The air is cleared and several crucial misunderstandings are brought to light, Sirius and Remus finally see each other again, and though questions are answered yet more arise
Hermione could scarcely breathe she was so beside herself.
In spite of how dirty and unwell he had been, she hadn't really thought it could have gotten much worse than her cousin potentially having spent time imprisoned for a crime he hadn't committed. She'd been so awfully naive - things could always be worse.
She immediately suspected that this terrible misunderstanding must have somehow been the work of the same person who had impersonated the headmaster and Remus to sow distrust between them. The goddesses had warned them that someone was causing chaos and confusion, and this was likely another one of that person's plots. What she couldn't understand was what motive they could have possibly had to make Sirius so miserable when he was already going to prison? How could her poor cousin have been treated so unfairly at every turn and then lied to and tricked on top of it? This was twice now that a scandal had been discovered to be manufactured by this saboteur, and she wanted to know why they had decided to target her family and what else they may have done.
"Kipper!" She cried desperately, and the elf was instantly at her side. "Young mistress?" She answered tremulously, sensing her distress. "Kip?" Sirius said with sluggish disbelief, and though she was sorry to see him confused anything was better than the anger and pain that had been on his face moments ago. "Hello, Master Siri," the elf greeted him sweetly, and though his brows were still furrowed his hesitant smile reminded her that he had been handsome once and maybe could be again someday after he had time to heal.
She reached slowly for his hands, palms facing up. He hesitated, but took them in his. She could feel every bone and every piano-wire taut tendon and ligament in his hands, and the skin was still thinner and drier than she'd like. Although his grip was weak the look on his face was determined, as if he were bracing himself for more terrible news to endure. Her breath caught at his inner strength and her eyes began to water, and her elf fussed over her at her side.
Sniffling, she looked into his eyes and hoped he understood how earnest she was "Sirius, Harry is alive. He survived that night, and my father and I adopted him into our family. He's been my brother by blood since we were six years old. He got to grow up happy and healthy and safe. Kipper can bring him here if you need to see him to believe it, or we can wait if you need time to process, but he's okay. I promise on my magic your godson is well," she said, and green sparkles rose up around her, suspended in the air before twinkling out around her.
From over her shoulder Andromeda cleared her throat "It's true, cousin. I've met Harry many times. He's eleven now and he's an absolute joy. Just the spitting image of his father, but with his mother's lovely green eyes," she said, and Hermione could hear the emotion in her voice, and smelled the scent of saltwater intensify in the room. All three of them were teary-eyed, it seemed.
Expecting to see relief or happiness on her cousin's face, she was upset to find that he still looked absolutely crushed. His exhale shuddered raggedly, and he sobbed "I just don't understand," he said, sounding more defeated now than anything else "I held his little body, there was no life in it," he moaned. She looked at Andy askance, and was glad to see the woman had finally put down her book and come closer.
"Sirius, that was such a terrible and distressing night. Is it… is it at all possible that you expected the worst, and so you saw it?" She asked, her professional healer voice on in full effect. When Hermione looked down she saw her aunt had her wand gripped tightly, fingers twitching on the handle. He breathed out frustratedly, shaking his head "No Andy, I spent ages trying to revive him. I used every healing spell I could think of but nothing worked. I even attempted that muggle CPR from the baby first aid class Lilly and I attended. Chest compressions and rescue breaths and the like," he said miserably "he simply wasn't breathing, and he didn't have a heartbeat either. By the time I finally handed him to Hagrid his lips were blue and his skin was cold."
Hermione squeezed his hands tighter than she should have, and felt terribly guilty when he flinched away from her. The poor man deserved nothing but softness and comfort and warmth after what he'd been through. "Would it help to see him? Or to speak to Mr Hagrid? Or our Kipper, here? She thought the same thing as you until we met her just last month," she offered shyly, suddenly unsure of what she could possibly do to ease his suffering. Outside of vague memories of her father's period of mourning for her mother, she was entirely unfamiliar with this magnitude of loss.
He looked up at her then, his light grey eyes that were so like her own were wet and red-rimmed, and she could see some small trembling kernel of hope in them. Nodding eagerly, he cleared his throat "I want to see my boy. I want to believe that it's true, but I need to see him. To know," he rasped. Despite how weak he was, for the first time since he had woken up his voice sounded sure of itself. That had to be a net positive, even with how terribly things had unfolded.
Glancing at Kipper, the elf nodded seriously and disappeared only to return a moment later. Her father and Remus were each holding onto one of her little hands and Harry had his arms around her shoulders. Hermione winced at seeing the two adults, this probably wasn't the best time for them to show their faces, but none of them had expected anything like this. They'd allowed her to see Sirius with only aunt Andy as a chaperone because she was technically his head of house, but she should have known that neither overprotective wolf would ever allow both twins to be around him without further supervision. Thankfully the two men gave them some space as they moved to the back of the room and spoke with Andromeda in low voices, and she was able to focus on Sirius and her brother.
Pressing through her mind to the place they shared, she briefly passed on her memory of the most important parts of the conversation along to him. They were both getting better at that, but she still had him beat in terms of recollection. She watched him closely as his eyes glazed over, and she knew that he was rapidly absorbing and analyzing her memory of the events and the conversation. When he came back to himself a few seconds later he joined her next to his godfather's bedside, knelt on the floor, and reached out for the man's hand.
"Hi Sirius," he said conversationally, so calmly cheerful that it was rather incongruous with the energy of the room. It gave her a bit of emotional whiplash and she couldn't help but giggle. "'Hi Sirius' he says" she parroted with happy disbelief at his good humor, tear streaks still visible on her face and eyes still puffy but beaming all the same. "I says indeed," the boy teased lightly, and they jostled each other with their shoulders playfully.
She growled subvocally at him in warning as he shoved her a bit harder than he probably meant to. They had never exactly been the type of siblings to break into fits of wrestling like she'd seen their Weasley cousins do on occasion. Until very recently she'd had to pull her punches with all the other children in the pack, even her twin. Now that he was coming into his own and they were more evenly matched she often had to brace herself as he didn't quite yet know his strength. His hugs were tighter and his smacks hit harder than they ever had before. Fully recognizing the irony, she thought back fondly to all of her father's frantic reminders to play gently with her fragile new human brother when they had first brought him home with them.
Turn about was fair play, she supposed.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Sirius watched as the boy untangled himself from the elf and joined the girl on the floor next to his bedside, scarcely daring to hope that he could really be who they had promised. The shock of the conversation he'd just endured would have been enough to put a weaker wizard in the grave, and he prayed to any deity who might be listening that his eyes and senses weren't betraying him now. That what he was seeing was real.
He didn't think he'd be able to survive it if he found out he'd been fooled again.
Good old Kip hurried over to help him lean against the headboard, and although it felt like it took all of the effort of running a marathon he was glad to be upright. Though he'd seen spots in his vision and gone lightheaded just from sitting up, he was still sure she'd done most of the actual work of lifting and moving his sorry carcass. As he caught his breath he took in the sight of them, watching the way the two children interacted.
They were a funny pair of kids and they clearly adored each other, and he was almost immediately reminded of himself and Jamie. He could see what Andy had meant by her description, the boy really did look like a miniature version of his father. A living breathing mini Jamie, next to a teeny tiny girl who looked every bit a Black family scion. It was history happening again in front of his very eyes, and he struggled to keep it together and not cry immediately. That might be a poor first impression on the lad.
It took him a moment to realize that the child had addressed him, as he'd been distracted by the way they'd adorably teased each other and dissolved into giggles. The muscles of his face suddenly pulled tight and ached, and he belatedly realized it was because he was smiling. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had real reason to do so, and he was sure he looked a terrible skeletal fright. "Hi Harry," he replied slowly, sluggishly copying the boy's cadence, trying and certainly failing to keep his voice as light and breezy as his godson had.
The boy fearlessly and guilelessly met his gaze, and his eyes glittered like a pair of emeralds. His complexion and hair were both a touch lighter than the swarthy baby he remembered, and for a moment Sirius' panic surged to a cresting wave until he remembered that the girl had said something about them being blood adopted. It tended to change the features of the fosterling, and that could explain the subtle differences he was seeing. Skin that had once been rich brown was now a very deep tan, hair that had been raven black was darkest brown, but the face was the same. Those were Jamie's features, and Monty's as well. The child before him was still his boy.
Now that he was looking more closely, there was also a bit of curl to his hair that hadn't been there before. The Potter hair had been a godawful mess and James and his father Fleamont had both often suffered the embarrassment of it sticking up every which way no matter the occasion, but it hadn't quite been curly. Even with different eyes and complexions, that little detail made the two children look like they really could almost be true siblings.
Half siblings maybe - illegitties who shared a father.
He chuckled as he considered that the green of those eyes must have been a powerfully dominant trait to overwhelm both the Potter hazel and the Black grey on two separate occasions of magical and genetic recombination. That was such typical Lills, asserting her rightful influence on her baby boy even from beyond the grave.
Above those eyes and below the hairline, hanging suspended between them like the sword of Damocles, was a wicked twisting scar that took up a majority of the boy's forehead. It was slightly raised, gnarled-looking and pale white against the rest of his lovely brown skin. It was an ugly reminder of the worst night of both of their lives, and it was a tragedy that such a young child had been burdened with such a large and visible scar. He'd have gladly taken it for him, worn it with pride if it meant his godson could have been untouched by the events that had transpired. But if it had been the price for him surviving… it was surely worth the cost.
His hand shook as he reached out to brush the backs of his fingers against it, and the children both froze in place. He moved a little curl out of the way, swept it away from the boy's eyes, and smoothed his thumb along the lines of the scar tissue. A frown furrowed his brows as he realized that he could sense lingering dark magic residue still remaining there. Had it not ever actually healed properly? Curses like that generally took intensive spell damage treatment to fully fade.
Without warning the boy climbed up from the floor onto the bed next to him and buried himself in his side, nearly hugging the life clean out of him. Merlin's beard but just like his sister the boy had some real strength in his bones! Sirius hugged him right back as fiercely as he was able, which he was sure was laughable at the present moment. He was as weak as a kitten, after all.
Out of the corner of his eye he caught a bit of movement at the foot of his bed. Glancing over, his heart practically stopped beating as he realized that Remus was here in the room with them as well, accompanied by a very large man. It wasn't exactly a logic puzzle to figure out that the man must be his mate's new lover - Greyback. He simply didn't know what to make of that, or what to do about it. Apparently his godson had been alive and well this entire time. The things that he had wanted to yell at his boyfriend about seemed like small beans in comparison. "Everyone I love is here together in one room," he choked out, his eyes watering and his voice threatening to break "I thought I'd never see any of you ever again," he added weakly.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Standing in the same room as his mate for the first time in over a decade, Remus' heart was doing something extremely unhelpful in his chest. It's normal steady lub-dub felt more like a wild drum solo from one of those big metal bands that had started cropping up in the eighties. He was pretty sure it was doing something along the lines of thump-thumpthumpthump-thumpthump. The last time he'd felt like this was when he'd done amphetamines at a World Cup rager in Mozambique.
When Kipper had popped into the dining room during breakfast and told them all to grab on tightly, there was little mystery over the reason why they were being summoned. It had been days since Sirius had arrived at Andromeda's house, and he'd been in a deeply restorative magical sleep ever since. The healer had been unwilling to share any details of the condition he'd arrived in other than 'bad, terribly bad,' and they'd all been on pins and needles waiting for him to wake.
The sight that had greeted them was well beyond the scope of his own worst imagination. The figure laid out on Andy's spare bed hardly looked like a living person, and if he hadn't known any better he could have easily mistaken it for a corpse. Even in his most vivid and terrible dreams he hadn't ever pictured his former lover looking quite so skeletal, his eyes sunken into his face and his skin pulled tight and paper thin over the outline of starkly visible bones. In another life he might've been able to conjure something pithy to say about the definition of his cheekbones, but he was rendered utterly speechless by the fact that they looked sharp enough to cut him if he got too close.
The children were kneeling by his bedside talking to him, and Remus' heart felt like it was being wrenched out of his chest when he saw how much of a struggle it was for Sirius just to sit upright. He wouldn't have been able to manage it on his own, and he'd had to call Kipper over for help. Fenrir's hand on his shoulder grounded him and brought him back to himself, and he realized tears were freely rolling down his cheeks.
He scarcely had a moment to observe the children interacting with Sirius before Andromeda's frantic whispers drew his attention away "Glad you gents could come as quickly as you did. It's… there's really no delicate way to say this, I'm afraid. We're going to need to get Dumbledore here to clear this up for us as soon as possible, because Sirius claims to very distinctly recall Harry being dead upon his arrival at the Potter house that night. It's the only thing we've been able to get out of him since he's woken up," she said under her breath. She might have kept speaking, but he didn't know what she said as her voice faded and was replaced by a dull buzzing that felt like it was coming from inside Remus' own ears.
It couldn't be true.
If Sirius had thought Harry was dead that night then all this time that he'd been so furious with him for giving their boy away had been for nothing.
It couldn't be true because it would mean that all this time his rage would have been pointlessly misplaced. It would mean he had spent a decade being angry at someone who was a victim in all of this instead of doing something useful like trying to help him.
Remus felt sick to his stomach, and the world around him felt fuzzy and far away. He absently registered Fen's big warm hands on his arm and back drawing him to a chair and getting him settled. The realization came to him that he'd read about this before, he was disassociating. His hands felt funny, and when he looked down at them he saw that the ends of his fingertips were sharply pointed claws buried into the wool of his jumper, and that they had sliced and shredded threads up and down the sleeves.
Huh, that was new. He couldn't recall ever doing that before.
A soft knock at the door of the guest room was all that announced Albus' arrival. For the life of him Remus couldn't tell how long it had taken between Andromeda's leopard patronus bounding away and the headmaster showing up. The shock of the individual that accompanied him into the increasingly crowded little room was enough to snap him out of his stupor, and he blinked rapidly to clear his vision and make sure he wasn't imagining things. Fuuuck, how could Dumbledore be so brilliant and still make such foolish decisions?
Following the old wizard into the room, like a particularly nasty raincloud, was of course none other than Severus Snape.
He was the absolute last person on earth Sirius would ever want to see while he was sick and weak and vulnerable. Surely Albus knew having the two of them in the same room was as good as begging for a disaster. One would be as well served tossing propellant on a patch of fiendfyre to cure their boredom. Even knowing that Hermione had somehow made a sort of strange peace with the dour man didn't explain why he would be invited along to his most hated enemy's sickbed. There was no feasible explanation he could think of for why the odious man should have been brought here, Andy was a first rate healer and had personally brewed and administered all of Sirius' many medical and nutritional potions herself over the last few days.
As Dumbledore approached the bed and spoke with Sirius and the children, Snape remained in the doorway like a foul apparition. The muscles in Remus' body tensed as the man finally moved and approached the corner he was sat in. Just as tall and gangly as he'd been as a teenager, he stood next to him awkwardly with his back to the wall like he wasn't sure what to do with himself. For all that Snape's face was every bit as pinched and sour as Remus remembered, he observed that the man was so far at the very least keeping his mouth blessedly shut. It worried him how Snape was watching and listening, though, like he was mentally taking notes for later review, and Remus felt a frisson of something profound ripple through him.
He briefly shuddered at the sensation, and his eyes momentarily fluttered closed of their own volition. It was something protective, the instinct he'd suddenly felt. Not just friends. Not just family. Not just pack. Those feelings were all there, but it was something else, something much more specific. It was something inherently paternal. He wanted to step between Snape and his kids.
…His kids?
He'd thought of Harry as his own before, and so that connection wasn't too much of a surprise. The boy was his mate's godson, and that made him essentially his own godson as well. In a perfect world he and Sirius would have raised Harry as their own. Well, no actually, in a perfect world James and Lilly would have raised their son themselves and he and Sirius would have been there on the sidelines as adoring and overly permissive uncles who taught him naughty words and spoiled him rotten.
If nothing had changed and his parents had lived, Remus still would have perhaps unconsciously thought of Harry as part of his pack. Sirius had been his so James had been his so Lilly had been his so Harry was his. It was a chain of connections that even their deaths hadn't been able to break. Their deaths had however made him feel personally responsible for the boy, and it had been a sense of duty on top of familial love that had driven him to spend so much time ceaselessly and fruitlessly looking for him. Now though, after a year of knowing and teaching him, and after developing a serious romantic relationship with his father, he could say he really did love the boy like his own.
Hermione was the surprise, not that it was a surprise to adore her. She was an easy child to adore. A little girl with a big personality, kind and smart and silly and good, she had burrowed her way into his heart without him really noticing. Searching his feelings, he was pleased to discover that he felt the same love for her that he did for her brother. He belatedly realized that he had been calling her sweetheart and darling and dearest one for months now without even thinking twice about it, and no one had ever looked at him funny or said a word. That was a bit embarrassing, and he wondered how long his pheromones must have been screaming 'papa bear' for everyone around them to think him being so affectionate with her was passé enough not to mention.
So yeah, his kids… Wasn't that something?
He glanced up at Snape out of the corner of his eye and it took everything he had to hold back a snarl, he really didn't like the way that creep was watching his mate and his kids. Fuck, he really needed to get his head on right. He shook himself, and tried harder to dial in to what was happening across the room.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Severus was not the most socially well-adjusted, but even he could tell that the look on Lupin's face was barely-withheld and poorly disguised rage at his presence in Black's sickroom. He could hardly admit how little he himself wanted to be there without making things even more awkward than they already were, so he remained steadfastly silent. He couldn't for the life of him understand why Albus had thought his attendance would be in any way productive when he so easily could have taken the veritaserum and come alone. There was simply no need for him to hand deliver it.
It was just one more in a long line of many questionable decisions that he was unable to wrap his head around.
He instinctively paid close attention as the headmaster addressed Black and the Greyback children, unable to ignore the scene unfolding before him but also severely displeased that he was once again in the thick of their personal lives. This smacked of more of their ridiculous werewolf shenanigans. The pair of them had only been his students for a month and already they were by far his most troublesome.
He could feel Lupin's steely gaze practically burning a hole in the side of his head, and he staunchly ignored him. He may have changed his mind about one or two little werewolves, but that didn't mean he was ready to kiss and make friends with all of them. Especially not one who had nearly killed him once, however long ago it was and however accidental it may have been.
"I must say I'm rather glad to see you looking so well, Sirius. I had feared the worst when Andromeda informed me of the sorry state you arrived in," Albus said blithely, and Severus fought a wince. Even he wouldn't have necessarily opened by poking at a wound that was clearly still so fresh, and he hated Black more than he could put into words. It was unbecoming to taunt the infirm, and Black was looking absolutely wretched. He couldn't imagine the state the man must have been in if this was somehow an improvement - he had the general appearance of something that had been recently exhumed.
"What's going on, and why is he here?" The man asked, his voice still managing to sound petulant even as ragged and raspy as it was. An arm that was as thin and withered as a twig shook as Black lifted it from his bed to accusingly point a tremulous finger at Severus. He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, but otherwise remained silent. He didn't want to get more involved in this debacle than he already was, and he certainly didn't want to give them any ammunition to use against him.
"Now now, your school days are behind you. Let's put those schoolyard rivalries behind us as well. There are far more important matters at hand that we must discuss," the headmaster said in that dismissive way he had that so often infuriated Severus. He was a bit satisfied to see Albus use it on one of his precious golden Gryffindors, but he knew better than to be smug about it. He knew from experience that he'd be reprimanded far more harshly if he started trouble than Black or Lupin ever would be. The man in question grumbled frustratedly, but was clearly too weak to put up any real fight. Albus patted his arm kindly but a bit patronizingly.
"Severus' presence here serves several purposes. He has procured for us a vial of freshly brewed veritaserum that you and I shall both imbibe. He can attest to its efficacy as a potions master. He will then bear witness to the conversation that follows. As someone who has never been a friend of yours, his testimony will hold more weight than any other contemporary we might place on the stand in your defense. By virtue of the fact that he has no motivation to ever speak in your favor unless it were to merely report the objective truth as fact, I believe he shall ultimately be the star witness in your defense… that being said, I do admit my assumption that you would want your version of events to be heard might have been premature. For all I know you could have escaped with the intention of killing everyone in this very room, although I confess that I struggle to imagine how you planned to achieve such a feat in your current diminished state…" he said far too jovially, and his sentence tapered off as he began to thoughtfully stroke the end of his long silvery beard.
Despite how ghastly pale he was already, Black visibly blanched at the suggestion. Meanwhile the two children on either side of him both gasped and clutched each others hands tightly. After a painful looking gulp, Black cleared his throat and held out his arm again, palm up expectantly "Fine, I'll take the serum. I don't want there to be doubt in anyone's minds," he said, and he sounded surprisingly determined for someone who looked like they'd dissolve into a cloud of dust if the slightest breeze blew by. Though his arm shook, he didn't let it fall back to his side until Severus approached the bedside, vial in hand.
The man's eyes narrowed in blatant suspicion and the distaste on his face was plain to see, but he made no further remarks. The headmaster nodded in approval and stuck out his tongue, willing to go first as a show of good faith. Severus unstoppered the cork and carefully poured forth exactly three drops, enough for roughly fifteen minutes of the truth from the old man. Before any of the adults could get a word in edgewise, the girl and boy were hurriedly speaking over themselves to be the first to sneak a question past them "Professor, what's the grossest thing you've ever done?" "Sir, what's your most secret secret?" They said at nearly the same time.
The sight of Albus' utterly mortified expression could have powered a strong enough patronus for Severus to personally destroy every single dementor in Azkaban. His face was nearly steam engine red, his eyebrows practically levitated off of his forehead they were raised so high, and his mouth was wide agape like a river fish. It was breathtaking.
The old man had a hand halfway to his mouth when he blurted out "As a young researcher, I had to participate in the autopsy and ingredient harvesting of a dragon carcass while I was trying to discover the uses of their blood. It was absolutely disgusting, vile, grotesque! I'll never go near another of the creatures again as long as I live… And also, I was in love with Gellert Grindelwald and we might have been married if he hadn't tried to take over the world," his face turned even redder as he tried to stop himself but he just kept going as if compelled "It's why I couldn't kill him in our final duel. I think he wanted me to but I couldn't, and I've never told a soul. Only my brother Aberforth knows. He was there when we-" he choked as he cast a wordless silencing spell on himself. His mouth kept going but no words came forth, and he rushed to cover the bottom of his face with his hands so no one could read his lips.
The room was utterly silent as if a bomb had gone off, and in a way it had. He heard Lupin swear from the corner behind him, Black barked out a single horrible laugh, and the girl promptly burst into tears "I'm so sorry, professor, I don't know why I said that!" She blubbered, and Severus rolled his eyes and fought not to make a snarky retort about the headmaster being old enough to know better than to take the most powerful truth serum in the world around children.
Black reached up one of those twig-like arms and ruffled her enormous hair, his spindly fingers getting slightly tangled in her messy curls "Ah now that's a shining example of why you don't take veritaserum lightly, little cousin. We used to play drinking games with it in the Gryffindor common room after curfew. Think truth or dare but dialed up to an eleven because you literally can't lie. In hindsight it was quite foolish of us, but we had good fun exposing each others deepest secrets. Suffice it to say, the secrets of teenagers are a fair bit more harmless than the secrets of dodecagenarions," he said with a frightening smile that looked like it had been carved into his face. Though Albus was certainly regretting his own poor decision, it had obviously worked as intended to break the ice with Black.
The girl mulled what he'd said over for a moment or two, as if she had gleaned some great wisdom from the man's insipid rambling, before scooting closer to headmaster and patting his shoulder kindly "I still shouldn't have asked that. If it makes you feel better sir, I have a crush on my best friend Neville, and sometimes when we're studying together in the library I think about what it might be like to hold hands someday," she said, a little dreamily and with cheeks turning slightly pink, but as earnestly and meaningfully as only a child could be.
"Hermione Elena Greyback, you'd better not start taking advantage of me leaving you unchaperoned with that cad!" Her brother asserted with all the air of a little lordling, and Severus rolled his eyes as Black started howling with laughter.Two vivid spots of color rose to her cheeks as she scowled at him "Shut up or I'll make you listen to all the things Aunt Cissy wrote to me about courting etiquette!" She threatened hotly. Knowing Narcissa Malfoy quite well, he could only imagine the absolute dissertation she had probably given the poor girl on such a subject. The girl could likely make very good on that threat, and her brother shut himself up promptly, an amusing look of horrified submission on his little face.
Albus released himself from his self-imposed silence, and cleared his throat primly "Merlin's curly white beard my dear girl, you don't pull any punches do you? A little lioness through and through, you quite remind me of your head of house when she was your age… I'm afraid I do have to request that you fine fellows agree to please keep my secret to yourselves. I've kept it for nearly sixty years now, and I find myself rather embarrassed to have so thoughtlessly revealed it. You need not apologize or feel badly Miss Greyback, let's just all try and stay focused and not ask such personal questions going forward, hmm? Our purpose is to uncover what really happened eleven years ago," he told the girl kindly but firmly, his cheeks still quite pink. She nodded, still looking somewhat morose but pacified for the time being.
"I'll take that serum now, I want you all to hear my side of things," Black said, and opened his mouth. Briefly he wondered if the man's dramatic physical deterioration might necessitate a lower dose, but he decided to give him the full amount regardless. He knew the man was most likely a natural occlumens, the trait ran in his family and his brother Regulus had been exceptionally talented at it. A full dose was the safest bet, even if he was underweight and weak.
One. Two. Three drops.
Black pulled his tongue back in his mouth and smacked his lips obnoxiously. The air in the room became tense and the grandfatherly facade fell away from Albus' face. He sat up straighter on the edge of the bed and his magical aura was palpable. This was the terribly powerful wizard that had fought and defeated Grindelwald. This was the wizard some said was the second incarnation of Merlin himself. Every line and wrinkle of age could have told a hundred stories and then some. It was overwhelming and Severus suddenly felt like a fish flopping on a pier, hauled out of its comfortable watery home and gasping at the dryness of the air.
"What is your name?" he asked Black sternly, and what was a cozy conversation between old chums seamlessly transformed into a forensic interrogation. He suddenly recalled that Albus' motive for his presence was in part to act as a witness for the events that transpired here, and he idly wondered if members of the DMLE and Wizengamot would eventually see his memories of this evening. He knew the girl had claimed some sort of noble right to give her cousin sanctuary, but he wasn't sure how legally sound the arrangement actually was.
Could it reflect poorly on him if it was known he'd been in the presence of a wanted criminal and done nothing to aid in his capture?
"I was born Sirius Orion Black, but occasionally I am called Padfoot by close friends," the man wheezed monotonously, his eyes slightly glazed over. The standard dose may have been unnecessary after all. The headmaster raised a single accusatory silver brow in Severus direction, but he refused to be cowed. Better too much than not enough, after all.
"Why did you escape from Azkaban, Sirius, and how?" He asked next. Black continued in the same somewhat droning mumble and told a long and rambling story about somehow acquiring a newspaper, reading in it that Lupin had moved on romantically, and needing more than anything else to find and confront him about it. Severus scoffed, disgusted. Typical arrogant self-centered fucker, he hadn't changed at all. Not a single care in the world for his own godson. Locked away in prison and he was still possessively chasing tail.
"Sirius, tell us what happened on the night of October 31st 1981," Albus commanded, and Black's face fell and he whimpered pathetically. "It all happened so fast, it was over almost as soon as it started. We knew the Potters and the Longbottoms would be targeted, but we'd gotten intelligence that they might go for others as well to distract and delay us. By the time night fell there were death eater raids going on at three other houses, and the dark mark was up everywhere. It was absolute chaos, and we were all split up. I got a distress call from James requesting backup and I dropped everything to rush to Godric's Hollow and help in any way I could… I was too late to do anything at all."
Severus scowled, his mind racing. Black's version of events already sounded radically different from not only the official story but also most of the rumors and even the crackpot theories. "Go on," the headmaster prompted, "what happened when you reached the house?" He asked, leaning in, obviously desperately curious. Black fisted his hands at his sides weakly and looked down at the boy beside him, his eyes more alert now and sparkling with unshed tears.
"There wasn't a living soul in the house by the time I arrived. James was dead in the stairwell, Lilly was dead in the nursery, Voldemort was slumped dead against the rocking chair, and Harry… My godson was dead in his crib. I still don't understand how he's here now, alive. I held his little corpse, tried and failed to heal and revive him. When I touched his skin it was cold and his lips were blue. I held him and Kipper and we cried and cried until Hagrid showed up. I handed his body over and he promised to watch over him and his parents until someone could come around to take care of them properly… Then I left the house to go hunt down and kill Peter," he said darkly, to startled gasps all around.
Albus' roving gaze caught his own and Severus nodded at the subtle legilimency the man brushed inquisitively against his mental walls. Yes, he projected back in his mind's eye, an unfortunate aspect of the serum. If one genuinely perceives a falsehood to be fact certifiable, then they are able to report it as if it were the truth. Black must have sincerely believed the boy was dead, someone either modified his memories and planted extremely detailed false ones, or fooled his senses entirely with some sort of illusory effects.
From the corner of the room behind him he heard a choked sob leave Lupin's throat, and heavy footsteps approached the bedside where he stood "Sirius Black do you mean to say you didn't intentionally abandon our boy?" The man asked, his voice desperate and sharp and a hair's breath away from hysterical. Black shuddered and his eyes scrunched tightly shut "No, I didn't, I- Moony? You're here?" He moaned, covering his face with his hands and shaking his head "No, no, no! I didn't want you to see me like this!"
He was all too familiar with Black's vanity, it was nearly worse than Lucius', yet Severus was surprised to find that he felt a pang of sympathy for the man. Black may have tormented him when they were teenagers, but he had also fallen so far from the beautifully handsome young man he'd once been it was like he was a ghost of himself. He had no power over him anymore, he had once glowed with vitality and now he lay like a wraith in a sick bed, too weak to even stand unassisted. For all that it was rather pathetic, it was honestly more tragic than anything else. Even at his very lowest point, crying on his knees before Dumbledore and the Dark Lord, he didn't think he had ever been quite so openly vulnerable.
The children both rubbed Black's shoulders and back from where they were curled around him on either side, trying to comfort him and stop the oncoming meltdown. He began to sob quietly and Severus felt intensely uncomfortable. He really was invading a terribly private moment, and he once again cursed Albus for making him a part of this. Before he could protest further or slip away unnoticed, the old wizard began to speak and everyone stopped what they were doing to listen "Now Sirius, you say you gave Harry to Hagrid and then you left. Why did you go after Peter? Why did you kill him?" He prodded heedless of the tension in the room, his bushy silver brows furrowed together in curiosity.
Lupin sniffed and rubbed at his nose "Headmaster, must we really-" he attempted, but Black furiously cut him off at the knees "Because he betrayed James and Lilly! Why are YOU asking me that Dumbledore, when it was YOUR idea to switch secret keepers? Why did you never tell anyone it wasn't me? You could have had me freed years ago!" he declared, voice straining from both exertion and emotion. By the time Black finished his tirade he was panting like a horse that had just run a derby, and his color had somehow become worse than before, even more pallid and sallow.
In the lifetime he'd known Albus he'd only once or twice seen such open shock on the old wizard's wrinkled face, not counting the incident with the veritaserum right in this very room only a short while ago.
"I- I beg your pardon?" He asked incredulously.
"Good, you should beg!" The man snarled viciously in response, though his pathetic condition made the insult come across as rather toothless. Like a kitten trying to hiss and scratch on sheer instinct alone. "Sirius…" Lupin cautioned, and Black scoffed and turned his head to the side, his teeth gritted and his jaw tight. The headmaster glanced his way and gestured with his chin to the bottle he still clutched in his hand "Another drop for us each Severus, this is too important for there to be even a shadow of a doubt," he insisted. Dutifully, he administered yet another drop of the truth serum on each of their tongues. Already partially overdosed, Black's face fell into a somewhat chilling neutral expression as his eyes glazed over again. Albus' were only slightly glassy, but then again he was a master legilimens with incredible control over his mental faculties.
Deciding it was time to intervene, Severus guided the next set of questions so they could hopefully stay on topic and get to the bottom of things before they all died of old age "Albus did you at any point suggest to Sirius Black, James Potter, or Lilly Potter that they should use Peter Pettigrew as their secret keeper for the home in Godric's Hollow?" He asked.
"No, I did not," the old man replied wearily.
"Albus at any point did Sirius Black, James or Lilly Potter, or Peter Pettigrew inform you of a plan to switch secret keepers?" He pushed, not suspecting the wizard of duplicity but knowing there would be room for doubt if he didn't ask.
"No, they did not," he answered. He sighed heavily "As a matter of fact, I had very little contact with any of them after the 1981 school year started. There were a great deal of unavoidable matters at the castle that needed my attention, and I was there more often than I was not. Alastor and Minerva helped pick up the slack and I lost track of time I suppose. There were only two opportunities I would have had to see them, and that term I ended up missing both the September and October order meetings. The wizengamot and the board of directors were practically tag teaming me with complaints and grievances and special sessions. Not keeping closer contact with the Potters when they needed me was one of my bigger regrets after the war ended," he admitted softly.
"Sirius Black, were you the secret keeper for James and Lilly Potter's home in Godric's Hollow?" Severus asked, turning to Black. The man's head rose as if lifted by a puppet string, and when he spoke his voice was dull and monotonous "For a time," he said. He would need to be more specific. "Sirius Black, at the time of their deaths who was the secret keeper for James and Lilly Potter's home in Godric's Hollow?" He demanded, growing frustrated.
"Peter Pettigrew, he had been their secret keeper for two weeks by the time they were killed," he replied blandly. "Sirius Black, whose idea was it for James and Lilly Potter to switch secret keepers?" He asked curiously. It couldn't have actually been Albus, the man had just sworn his innocence with enough truth serum to sedate a centaur pumping through his veins.
"It was professor Dumbledore's idea. He approached me at the beginning of October, and said that with the kind of danger they were in extra measures needed to me taken to protect them. He said anyone who knew the first thing about us would assume that I would know where to find them, and that it would be safest for everyone if I didn't actually know their location. I was a bit hurt to be honest, but he wasn't wrong. Everyone knew James and I were like pumpkin and pie crust," he said, still devoid of emotion. It was haunting.
Severus was at a loss for words. Even if people might word things differently or recall certain facts with different emotions attached to them, there wasn't such a thing as different versions of the truth when two people took veritaserum. Things didn't make sense but they were starting to add up. Adding up to nonsense, but adding up all the same. There were three possibilities, and only one of them was really feasible:
Something was wrong with the veritaserum. (There wasn't, he'd brewed it himself and it had never left his person since he'd bottled it.)
One of them was lying. (They weren't, they couldn't be. They had taken the truth serum and it had worked.)
One of them had been compromised in some way. (It had to be Black, no one alive was powerful enough to imperio or obliviate Albus without him realizing. They already knew Black had been tricked about the Potter boy's death. Someone had to have impersonated the headmaster and fooled him two weeks earlier as well. Perhaps the same person…)
"Sirius Black, how did professor Dumbledore get in contact with you to give you the idea of switching secret keepers?" He asked, his suspicious and calculating mind three steps ahead already.
"He didn't, everything we discussed was in person. He said it was too dangerous to put on paper, that owls couldn't be trusted. He just showed up at my flat one day out of the blue. I didn't even think to ask how he knew where I lived. It creeped me out a bit to be honest, like seeing a goblin on the Hogwarts express," he said, and Severus felt a rush of triumph as his theory was all but confirmed.
"Sirius Black did you do anything to confirm Albus Dumbledore's identity when he showed up at your home?" He asked, feeling as though he were prodding at a half-congealed scab, just waiting for it to be dislodged and start bleeding.
"I- what? No… it was Dumbledore? We talked about order business. He knew about James and Lilly being in hiding. He reminded me of what I did to you when we were students. Said if I gave it any real thought then I'd realize it was for the best to trust someone else who didn't have such a dark vindictive streak," he said, and the detachment was almost painful to watch. No one should be able to say such things so lifelessly. He would hate this potion if it weren't so useful.
"Sirius Black, in the time that you were James and Lilly Potter's secret keeper did you ever knowingly give their location to anyone that you thought might wish them harm?" He asked, already feeling as though he knew the answer.
"No, never. I only ever told their location to people they asked me to and who I thought they could trust. I told them their own address, I told Minerva and Dumbledore, Alastor, Frank and Alice, Marley and Dorcas, and Peter and Remus. Not another soul," he swore, and there was heavy emotion bleeding back into his voice, fighting not the serum itself but the haze of it. He'd seen people try to fight the serum before, and they always regretted it.
"Sirius Black, did you kill Peter Pettigrew?" He asked, now unsure of what the answer might be when before today he'd have been certain. "No but I wanted to, and I've spent every day for the last ten years wishing I had," Black said, and his voice echoed with an aching longing. He'd heard men long for love or family or loss, but he'd never heard anyone long for a lost kill. It made him nauseous, and he almost wished the answer had been a simple yes. That would have at least been less disturbing.
"Sirius Black, if you didn't kill Peter Pettigrew then what happened to him? There were witnesses to your confrontation. Over a dozen muggles died in the crossfire."
"I don't actually know for certain. I hunted him down and we fought. I should have just killed him, but I aimed to stun and he aimed to destroy the very street we were standing on. It exploded and he disappeared. His spell was what took out the muggles, it must've been an overpowered bombarda or something similar. Maybe he accidentally vaporized himself by casting too close to his own body. Maybe he scurried off and is living it up somewhere far away from here, if he survived the blast he could be anywhere in the world. Either way, I hope to never see or think about him again as long as I live," he said, voice flinty and firm. His face fell as he looked down at his godson "…I just hope I don't need to be able to prove he's still alive to make my case," he mumbled, his eyes started to clear as he finally began to come out of the worst of the serum's grip.
Severus turned back to the headmaster, there were still a few more tangles in this mess left to unravel "Albus, why did you send Hagrid to the Potter's residence on the night they were attacked?" He asked. The old wizard took a moment longer to consider it then he'd have expected "You know, my boy… I don't exactly recall that I did. Hagrid came to my office in the early morning and reported that Remus had collected Harry and taken off. Ah, and he gave me the letter," he glanced at Lupin, who was flushed with embarrassment and shaking his head emphatically "But we've established professor, I didn't write that letter and I didn't have Harry! Every word of it was a lie," he insisted.
He was starting to get a headache trying to keep track of all of this nonsense, now there was correspondence and the location of a child to keep track of on top of fraudsters and flim-flammers. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he fought the urge to say something rather rude "So if I understand this all correctly someone impersonated Albus to trick Black into changing secret keepers, then impersonated Hagrid to trick Black into thinking Potter was dead and also trick Albus into thinking the boy was in Remus' custody?" He summarized, glancing around the room in case anyone else had something useful to add.
"Professor Snape, there's something I can't wrap my head around," the girl began tentatively, and he turned to give her his attention "I've read about spells and potions to change the way you look. How could someone have impersonated Mr Hagrid with one? Isn't he-… well, it's just that, he's part giant, right? Most magic doesn't work properly on them, does it?" She asked, her voice soft and small. He reeled back a bit, thunderstruck. She was of course absolutely correct, and in all of the confusion he'd forgotten that crucial detail.
He locked eyes with Albus, who also appeared rather stumped "That's… quite a good observation, Miss Greyback. If we were at the castle I might even be convinced to award you an entire three points for it. The most commonly used potion to transform oneself is polyjuice, and it works only with the genetic material of a full-blooded human. I daren't think of what might happen to someone such as the headmaster or myself were we to take a dose of it that had one of Hagrid's hairs in it, or even your own for that matter…" he mused, and he idly rubbed his thumb across his lower lip in thought.
Albus was less amused, "Miss Greyback I hate to ask you yet again to keep another confidence, but I am afraid I must ask you to keep what you know of Mr Hagrid's parentage to yourself. He is a very kind and gentle man, but people can be terribly cruel with their assumptions. How did you discover it, if you don't mind me inquiring?" He asked, and even in his disapproval his eyes still twinkled with the curiosity of an academic. She shrunk back somewhat and lowered her eyes, but answered dutifully all the same "Well of course I won't tell anyone, sir. I realized right away, seeing as he doesn't smell fully human. He smelled like he was hybridized with something, like me and dad or the centaurs. A mix of things. Didn't take much to figure it out," she said, sounding ashamed of herself.
No one could call him a tender hearted man, but he quite disliked to see children punished for their innate traits and tendencies. Rather without meaning to, he found himself somewhat instinctually coming to her defense "You could no more stop using your sense of smell than any of the rest of could, Miss Greyback. It is no fault of your own that you perceive so much more sensory information than anyone else, and as a matter of fact I seem to recall that such a strength is even quite useful at times, would you not agree?" He asked gently, as he looked down at her with a raised brow. Her sense of smell had proven itself helpful indeed, to him personally.
"This does present a dilemma though. Anyone who had access to one of my hairs could easily enough have impersonated me, but Hagrid could neither have been the source of material to fuel a transformation, nor could he have been memory charmed or controlled via a spell. As Miss Greyback has pointed out, his skin and hair is highly resistant to magic. As gentle as he may be, he makes a formidable opponent when provoked," Albus conceded. Yet another mystery for them to solve. Severus was growing more than a little frustrated with how many questions they had uncovered and how few answers there were to be had in comparison.
"Where was the boy actually taken in all of this?" He thought out loud, and the headmaster winced slightly. Severus braced himself for whatever he might say next "Whoever this person is, they likely impersonated me at least one other time. Right before the start of the school term this year Minerva was quite cross with me, she seemed to be under the impression that the two of us had spent a day watching over Petunia and Vernon Dursley and that I had eventually left Harry there for them to care for. I had no recollection of this event, and things have been strained between us since," he admitted sheepishly.
Severus and Black both recoiled in shock at that "No, hang on now Albus. Do you mean to tell me that Petunia Dursley, who notoriously hated both magic and her sister, was tasked with raising her sister's magical son?" He asked incredulously, scarcely believing the words coming out of his own mouth. For Potter's sake he hoped that hadn't been the case, he couldn't imagine trusting the woman to spend an afternoon minding a kneazle let alone a human child for his precious formative years. Being anywhere near the cruel shrew certainly wasn't what his mother would have wanted for him.
"To be clear Albus, this individual impersonated you yet again to trick Minerva, and when they did so they were in possession of baby Potter. Do we have any idea how much time had elapsed since the night of their deaths before that day to make an estimate of how long they were alone with the boy?" He asked tentatively, not truly wishing to speak of such sensitive matters with the child in question present. Who knew where he had been taken or what had been done to him? It was a frightening thing to think of, in the days that followed the Dark Lord's demise there were still been plenty of death eaters on the loose out looking for bloody vengeance and to continue his work.
"Merciful Merlin, but I have no idea Severus. I pray it was a day or two at the most. It appears there are many questions I have to ask of both her and Hagrid," the old wizard confessed with a disappointed shake of his head.
On the bed, Black began to wildly hyperventilate. This apparently was too much for his nerves to take. Severus could hardly blame him, he barely tolerated the boy and he felt a pang of concern for him knowing he'd been anywhere near his wretched aunt. Andromeda Tonks, who he had rather forgotten was there, pushed past him and cast a healer's diagnostic charm on her cousin before administering a little cornflower blue vial of what was likely a calming potion. The children on either side of Black were clearly upset, and turned to him of all people with their big fearful eyes. The girl was closest to him, and she reached out to grab the sleeve of his robes. Seeking what, comfort? Few had dared to either expect or receive that from him in all of his years working as an educator of children.
Hesitantly, reluctantly, he placed his palm on the top of her curly head and patted a bit awkwardly. Her hair was softer than its appearance suggested, and from up close he could see that it was a richer brown as well. Like a cat, she leaned into the touch, apparently getting whatever it was she had needed from him. Mystified though he was, he was glad to have been able to provide the child some comfort. He'd never admit it aloud but he quite liked her, despite all the trouble she caused and the dramatics that followed her.
On the other side of the bed, the Potter boy was holding Black's hand between both of his smaller ones. He whispered to the man that he'd only been with the Dursleys for a little while, that he'd been rescued and given a home where he was loved and taken good care of. Severus had heard bits and pieces of this story before, and had seen it in the girl's mind when he'd accidentally delved too deep with legilimency. Ultimately this was less interesting than the mystery they'd uncovered, and he stopped listening and let his thoughts wander.
After a while, things began to settle as Black calmed down and returned to looking like a propped-up corpse. From the back of the room near where Lupin had sat, the enormously burly man that had been silent until now came forward and stood at the other side of the bed near his son. There were a few days worth of scruff accumulated on his chin, his long mousy brown hair was tied back at the base of his neck, and he wore coarse muggle denims and a plaid work shirt.More than anything else he looked like the type of salt-of-the-earth men that Tobias Snape had spent all of his days working and drinking with. Only the hint of a wand holster on the inside of the man's wrist drew Severus out of the memories of muggle men who looked and dressed and walked like him, and how terribly cruel they could be to awkward flouncy goth teenagers.
After a brief introduction by the children, Black's tremulous voice cut through the room like a dagger "And just how did Harry come to be your son?" He asked, if not exactly accusingly then dancing the razor's edge of it.
When he spoke his voice was a grating rumble, deeper even than he'd been expecting. The werewolf answered on autopilot, not even pausing to think over his response "My girl found him of course. She was far too clever for me to keep up with, so one of my muggleborn sons started taking her to a library he remembered from when he lived with his mother. They would go together regularly, and after a few weeks she started coming home with stories about a sweet boy she'd made friends with. He was small and he was lonely and he sounded like he was absolutely miserable at home with his relatives. I've taken in my fair share of lost boys before, ones that would have ended up on the streets otherwise. So I agreed to go and meet her little friend, and he came home with us that very day. There was no coercion or ulterior motive. I saw a boy my daughter loved that needed a better home than the one he had, and so I decided to give it to him. After he'd had a while to adjust to life in our pack he decided he wanted to be part of our family and part of our pack. I adopted him and my daughter bit him, and now here we are, one big-" he was interrupted by a strangled noise coming from the man in the bed.
"Do you mean to tell me you've turned my godson into a werewolf?" Black demanded, his voice as coldly furious as it was weak. "How could you do that to a child?" He asked, and he sounded perilously close to tears. Severus might have detested the man, but he certainly didn't want to be at his bedside while the man cried. That would be altogether far too intimate a thing to endure.
His eyes glazed over and he stopped listening as they explained to Black just how special they were. He'd heard something to this effect several times before already, and although it had been interesting to learn about the first time, ultimately he felt a bit as if they were beating a dead horse at this point. They weren't normal werewolves, they respected their wolves, they could shift whenever they wanted. Something about the moon. All very fascinating stuff, he supposed, but not exactly relevant to the reason they had gathered. He wished they would hurry it up and summarize more concisely.
By the time they'd finished Black looked intrigued rather than angry and suspicious, so they must have won him over at some point. More power to them. It would be impolite and impolitic to say it aloud but he really couldn't understate how little he cared about their werewolf shenanigans. He was here because the girl had been kind to him and the headmaster had ordered him to follow. And as Albus was all too well aware and often tested, all he had to do was tell him to jump and Severus pulled out a ruddy trampoline.
"I'm glad he's had someone to take care of him and love him when I wasn't able to," Black said sheepishly and with surprising maturity, he sniffled loudly as he ran his sleeve under his nose rather conspicuously. He had long since lost any remaining patience he had for this, and he was about to ask the headmaster if he might be allowed to excuse himself when Lupin made his presence known again. The man cleared his throat awkwardly and all their eyes turned to him. He stood at the end of the bed, muscles tight and twitching as he clutched the footboard, his claws sunk into the tufted velvet and there was stuffing poking out through the tears in the cloth. His eyes were set on Black where he lay, and he looked hungry and desperate. Their sustained eye contact was starting to make him profoundly ill at ease, and he had a sinking suspicion of what was soon to come.
"I only have one question for you Sirius, but I have to know it - there's no place for us to go forward from here until I know. If you hadn't thought Harry was dead… would you still have left him behind with Hagrid to go after Peter that night?" He asked, and Severus nearly groaned with how luridly sordid he managed to make such a question sound, packing in meaning and feelings that needn't have been there. It was obscene. He had done more than his fair share of pathetic yearning, but at least he'd had the good sense Merlin gave a toad to do it privately. He wanted to know absolutely nothing whatsoever about their tawdry love and romance, and with a look of disgust and a hearty scoff he promptly twisted and apparated away home.