Raylynx's POV
It was storming at Hogwarts. The wind, thunder, and lightning were all whipping about the castle furiously.
Quincy was shivering in his tank. With Hagrid's help, I'd managed to set up Quincy in a new cage with burning wood logs and chips. Hagrid had taught me about how different wood chips produced different tasting flames. He'd given me a bunch of different pouches filled with different woods for Quincy to try.
But Quincy wasn't in the mood to try anything right now. He hated the sound of the rain lashing against the wind. It would be as if I had woken up to find the ocean pounding at my door.
A loud boom of thunder roared out, and Quincy flinched and scurried under the log.
"It's all right," I said, trying to soothe Quincy. He peeked out with frightened eyes.
"Here, look. I'll quiet the sounds." Lifting my wand, I soundproofed my living quarters magically. The sound of the angry thunder and rain faded away. "That's better, isn't it?"
Quincy poked his head out and blinked twice.
I smiled. "We'll be all right, Quincy, you and me." But the smile transformed into a sigh as I admitted, "It's Sirius I'm worried about."
Behind me, the clock chimed. It was time to go down to the Great Hall for the welcoming feast.
"Here," I said, tossing in some wood chips from a pouch labeled "Cherry Wood Chips."
"See if you like those," I told Quincy, as he darted around to catch the fire coming off of the wood chips.
"You feast here. I've got to go down now." I pulled on my robes and then made my way downstairs, hearing the growing sound of students chattering and laughing as I approached the Great Hall.
There was a great deal of slipping and sliding going on as all of the students, who were soaked to the bone, made their way to their respective tables. I saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione sitting together at the Gryffindor table, chatting with Nearly Headless Nick.
I took my seat between Sinistra and Vector, exchanging greetings with them. Happily, Snape was not yet down. I prayed he would be stuck next to Trelawney. But as my eyes swept the table, I noticed that Snape was not the only one missing. Moody wasn't here yet.
I remembered my conversation with Molly at Platform 9¾ this morning and bit my lip. Did something happen with Moody? Molly said that Arthur and Amos would get him out of any trouble. I wonder what she meant by that... But I shouldn't let myself get too worried, right? I mean, it's Moody. He's basically a war hero, so he won't be in any real trouble. And even if he does, I'm sure Dumbledore will get him out of it.
My eyes slipped to Dumbledore's seat. He was sitting there with his long, thin fingers together as he rested his chin upon them and stared up at the ceiling. He seemed lost in thought. What is he thinking about? I would never know.
But Dumbledore's being here was a strong sign that Moody was all right and simply running late. Or else, it meant the worst – that something bad had happened and even Dumbledore was unaware of it. I prayed it was the former.
The first-years came in. The boy bringing up the rear was wearing a strange, extremely oversized coat that dragged along the ground. What? That's definitely not a part of the school uniform. I blinked and looked closer. It took me a minute to realize that the little boy was wearing Hagrid's moleskin overcoat.
As he came down towards the front, he seemed to catch someone's attention at the Gryffindor table. The little boy said shrilly, "I fell in the lake! It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and pushed me back in the boat!"
"Cool!" the boy replied. I looked over and realized from their physical similarity that they were plainly brothers. "It was probably the giant squid, Dennis!"
"Wow!" Dennis said, looking amazed.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. The Giant Squid, huh?
But there was no further time for talk. Professor McGonagall had appeared with the stool and the Sorting Hat, and the Sorting promptly began. As the students were sorted, I kept my eye on the staff door behind us. I was expecting Moody to come in at any second now, but the door never moved.
I looked up at Dumbledore, worried, but he had risen from his seat just then. Smiling, Dumbledore opened his arms wide in welcome. He beamed as he said, "I have only two words to say to you. Tuck in."
The students cheered. They couldn't wait to help themselves to the hot and hearty food after their rainy and cold trip up to the castle.
The stormy weather, depicted by the magical sky of the Great Hall, continued to rumble on throughout the feast. Finally, after dessert had been finished, Dumbledore got up from his seat once more.
"So!" Dumbledore said. "Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices."
Dumbledore gave out the usual notices before he cleared his throat and said, "It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."
A loud gasp arose from the students, and the Quidditch players of each House seemed simply appalled. Speaking calmly, Dumbledore continued, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts -"
Bang! At that moment, the doors of the Great Hall flew open. There was a deafening rumble of thunder coming in from the storm outside. None other than Mad-Eye Moody walked in. I let out a breath of relief.
The students, on the other hand, seemed positively petrified of this strange man with a wooden leg and magical eye and deeply scarred face. I couldn't really blame them. It was only because I knew Mad-Eye and had worked with him that I felt reassurance, as opposed to fear, when I saw him. And even then, there was a slight twinge of apprehension when I saw him.
Mad-Eye, ignoring the students' hushed whispers and not-so-subtle pointing, clunked his way up to Dumbledore. Dumbledore and Moody shook hands. Dumbledore muttered words to Moody that I couldn't hear, but I saw Moody shake his head in reply.
Moody joined us at the staff table, sitting next to Flitwick, who seemed a bit unnerved. Moody pulled a plate of sausages towards him and sniffed it. Then, taking a small knife out of his pocket, Moody speared a sausage on the end of it. Meanwhile, his magical eye was whizzing around to take in his surroundings.
Dumbledore faced the students again and said brightly, "May I introduce our new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher? Professor Moody."
Dumbledore, Hagrid, and I clapped for Moody, but we were the only ones. Moody's eye swiveled over to me. He seemed amused to see that I was clapping for him.
When the awkward and short-lived applause faded away, Dumbledore turned back to the students and continued, "As I was saying, it is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."
A loud, familiar voice broke out. "You're joking!"
Heads swiveled over to look at Fred Weasley at the Gryffindor table. I saw McGonagall shake her head a little, but Fred's interruption gave everyone an excuse to laugh, breaking the tension created by Moody's sudden arrival.
Dumbledore addressed Fred directly, falling into his usual, light conversational tone as he replied, "I am not joking, Mr. Weasley. Though, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar-"
McGonagall cleared her throat loudly from the staff table.
"Er - but maybe this is not the time… no…" said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament…"
He gave a short explanation of the background of the Triwizard Tournament before announcing, "The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."
The students broke out in excited whispers at the mention of the prize.
Dumbledore smiled as he lifted his hand, and the sounds immediately faded away. "Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, "only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration."
At the announcement of the age line, several people made noises of outrage.
Dumbledore kept speaking. "This is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them."
His brilliant blue eyes twinkled as he said, "I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion. I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen."
Seeing the Weasley twins' furious faces, I immediately knew that they would be doing just that – wasting their time coming up with ways to trick the Age Line.
"Now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning." Dumbledore said. "Bedtime! Chop chop!"
All of the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall.
Dumbledore turned to speak with Moody. Moody was sitting at the opposite end of the table, so I couldn't hear a word they were saying. But as I left the Great Hall, I looked back at the two of them. Moody caught my gaze and the corner of his mouth lifted in a ragged, scarred smile. Then, I was pushed along by the crowd out of the Great Hall.
As I passed the staircase that led up to Gryffindor Tower, I saw Neville accidentally sink his foot into one of the trick staircases. Ron and Harry grasped him under his arms and hoisted him out. A suit of armor at the top of the stairs wheezed out its rusty laughter at Neville's mistake.
"Shut it, you," Ron told it, banging down its visor as the boys passed.
I smiled to myself as I turned and made my way up to my own living quarters.
Quincy was snoozing on his branch of fire. I looked closely at the tank and saw that all the Cherry wood chips had been eaten up. So, he must like them. Well, that's good to know.
I washed up and fell back onto my bed, staring out at my window as the storm continued to lash against the castle.
What happened to Moody? Why was he so late? I'll have to ask him… It isn't connected to Peter and Voldemort, is it? It can't be.
My head started to hurt and I could feel the ghost of a very familiar friend, insomnia, start to visit me again. I hurriedly shut off my mind from thinking about things that would keep me up all night.
Instead, I thought about Sirius. Though that too brought its own element of anxiety over his safety and well-being, thinking of him and how strong-hearted, protective, and warm he was relaxed my mind enough that I was able to curl up under the blankets and fall asleep.
I'm sure he's safe, I thought to myself hazily, as my eyes slipped shut. I'm sure he's doing okay at home, where he's got Buckbeak… and that hidden bunker as a last resort. As long as he stays at home, he'll be fine.
Sirius' POV
As soon as Raylynx and Remus left, I put on a dark black cloak and pulled the hood down so that it went down to my eyes. I led Buckbeak out of the master bedroom, down through the trap door, out of the secret tunnel, and out into the backyard. I quickly cast a Camouflage Illusion Charm on Buckbeak. I was quite adept at Illusion Charms now, as I'd been practicing them all summer. Then, in the dead of night, we took off into the sky. I guided him towards the mountains. From there, I let Buckbeak's sharp eyes do the work. He found himself a suitable, dry, and out-of-the-way cave. I petted his beak and stroked his wings.
"I know you can hunt, but I'm leaving you the ferrets, anyways," I murmured to him.
He let out a worried sound, looking at me.
"No, I'll be fine. I don't eat them, anyways," I assured him. "They're just for you."
I set the bag of ferrets down in front of him.
"Now," I said sternly, "don't eat them all at once. Space them out, all right?"
I gave him a beady stare, and he gave me one right back.
I sighed. "You're going to devour them as soon as I leave, aren't you?"
"Well, all right. Keep out of sight. I'm going to put Repelling Charms on the entrance of the cave, but that'll only do so much."
I gave him one last pat. "I'll try to be back in a few days. Be safe, now."
Buckbeak let out a soft neigh. Pulling my hood back up over my head, I turned away and left the cave.
Raylynx's POV
I had my third years and sixth years on the first day back.
I had come to love introducing new students to Ancient Runes. I saw them struggling to comprehend magic in a new language, and yet enjoying that struggle. Students no longer came to me just for "easy A's," though I was clearly a soft grader compared to other Professors at Hogwarts.
This year, I had my largest class ever. Since Sirius was free, my pamphlets and campaigns had died down over the summer, and students and parents alike were less wary of me. They would never guess that Sirius was, in fact, at my house this very moment.
My sixth years were also quite a laid-back and jolly bunch. The year before them, with Percy and Oliver, had been filled with very sweet, but very intense people throughout the class. In contrast, my current sixth years were laid-back. Certainly, they were different types of laid-back among them – for example, Fred and George Weasley and Lee Jordan were loud and cheerful, while someone like Cedric Diggory were quiet and accepting, and then someone like Angelina Johnson was very confident, almost imposing, and yet very thoughtful and casual. They were a joy to teach, though things often got out of hand because students were too nonchalant. I'd once barely managed to stop a student from drawing a Runic trap on his paper that would have clawed his face right off because he'd mistaken which way the Runes were supposed to be facing. When I told the class what could have happened and the importance of doing it correctly, I was met with a few shrugs and "All right then"s.
Thankfully, this year, my first class with my sixth years went off without a hitch.
"So, Prof," Fred said, coming up to me jauntily after class. "We've heard the Professors are in on planning the TriWizard Tournament this year."
"Of course," I replied. "We have to be. It's a large event, you know."
"Yes," George said, nodding sagely. "We were wondering, then, if you could share some of the information you know about the Tournament with your all-time favorite students."
"Are you, now?" I said, feigning surprise. "My all-time favorite students? You're sure about that?"
"Of course," Fred said, completely unabashed by this self-proclamation. "Don't tell me you prefer someone like Bill, Head Boy and with 12 O.W.L.s, only to then pick a career based off of your subject, Ancient Runes. You wouldn't be so obvious as to like him best, would you?"
I smothered my laughter behind my hand and tried to appear thoughtful. "I'd say it's about even between your brother and you two," I told him, biting down on my lower lip. "But I'd say Ginny's my favorite so far," I teased.
"She's not even in your class!" Fred said indignantly.
"Anyways - "George said, smoothly cutting across his brother. "The point is, Professor, the favoritism is reciprocated. See, we could only come to you for advice. You're the only one we trust."
"Too late," I replied knowingly. "I already know you've interrogated Professor McGonagall. Or attempted, I should say. She told me that you both fell quiet when she threatened to give you detentions."
"Damn it," Fred muttered under his breath.
"Well, all right," George acknowledged. "But we're asking very little, Professor."
Besides him, Fred nodded his head. "Just a tiny bit of information, Professor."
"Miniscule."
"A speck in the cosmic ocean."
"Fred, George, come off it," I said, raising my eyebrow at them, but still smiling.
"Really nothing at all," Fred continued airily. "In fact, we just want to know one thing – how Dumbledore's planning to keep said 'juniors' out of the running."
"Boys - " I began.
"Hear us out, Professor," George pleaded. "It's not just us being arrogant and asking you for information. We think it'll further our studies of Ancient Runes."
"Oh, really?" I said, fully allowing my skepticism to appear on my face.
"Yes," George replied. "Freddie and I were thinking that one thing Dumbledore might do is draw an Age Line around whatever stage you have to stand in front of before the impartial judge."
My expression became a little more careful. They were half-right. They were wrong about the stage, since the judge was not a person, but a magical object – the Goblet of Fire. But they were right about the Age Line.
"We were thinking that the Age Line is a derivation of Runic language, isn't that right?" Fred asked me, keeping his eyes on my expression.
"An Age Line is a derivation of Runic language, yes," I said, keeping my voice light. "As for the relevance or irrelevance of that information, I'll keep that to myself."
"Professor Kingsley - " Fred began.
I held up my hand. "Boys, I appreciate your clearly hypothetical curiosity of Ancient Runes. Truly, I do, and I encourage it. But surely you must understand that whatever information I give you, it would be useless. As I myself am unable to outwit Dumbledore, whatever I tell you will hardly help."
"Besides," I added, "the TriWizard Tournament's not all it's cracked up to be. I'd wager you're better off not competing in it."
Fred scoffed. "Are you serious? Who doesn't want to compete?"
"Besides," George said, "we could really use the prize money for- oof."
Fred suddenly elbowed George in the ribs.
"What?" I said, picking up on it at once. "What would you use the money for?"
They were both stock silent.
I sighed. "Boys… Just tell me you're not in trouble."
Both of them suddenly grinned.
"We're rogue, but not that rogue," George assured us.
"And what d'you think, that we're running some sort-of trickster mafia or black market here?" Fred snorted. "This is Hogwarts. You don't need to worry about that, Professor."
"Well," I said, thinking of the Marauders, "one can never be too careful, Fred. Hogwarts has a surprising capacity in the type of students the school can cultivate."
Sirius Black's POV
The Black Family earned its nobility because of its old pureblood lineage. But it earned its fortune off of the black market. The Wizarding World used magic to push many boundaries, some of them illegal, and even more of them unregulated. You could get your hands on virtually anything – if you knew where to go.
Rain and thunder lashed across the dark, narrow alleyway. The streets were empty, and a single, dim lantern posted over a worn, wooden door stood as a lone beacon of light. I had been pressing myself flat against the wall, but now, I quickly made my way across the narrow alleyway and knocked twice on the door.
A small slit in the wooden door opened. "Who's there?" a hoarse voice barked out.
"Toujours pur."
There was a pause. "That's a code I haven't heard in a long while."
"It's not your place to check identity," I replied firmly. "I gave you the password, now let me in."
That was yet another pause. I hurriedly looked down the alleyway in both ways to make sure no one was coming. Impatiently, I growled, "I can take my Galleons elsewhere, if you prefer-"
There was a click, and the door swung open. "Get in." I hurried in. The door slammed shut behind me.
"Now, what do you want?" the man asked me thinly.
"A Demiguise Cloak, and two vials of Polyjuice Potion," I recited quickly. "I need them now, or the deal's worthless."
"I assume you're ready to pay a small fortune?" The vendor, an elderly man with sharp wolfish eyes hiding behind thin gold-rimmed glasses, replied.
"Name your price."
"A thousand Galleons."
"I don't think so," I replied sharply. "That's a rip-off, and you know it."
"The price isn't for the items," he said, and a cruel smile appeared on his face. "It's for me not reporting you, Sirius Orion Black."
"Report me?" I laughed harshly. "You wouldn't report me in a million years, Tarren. You know why? Because you'd bring the whole Ministry down on your own head. The things you've sold… You wouldn't have a long enough life to live out your punishment."
He growled. "You bastard, I'll cut your thr-"
I immediately brought my wand up and directed it at his face. He fell silent, though the anger continued to flicker in his dark eyes. "Calm. Down," I warned. "I'm here to do a trade. Give me what I want, and I'll pay you – fairly."
"Don't they take your wand when you get locked up?" Tarren said, furiously looking at my wand.
"Would you like to find out?" I asked him.
He gritted his teeth as he glared at me. But then, all at once, he turned around and stumped off.
A moment later, he came down and threw a cloak and two vials down on the desk. "Nine hundred Galleons," he demanded.
"Six hundred, and you know damn well I'm being generous," I replied firmly. "That'll be enough for you to live off for a good couple of months."
"Seven hundred."
I shook my head. "I said six hundred."
"You're pushing your luck, boy," he said, clicking his tongue.
"What luck?" I snorted.
"Show me the money," he demanded.
I pulled out a heavy pouch from the inside of my cloak. I'd written to Gringotts in Harry's name again, and I'd timed it to make it look like Harry had taken gold out of vault for school supplies. Tarren snatched it from me. He opened it and looked inside. I saw his eyes glimmer in the dim candlelight.
"Hmmpf," Tarren grunted. "Fine. Take it."
I grabbed the Cloak and vials off the table and ran for it. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Tarren was going to report me - not to the Ministry, but to the Death Eaters.
Sure enough, only a minute or two after I'd left the store, I heard three sharp cracks, one after the other, ring out in the alleyway.
"Damn it, he's fast," I cursed under my breath. "Tarren, you right bastard…"
I could Disapparate, but the sound would be as good as an admission that I was here, and I didn't need the Death Eaters knowing that I'd been in London. I also didn't have time to unwrap the demiguise cloak in the parcel. I quickly made a break for it.
Just before I turned the corner, I heard a shout behind me. Shit! I thought. Did they see me? I kept sprinting out of the depths of Knockturn Alley and turned into Diagon Alley.
Ducking behind a pile of discarded boxes, I knelt down and hurriedly ripped the parcel open. I quickly draped the silvery cloak over me. I waited in silence, praying that the cloak would work as three pairs of footsteps ran past me.
I held my breath as I saw Lucius Malfoy, Edgar Crabbe, and Alaric Goyle race past me. Then, Crabbe grunted, "There's a light on in there."
"Where?" Malfoy asked sharply.
"That shop, right there."
The three men turned around to see the front window of a fairly large store giving off a dim light. Goyle stepped forward and knocked impatiently on the door. A moment later, it opened.
My mouth dropped open in utter shock when Remus opened the door. Immediately, my eyes swung up to the shadowy letters above the doorway. Sure enough, in peeling gold paint, the name "Flourish & Blotts" was posted about the door. Shit, I cursed inside my head.
There was a moment of hesitation as all four men stood there, blinking at each other and rather taken aback.
Then, Malfoy, impatient with Goyle, pushed Goyle aside and stepped up himself.
"What are you doing here?" Remus asked first, bewildered.
"My, my, aren't you a bold one," Malfoy said in his ever-silky voice. "Most of your kind don't even have the nerve to address purebloods."
"Mutt," Crabbe barked out, "where are you hiding him?"
"Excuse me?" Remus said, taken aback by both the derogatory term and the question.
"Sirius Black," Crabbe said knowingly. "We know you're hiding him. Drag him out, and we'll spare you, werewolf."
Remus trembled – not with fear, but with anger. Even in this dim lighting, I could see his outline shivering with the desire to silence Crabbe. But he kept his calm and replied straightforwardly, "I've afraid there's no one in here but me. I'm just moving books."
Suddenly, Malfoy laughed. "This is your job? This? You sneak here in the middle of the night to move books?"
"Tsk, tsk," Malfoy said, highly amused, "after all that education that Dumbledore gave you, this is all your life amounts to… Truly pathetic. Why is it even worth it? If you had any sense at all, you'd leave to join your pack."
"Enough." Remus glared at Malfoy and asked thinly, "What's your business here? If the only reason you knocked on this door is to taunt me, you've had your fun. Move on." He made to shut the door in their faces, but Malfoy, quick as a snake, drew out his walking stick and slammed it on Remus' hand. Remus groaned and yanked his hand back.
Goyle stepped forward and pushing Remus out of the way, Goyle led the way into the bookshop. The next moment, I heard him cry out, "Homenum Revelio!"
There was nothing but silence.
My head was pounding with anger. What I wouldn't give to kill them all on the spot, I thought savagely. Though it was undoubtedly reckless to do so, I snuck over to the store. I crouched right by the door, hoping to hell that the light wouldn't cast some sort-of shadow on me. Demiguise Cloaks were extremely effective, but they weren't always perfect. Sometimes, if the light caught you the wrong way, you could be seen as a glimmer in the air or as a brief shadow from the light.
Instead, I heard the sound of laughter and books being thrown carelessly, even blasted apart. I held my wand, ready to burst in there if they laid a single finger of Remus, secrecy be damned. Besides, I owed a debt to Lucius Malfoy, for hurting Raylynx… Not to mention the hundred other grudges I had against him. Part of me wanted them to leave quickly and leave Remus in peace, but the other part of me fervently wished for any excuse to go in there and curse them to oblivion. I dare you, Malfoy… I dare you to give me a good excuse.
But the men seemed satisfied with just tearing up the books. After they'd "had their fun," I heard Crabbe say, "Ah, the mutt's too scared to be hiding someone in here. He doesn't know how to do anything important – even hiding a criminal. All he can do is stack books."
As they began to filter out of the store, I muttered out loud, "Pompous git."
Crabbe whirled around. "What'd you call me?"
For a moment, I froze. So did Remus. As he was standing right next to the door, he had plainly heard me.
Crabbe strode forward and roughly grabbed Remus by the collar. My fingers tightened around my wand. "Did you just call me something, mutt?" Crabbe threatened.
"No…" Remus said, but he sounded uncertain.
"Crabbe. Leave it," Goyle said in a bored voice. "If there's no one here, we should leave. It's been a long night and damn it, I'd like to go home."
"Not yet," Malfoy said silkily. "We've got to return and pay dear Tarren a visit. We told that old fox what would happen to him if he pulled another false alarm on us. It's high time he gets his due."
Damn it, Tarren, I thought in my head. Why'd you have to go and be such a greedy bastard? I hope six hundred Galleons is going to be enough to pay Malfoy, Goyle, and Crabbe off – though I doubt it. To them, six hundred Galleons is nothing. I sighed quietly, hoping that Tarren had done the wise thing and taken off as soon as he'd tipped off Malfoy. Tarren was a cheating old bastard, but he didn't deserve to be tortured, which I could tell was what Malfoy had planned for him.
"Come. Leave the overgrown vermin be. We've more amusing things to do," Malfoy ordered.
Crabbe finally let go of Remus, shoving him back roughly so that Remus was pushed into the door behind him.
Then, the three men went off, grumbling amongst themselves.
Remus waited until they had turned the corner before he suddenly reached down and grasped at empty air just above me. Then, his fingers brushed against the top of my head.
"Don't, Moony," I whispered. "You'll pull my Cloak off."
"Padfoot," Remus hissed in a barely audible voice. "Are you barking mad?"
"Stand back," I told him. "Let me through."
Remus hurriedly stepped back and I stepped inside of the shop. He quickly closed the door and locked it. Then, he tried to grab my arm. He had to grope around in the air for a moment, but he managed to find my head again. Gripping my hair along with the cloak, he dragged me towards the back of the store.
"Ow, Moons, ow – Merlin, that's my hair," I grimaced in pain as he yanked me forward.
"Shut up. Get down here." Remus pushed me in front of him. I paused. We were in a much smaller back room. But I couldn't see anything else. The candles weren't lit in here.
Remus, who had reached back to close the door behind us, accidentally pushed me forward with his chest. I tripped forward slightly, but I managed to stay upright. The door closed behind me. There was total darkness.
Remus murmured quickly, "Colloportus. Muffliato. Lumos." The door made a squelching noise, and then, a feeble number of tired, nearly worn-down candles held up by a small bronze chandelier above us lit up.
"Moony, where are we?" I asked, pulling my Cloak off.
"It's the Special Collections room of Flourish and Blotts. It's a private collection, hidden away in this room," Remus explained. "But never mind that. What the hell are you doing, Sirius?" He jabbed his finger in my chest as he said angrily, "I nearly had a heart attack when I heard your voice just now!"
"Is that a confession?" I teased him, flashing him a grin. "I appreciate that, Moons. I've never liked my voice, personally." Some of the adrenaline in my bloodstream had finally thinned away, and I was feeling more like myself again.
"Answer my question," Remus said, undeterred. "Raylynx would be besides herself if she knew you were here."
"Which is why I waited until she and Harry were at Hogwarts to come here," I replied easily.
Remus glared at me. "Stop step-siding the question. Why are you here? In Diagon Alley, of all places."
"Isn't it obvious?" I asked him. "To get this."
I held up the cloak.
Remus blinked as he looked down at it. "Isn't this a Demiguise Cloak?" he recognized right away.
"Yes."
"How-?"
"That's not important, is it? The point is – I came here for this, and I got it."
"You nearly got caught doing it, Pads."
I shook my head. "But I didn't. That's what matters. And the risk is well worth it."
"And why's that? What are you planning to do with the Cloak, Sirius?" Remus asked, staring at me intensely and trying to read me.
"If I told you so quickly, what would your life come to, Moony?" I asked Remus endearingly. "You know this little guessing game adds a bit of flair to your life. So, I think that as your best mate, I've got a bit of responsibility to keep it going-"
"No, you do not. Because what I want, Sirius, is peace and quiet. You got that? Peace. And. Quiet." Remus enunciated through gritted teeth. "And if you could just stay in one place..."
Seeing the skeptical and somewhat amused look in my eyes, Remus abruptly gave up. He knew me too well, and he knew that my expression signified that the extent of my humoring him was listening to him go on like this, but that I ultimately had no intention to change course as a result of his scolding me. In a depressed and forlorn manner, Remus brought his hand up and buried his face in it. With a sigh, he said, "I guess that's impossible to ask for any semblance of peace and quiet now, though. Not with you around."
I reached out and comfortingly patted his shoulder. "There, there, Moons," I assured him. "It'll all be worth it, in the end."
