They didn't speak again for a moment or so and Hermione was just about to thank him when the buzzing sound of a gaggle of giggle girls reached them. Grimacing, Krum frowned and stood. "I haff to go now," he told her, sounding very annoyed. "Please, I come back and see you again?"
Hermione blinked, the situation a little unreal to her. After all, Viktor was famous and handsome. Why would he be interested in her? But she nodded her consent anyway and Viktor beamed, taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips. The he gave her a clipped bow and turned himself smartly, just as the gaggle of giggling girls spotted him and swarmed, squealing. Still in a bit of daze, she watched as he hurriedly made his way out of the library, completely ignoring the swooning band of daft dimbos trailing him.
****************HP***************
The next two weeks passed by far too quickly in Harry's opinion. As each day fell away, he became increasingly more aware of the impending first task. True to their words, Sirius and Remus had both been training him in the Room of Requirement, preparing him to face the fire breathing monsters. It had been Sirius' idea to use the Conjunctivitis curse, taking advantage of the dragons eyes being their weakest spots, and he had practiced casting it until his wand arm practically fell off and he was sure that he could just about blind the entire castle.
However, one evening as he and Sirius lay panting on the floor of the training room, sweaty and spent, Harry finally gave voice to a niggling little feeling he had been having for days.
"What if it doesn't work?" he asked his godfather in a small voice. Sirius sat up quickly, frowning. "What if what doesn't work, Harry?" he asked, concerned that the boy was having doubts.
Harry jumped to his feet and grabbed a towel from the helpful hooks on the wall, wiping off his face and neck before dropping down to sit on one of cushioned benches to the side of the training arena.
"What if the curse doesn't work? What if they have a shield around the dragon that prevents us from cursing if?" He paused, his shoulders trembling a little. "What if I just miss?"
Sirius frowned and immediately joined Harry on the bench, wrapping his arm around the boy's shoulders. "You won't miss, Harry," he comforted him. "And they won't stop you from using curses. The whole point is to use your magic to get through the task." Harry nodded, unconvinced. Looking up into his godfather's eyes, he pleaded slightly. "But, what if?"
Sirius drew the small body into a hug, willing his love to comfort his child. In all honesty, he knew what he told Harry was true, but the boy needed more. "Then we have a Plan B," he assured him. "Moody used to tell us at the academy that a wise wizard plays to his strengths. So," he said, tipping Harry's face up to meet his own, "what are your strengths?"
Harry sputtered, now completely frustrated. "Strengths? I don't have any strengths," he declared with insecure passion. "Unless you count extraordinarily bad luck. Or always being in the wrong place at the wrong time."
Sirius chuckled sadly and held him closer. "Everybody has something they are good at, little one. Something positive," he clarified. He rubbed Harry's back attempting to calm the child while Harry thought. After a moment Harry exhaled and sat up. "Flying, I suppose," he answered with very little conviction. "I'm a fair flyer."
"Of course you are," Sirius agreed, smiling. "More than fair. If you need to, you can fly."
"I can't fly without a broom, Sirius," Harry replied, frustrated and speaking to his godfather as if to a three year old. "I'm not allowed my broom." Sirius ignored the cheek and continued. "But you are allowed your wand, aren't you?"
****************HP**************
Without explaining her reasons to her clearly befuddled boyfriend, Hermione had been decidedly cold towards Ron lately. Harry noticed it and asked why, but she just shrugged him off and headed towards to the library as usual at top speed. She hadn't even joined them up in the Astronomy Tower for the last two Friday night dinners. Ron wasn't any more helpful, just muttering "Girls." So Harry wasn't all that surprised when she didn't join them on their way to Hagrid's the day that Charlie Weasley was visiting.
"Barking mad, the lot of them," Ron grumped as they stumbled down the path to the hut. "One minute everything is great, and the next she barely looks at me." Harry sympathized, but having absolutely no experience with girls, he felt poorly equipped to give his best mate guidance. Besides which, considering the girl in question was Hermione, he felt an additional layer of awkwardness. "I mean, is that what she is reading about in those books of hers?" Ron continued, kicking stones out of his way. "How to make men crazy?"
It didn't take them long to reach the hut, but Ginny and the twins had already arrived and they were all sitting around Hagrid's table with Hagrid and Charlie, mismatched cups of tea and an untouched plate of Hagrid's rock cakes sitting between them. Ron threw himself at his big brother, hugging him enthusiastically. When Charlie released him, he clapped Harry on the back affectionately as the two had gotten on quite well at the Quidditch World Cup.
For the next hour or so, they chatted amiably. Charlie had been Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and a prefect, quite popular and fun loving. He regaled them all with tales of his time at the school, teasing them affectionately, but every so often Harry caught him shooting him worried glances. Harry knew that the affable redhead would have been ordered to keep the true reason for his presence a secret, and Harry wished that he could reassure the older man that he knew, but he also realized that he possessed knowledge that the champions shouldn't have and therefore held his tongue.
Shortly before dinner, Sirius arrived at the hut as planned earlier. He had come to say hello and to collect his godson. Charlie had been given permission to take his siblings to Hogsmeade for the evening. Honestly, Harry was a little jealous. He had never been there at night and their plans sounded wicked.
"Ready, Harry?" he asked, his arm around his godson. Harry postured for a minute, wanting to ask if he could join gone Weasleys, but Charlie beat him to it.
"We're having dinner at The Three Broomsticks," he said with a warm smile on his face. "And then some mates of mine are playing a gig at the Ram's Horn pub. Want to join us, Sirius?"
Harry was looking up at him, desire clearly etched on his young face, and Sirius genuinely hated to refuse the boy, but it was the night of the full moon and he had plans with Remus already. Besides which he didn't want either Harry or himself to intrude on the family gathering.
"Thank you for the very kind invitation, Charlie. But I'm afraid we already have plans." He turned towards the door, but was stopped by Harry's entreaty. "Please, Sirius. I'd really like to go."
Calmly but firmly, Sirius shook his head and motioned for Harry to come over to him. "I said no, Harry. Come along now. We don't want them to be late."
"Thanks anyways, guys," Harry muttered sadly as he dragged his feet towards the door. They bid farewell to Hagrid, thanking him for his hospitality and made their way back to the Astronomy Tower. Harry pouted the whole walk back reminding his godfather that he was still an immature hormonal teenager at times.
"I will take you some other time," he promised the boy as they climbed the spiral staircase. Harry huffed as he began to lag behind. "It won't be the same," he whinged. Sirius just smirked and waited until Harry reached the step he was on. He put his arm around the boy and guided him up the rest of the way.
"You'll get over it."
Harry allowed himself to be tugged into the residence but didn't see the humor.
*******HP*********
After dinner Harry left to go back to the dorm. He told Sirius that he hadn't spent any time with Hermione lately, and what with Ron gone for the evening, she might be willing to come out of the library for a while. Sirius, knowing that the two were squabbling over Merlin knew what thought that was an excellent idea. Since coming up with what they were calling Plan B, Harry had relaxed somewhat about the task and some fun time with his friend would probably do the boy a world of good.
As for himself, he planned on spending a little time this evening making sure that everything was as safe as it could be for his child.
Harry had been right about Hermione. Once she was assured that Ron was away for the evening with his family, she was happy to spend a few hours with Harry practicing his summoning charm. She also had a few clever ideas about using transfiguration, but they were a bit too complicated for Harry to master is such short order, although he was appreciative of the time she had spent researching on his behalf.
She also wouldn't discuss her issue with Ron and Harry didn't push her. Privately he hoped the two would work it out quickly because he missed spending time with both of them.
Curfew had come and gone and still no Ron. Again Harry felt a pang of jealousy and he entertained some thoughts of resentment against his godfather who had given him no real reason why he had not been allowed to join them. He bet that they were having a great time while he was stuck in the tower practicing for the stupid tournament he hadn't even wanted to participate in! In foul temper, he was just about to bid Hermione good night when Ron rushed through the portrait hole.
"Harry! Go get your cloak. You have got to see this!" he yelled as he ran in.
"What? Why?" Harry looked behind him as if the source of the excitement was following, but Ron just pushed him in the direction of the stairs to their room.
"Just get it and come on," the redhead urged, clearly impatient.
Without giving it a second thought, Harry rushed upstairs and threw open his trunk extracting his father's cloak. Neville, Seamus and Dean all threw him a look, but he just ignored them and raced back to the common room.
Hermione was facing down Ron, hands on her hips, a perfect image of his mother. "Just where are you two going?" she demanded.
Normally Ron would have answered her, but he was still too stung over her behavior towards him lately. It made him feel like his dad who was always in trouble with his mum over something, and now with Hermione perfectly channeling Molly Weasley, he felt it even more and he was tired of it.
"Nowhere you need to worry about," he said very matter of factly.
Hermione's eyes bulged and she turned to Harry who was just as surprised. Trying a different tactic, she said to Harry, "Sirius wouldn't like this." Unfortunately, with Harry still miffed at his godfather, that was exactly the wrong thing to say. With thoughts of mutiny still on his mind, Harry joined Ron at the portrait hole.
"I don't care what Sirius thinks," he snapped. Hermione's face fell at his sharp words and he immediately felt bad. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he said softly just before covering himself and Ron with the cloak and a moment later they were gone.
Huddling awkwardly together under the cloak, Harry let Ron lead the way out of the tower and through the front doors. Once the were outside, the darkness allowed them to pick up a little speed and Harry found himself running behind Ron toward the forest.
"Where are we going, Ron?" he asked, more than a little concerned. He hadn't wanted to question their friend in front of Hermione, but now, out of the castle after dark and speeding across the grounds, the idea of actual information appealed to him. Especially as he admitted to himself that Hermione was right. Sirius definitely wouldn't like this.
"Just wait," Ron answered breathless and running faster. "We're almost there."
They skirted around the side of the lake, getting closer to the woods when Ron suddenly came to an abrupt stop making Harry very nearly crash into his back. Tugging the cloak around the both of them even tighter, Ron brought his index finger up to his mouth. Harry obeyed the warning and they crept silently closer to the woods when all of a sudden he heard an earsplitting roar.
Slapping his hands over his ears, Harry tried to figure out what that had been, resisting slightly when Ron insisted on tugging him closer to the source. Recognizing the urgency on the other boy's face, he complied, skirting around another clump of trees into a clearing where he saw a group of men around what seemed to be an enormous bonfire. But when he heard another roar followed by a wall of flames headed off to the side, Harry realized that it wasn't a bonfire, and suddenly he felt his stomach turn to ice.
A dragon. A huge, scaly, horned and snarling dragon stomping around a paddock, the men around it waving their wands attempting to keep it contained. Another roar coming from the left of it made Harry realize that there were more and it only took a moment to count four. One for each champion.
Another pull on his arm and Harry followed Ron behind a large tree just in time to hide before he saw the unmistakeable forms of Hagrid and Madame Maxime.
"Beautiful creatures, aren't they?" Harry heard Hagrid sigh with desire. Just then a large ball of flame came even closer towards them and Harry reflexively pulled back.
"Not too close, Hagrid! That Horntail can be nasty," he heard Charlie call over.
Harry's breathing hitched and he felt dangerously close to sicking up. All of his fears about the task were rushing back at him and he wanted more than anything to be back at the castle in his bed. Pulling on the back of Ron's shirt he motioned towards the woods leading back to the grounds. Ron nodded, seeing Harry's green face and the two carefully made their way past the half giants, hearing as they left Charlie warn Hagrid that the dragon eggs were carefully accounted for.
As the boys picked their way between the trees, Harry's mind was still back at the dragon enclosure and he didn't even realize that anyone else was around them until he ran smack into a large object.
"Ouch! Who's there?" a voice demanded. Harry had fallen backwards landing on top of Ron who miraculously hadn't cried out when he realized who they had bumped into. Adjusting his glasses, Harry realized with a shock that it was Igor Karkaroff and he held his breath in fear.
Both boys lay absolutely silent and motionless while the bearded headmaster looked around, confusion etched on his face. Nervous of being seen himself in the forbidden area, Karkaroff was just about to leave when he heard the menacing snarl of a large dog.
********HP**********
One of the things that Sirius had missed most about his time with his friends at school were the nights when they roamed the grounds in their animal forms. Careless and free they had romped, enjoying a simple pleasure while giving support to Remus.
Now, many years later, they been given the opportunity again. It was exceedingly timely that the full moon happened to coincide with Charlie's arrival. With the excuse of Remus' transformation, both men could be wandering the grounds with no one questioning their reasons for being there. And if they wandered too close to the dragon enclosure, well, mistakes happen.
As the night grew ever darker, the dog and the tamed wolf ran pathways through the forest, the scent of the unfamiliar beasts heavy in their noses. They were careful to keep their distance from the other wizards. It wouldn't do to draw unnecessary attention to themselves. However, their close proximity excited the beasts and they heard the handlers dismay as to how poorly the dragons were reacting to their new environment. Confused but unaware of the true source of agitation, the handlers decided to stun them. Running a perimeter around the enclosure, Sirius saw Hagrid and Madame Maxime, confirming his suspicions that Harry wouldn't be the only champion with advance knowledge.
The darkness of the night blending in with his black coat, Sirius was careful to keep a distance as he continued his circle, certain that he would find another school head. He wasn't disappointed either, catching wind of Karkaroff's foul scent not too far away. But it was the heavy presence of another far more familiar scent that made the dog's heartbeat race.
It was impossible, of course. Harry wasn't anywhere near here. But the scent was unmistakeable and getting heavier as he propelled himself further forward. Bolting past another clump of trees, Sirius saw Karkaroff quickly moving closer toward the path for the enclosure, when all of a sudden the man seemed to impact with an unseen object. Knowing now exactly what that object was, having a large amount of experience with it himself, Sirius bared his fangs and launched.
Igor's eyes widened when he saw the enormous black dog barreling towards him. He couldn't afford being seen or casting spells so he chose to turn and run, grateful when the beast didn't appear to be following. It didn't matter. He had what he had come for and he fled back to his ship.
Sirius growled menacingly at the loathsome man's retreating form until he was sure he was gone. Then, with anger brewing inside of him ready to boil over, he scanned the immediate area until he saw the patch of grass with the unnatural indentation. Transforming quickly, he reached out and grabbed at the invisible cloak, revealing two very pale and scared boys underneath.
Reaching down he grabbed both by the fronts of their shirts and hoisted them to their feet, rage swirling around him like a storm cloud. Spinning them around he swatted them both, hard, each of them yelping from the impact.
"What in Merlin's name were you thinking?" he hissed, swatting them again.
White spots of anger swirling in front of his eyes he threw the cloak back over the two gulping boys. "Back to the castle," he growled. "Move it."
The miscreants didn't need to be told twice moving away as quickly as they could. Enraged, Sirius reached above him and viciously yanked a thin branch off of the tree and followed, his feet slamming into the ground with each step.
"Harry," Ron whispered as they double timed their steps towards the front door, his voice trembling and his backside twinging.
"Shut it!" Harry hissed back, not wanting to further enrage his godfather. He could hear Sirius stomping behind them, the man's stride angry enough to frighten dementors.
Once inside the castle, Sirius yanked the cloak off of them. "You," he barked, pointing at Ron, "get to your dorm. Your parents will hear about this." An audible squeak escaped Ron's throat as he threw Harry an apologetic look before running off in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.
"And you," he growled at Harry, grabbing his arm and turning towards the Astronomy Tower. "You come with me."
Harry had to move quickly to keep up with his godfather's determined stride. Sirius had him in a tight grasp and the boy trembled, having never seen his guardian this enraged, even after pulling him out of the Grove. He didn't fail to notice the torn tree branch in the man's other hand and the thought of what it might be intended for made him swallow painfully.
Too quickly for Harry's taste they arrived at the entrance to the Astronomy Tower and, with force, Sirius frog marched him up the spiral staircase. When they reached the entrance to the residence Harry's heart almost stopped when the door flew open of its own accord. His godfather pushed him into the sitting room and with a quick wave of the man's hand, the door slammed shut.
"Sirius," Harry sputtered, scared by the rage he saw in the man's storm gray eyes. With a fierce glare, his godfather silenced him immediately.
"What were you thinking?" he demanded, his shoulders heaving with rage. "Why would you go out there at this time of night? Were you forced? Did something terrible happen? Was it a life or death situation?" Sirius' voice was increasing in volume and pitch with each demand, reaching a crescendo that was practically earsplitting.
"ANSWER ME!"
Gulping, tears already beginning to fall, Harry shook his head. "No, sir."
The answer did nothing to calm the man. If anything, it seemed to fuel his anger further. As rapid as a snake strike, Sirius grabbed him again, dragging him over to the couch and bending him over the arm. Harry stopped himself from face planting into the seat cushion, scrabbling for a throw pillow and burying his face into it. He whimpered as he felt his godfather grasp the waistbands of his trousers and pants and roughly yank them down to his knees. A heavy pressure pinned him down as Sirius' left hand held Harry's back firmly against the couch to discourage movement. Raising his right hand high, he brought it crashing down against the boy's small pale backside.
Harry heard the sickening crack of skin against skin milliseconds before he felt the first impact. He yelped, the burning smack feeling far worse than anything he had been given with the paddle. Over and over Sirius' hand rose and fell until Harry was sure that his godfather's hand print was branded onto his poor backside. He wept silent tears determined to take his well deserved punishment as manly as he could manage, his grip on the throw pillow practically ripping it into pieces. After a moment or two, he thought he felt Sirius losing steam, and thinking it was the right moment to begin his apologies, he lifted his head from the pillow.
"I'm sor.." he croaked before he felt an especially sharp smack.
"Do..NOT..tell..me..you..are...sorry," Sirius hissed, punctuating each word with a smack. Sirius drew himself back away from the couch, his breaths coming in a shuddering gasp. Shaking out the sting from his hand, he began to pace.
"Sometimes I think you don't even know the meaning of the word, Harry James," he said ruefully.
His godfather's declaration hit him like a punch to the stomach and it was only then that Harry began to cry in earnest. Sirius' heart broke hearing the boy's sobs, but he kept himself firm, too scared and angry to be placated by tears.
"What business did you have being out there tonight? Let's not even talk about it being after curfew and even after your bedtime. What in Merlin's name made you think it was a good idea to be out on the grounds at night, with a FULL MOON, no less, and who knows how many enemies looking to harm you? Do you listen to anything I tell you?"
Harry winced at the mention of the moon and suddenly he realized why his godfather had wanted him inside tonight and not been able to accompany him to Hogsmeade.
"Well?" Sirius demanded, making his godson acutely aware that he was expecting a reply.
Harry swallowed hard, his voice hitching. "Ron," he gulped against his tears. "Ron came into the common room. Told me to get my cloak."
"And you just went," Sirius snarled. "No questions, no hesitation. Knowing my fears for you. You just...went."
Beginning to sob again, Harry nodded into the pillow. "Yes, sir." He raised his red blotchy face to his guardian, his breath hitching. "You wouldn't let me go with them. You didn't say why. I was mad," he finished, breaking down again, his excuse seemingly ridiculous now even to him.
The words hit Sirius like a bolt. He stood there a moment as if completely unable to process what he was hearing.
"You were mad?" he asked incredulously. "You went out on the grounds, with no idea where you were going, with someone who, for all you knew, could have been under the Imperious, all because you were mad?"
The anger began to swirl in Sirius' head again and he launched himself back to where he had placed the torn tree branch. Stripping it quickly of smaller branches and leaves until it was whippy smooth, he returned his attention to the boy still bent over the couch.
"Oh no, young man," he snarled. "I will show you mad." And with that, he raised the switch above his head and brought it down sharply six times.
The first stroke caught Harry entirely by surprise. When it landed across the backs of his thighs he didn't register any pain, only pressure. It took a split second for the pain to catch up, the switch branding twin lines of fire against his skin. To suppress the need to cry out, he jammed a corner of the throw pillow into his mouth and bit down hard. He could hear the sickening swish of the switch whip through the air five more times, the backs of his legs on fire.
Harry cried pitifully into the pillow for several moments. Part of it was from the whipping he had received. It had hurt, after all. But most of it was knowing that his behavior was inexcusable. He didn't exactly know what it was that made him forget to be respectful of his godfather's wishes. Maybe just because it was still new for him, but that excuse wouldn't fly forever. He loved Sirius. More than he had ever loved another person, and deep down he knew that even included the cherished memories of his deceased parents. Yet he continued to defy and worry the most important person in his life.
As he sobbed, he could hear Sirius pacing behind him, at one point snapping the wicked switch into pieces and hurling them against the wall with muttered profanity. A moment later his trousers and pants were yanked back up into position, the fabric scraping roughly against his tender skin, causing him to sputter and choke.
"Go to bed," Sirius said quietly, his voice rough and ragged.
Harry slowly pulled himself up off of the couch, every movement reigniting the fire in his backside. With his sleeve he scraped the remains of his tears from his cheeks as he gingerly turned toward Sirius.
The man was standing with his back to him. Arms crossed, his posture unyielding, and Harry knew that there would be no comforting for him tonight.
"Good night, Sirius," Harry said, his voice wet with tears. He turned towards his room and slowly shuffled to it as fast as his sore body would let him. He paused when he reached the door, glancing back to where his godfather had not moved an inch. "I love you," Harry said quietly, the tears falling again. He turned again and entered his room, closing the door softly.
He was mercifully too late to see Sirius' shoulders begin to violently shake with the force of his own sobs.