Chapter 1: The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
Chapter Text
Chapter 1:
The Noble and Most Ancient
House of Black
Sirius Black lived at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, and his family was perfectly respectable, thank you very much. His mother, Walburga Black, was descended from a long line of Blacks and Crabbes, and his father, Orion Black, from a long line of Blacks and MacMillans.
Walburga and Orion had ensured that Sirius and his brother Regulus were raised with every privilege: they each had a private tutor until the age of ten, learning reading, writing, mathematics, history, philosophy, potions, herbology, and broomsmanship. Their tutor, Fingold Scrimgeour, was a severe sort of man, and neither Sirius nor Regulus dared to cross him. This was a much more significant feat for Sirius than his little brother, for while Regulus was compliant, dutiful, and disciplined, Sirius was rebellious, independent, and passionate. His mother often lamented his rebelliousness, and reminded him often that, as the eldest descendent of the Noble and Most Ancient and House of Black, he was responsible for carrying forth its legacy.
Under Scrimgeour’s watchful eye, Sirius had quickly advanced through his basic education, and by the age of ten was already brewing potions at the level of a third-year at Hogwarts, had a basic grasp of the leading wizard philosophers of history, was able to understand and solve basic calculus, and had successfully raised a brood of mandrakes to maturity in the family’s greenhouse on the grounds behind the townhouse. He and his brother were fluent in French and passable in Russian and Gobbledegook, the three diplomatic foreign languages of the wizarding world.
Sirius had shown magical talent exceptionally early, having levitated the family cat and pelted it down the hall after it hissed at him for pulling its tail at the age of fifteen months, and Regulus had likewise shown magical promise by the age of 3 when, after 5-year-old Sirius had fed him owl droppings and called them chocolate balls, the rest of the owl droppings in his hand had pelted Sirius in the face until he ran, crying, to his nanny, the house-elf Tipsy.
In all, Walburga and Orion felt confident that they had raised their sons to the standard expected by the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, and when a standard post owl dropped Sirius’s letter from Hogwarts on the polished dining room table one morning, they were not surprised in the slightest.
It was a fine autumn day in London, and Sirius and Regulus were playing pick-up Quidditch in the backyard on their brooms. Regulus had just gotten his first-ever real broom for his 9th birthday six weeks’ prior, a Silver Arrow like his brother’s, and he and Sirius had taken to passing the late afternoons after Scrimgeour’s departure taking turns playing Keeper and Chaser in the backyard. Orion Black had put more charms on the house and grounds than any magical place save maybe Hogwarts, which meant that, despite Grimmauld Place’s location in the heart of London, the boys were free to soar on their brooms in the backyard and practice magic to their hearts’ content without fear of prying Muggle eyes.
That was how Orion and Walburga liked it; no visitors from odd and curious Muggles hanging on the bell during tea, no having to hide their nature in their own backyard, and, frankly, no need to interact with non-Magical people at all. That was about to change, of course, with Sirius’s acceptance into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite being what, in the Blacks’ opinion, was the best school for magic in the entire world, the school admitted Muggle-borns and Half-bloods, a practice which earned Walburga’s severe disapproval. However, if all went well, this would only impact their family in the smallest of ways; they had instilled in their sons the importance of only fraternizing with the right sort.
The only crack in the glass of the Blacks’ perfect mirrors in their sons was the fact that their eldest, Sirius, was – well – a bit different. Although he inherited the Black family regal, patrician good looks, he had none of the subtlety or good sense of his progenitors. He always laughed a bit too loudly at the wrong jokes, delighted in antagonizing family members, and, despite being formed with the best wizarding pre-education, showed an unpleasant interest in Muggles and their inventions, which the Blacks scorned. Walburga maintained that he reminded her of her brother Alphard, the rebel of her family, and feared that Sirius would turn out much the same. Such a possibility might have been tolerated with Alphard, who was a middle child, but was quite unacceptable for an eldest child and heir, two times over, of the House of Black name and fortune.
Therefore, Walburga was determined to squeeze the rebellion out of him, and she made sure that she was always extra scrutinizing of his schoolwork, criticizing of his tone and posture at the dinner table, and put particular effort into curating his extracurricular activities. However, it seemed that the more she pushed Sirius, the more rebellious he became. Indeed, Walburga felt that almost every time she spoke with him now, they were in some disagreement, and while she regretted that he was no longer a small child who obediently trotted behind her, she knew that it was her duty to properly prepare the boy for his academic career in the Slytherin House at Hogwarts.
Slytherin, of course, was the only serious house at Hogwarts. The others were, frankly, little more than a joke in Walburga’s opinion: admitting Muggle-borns and preaching a ridiculous ideology of the importance of acceptance and inclusion of a clearly inferior species. The idea of her Sirius, adept for years at the basic philosophy and practice of magic, sharing a class with a student who had never even heard of magic until two weeks prior, was more than laughable; it was, frankly enraging.
Rather than being proud of her children’s advancement, Walburga found it a sign of a flailing and decaying education system that her sons would be sharing academic space with such remedial learners. Slytherin, on the other hand, curated its admissions. Pure-bloods congregated there, talent was concentrated. Teen wizards mixed and courted with other similarly-endowed families, and the integrity of magical blood was preserved. Both Walburga and Orion had met as classmates in the Slytherin House, as had nearly every ancestor in their highly respected bloodline.
Still, there was a persistent discomfort in the back of Walburga’s mind. Sirius’s differences had seemed innocent in early age, but now, on the precipice of such a significant life change as one’s first year at Hogwarts, his rebellion was raising alarm. At every opportunity she made sure to speak about the superiority of Slytherin, his responsibility to his ancestors to join the House, and the support he would have in the House with the presence of his first cousins, Narcissa and Andromeda. Sirius had responded with his typical snark, rolling his eyes at Narcissa’s name, and saying that Andromeda was the only one he’d want to exchange two words with. She was sure Sirius was just saying that to annoy her, because she had expressed on several occasions her opinion that Andromeda, while a Slytherin, was definitely off – every family had an oddball, Walburga was convinced, and Andromeda fit the bill.
Tomorrow, she decided, everything had to be perfect. It was one of the most important days of Sirius’s life so far: Wand Day. Tomorrow, he would be chosen by his wand, buy his first-year books, get fitted for his robes, and receive his first school pet (an owl, of course). He would really have two pets, Walburga thought wryly, for she had already arranged for Tipsy to follow Sirius to Hogwarts by lending her to the Hogwarts kitchen. She could keep an eye on him and report back to Walburga, as House-Elves were able to Apparate and Disapparate inside of Hogwarts. Their household elf, Kreacher, would be enough for her to manage at Grimmauld Place. She hadn’t told Sirius yet, of course. She had a feeling he wouldn’t like it.
As though summoned by her thoughts, Kreacher stepped into the room and informed her that dinner was ready in ten minutes. She thanked him – really, she didn’t know how anyone got on without a House-Elf. He and his future progeny by Tipsy, just like everything else in this house, would belong to Sirius one day. The sign of any respectable wizarding family was the presence of at least one House-Elf. She was providing so much to Sirius that even Regulus would not enjoy. He had no idea of the privilege that she had provided for him. But one day, she knew, he would understand. He would instill the same duty to family in his children that she was striving to instill in him.
She watched as he deliberately let Regulus score against him as Keeper. He really ought not do that, she thought. How was Regulus supposed to get better if he didn’t have a realistic expectation of the challenges the world would bring? Sirius was always too soft. She had coddled him too much as a small child, an error that she had strived to compensate for ever since. Walburga rang the cruel-sounding gong that she preferred for the enforcement of routine. “Sirius. Regulus,” she said firmly through a magically magnified voice. “Come in for dinner. You are expected bathed and dressed at the table in ten minutes.”
* * *
Sirius sat at the table, back straight, short hair parted precisely and combed smartly to one side. Tipsy had given him a quick trim before dinner, fretting over the visit to Diagon Alley the next day. Sirius had assured her not to worry, but Tipsy was less concerned about what Sirius thought and more about his mother’s opinion. He watched her eyes flick fearfully to his mother from time to time, who sat stonily at the table’s head. At the other end, his father’s chair was empty. Sirius supposed that he was working late again.
Regulus sat across from him, hair parted smartly in exactly the same way. He was still flushed from their Quidditch match. He had been getting much better, Sirius thought, even in the last month since he got a broom of his own. He had been talking about how he was going to play for Puddlemere United since he was six. When he was eight, Sirius caught him trying to sneak Sirius’s broom out of the shed. Sirius approved of this, and after that he often conveniently forgot to lock the shed after he was done flying.
Since Regulus had gotten his own broom, he practiced with every spare minute he could find. Sirius suspected that he wanted to be Seeker, as Regulus had recently taken to tossing tennis balls from his broom and diving for them. They had practiced today, flying a hundred feet up, London sprawling beneath them, and Sirius tossed a mandarin orange in his pocket for Regulus to catch.
Kreacher ladled some soup in Sirius’s first-course bowl at his place, shooting him a dirty look. Sirius and Kreacher had long despised one another. Kreacher took every opportunity to repeat to Sirius his mother’s criticisms of him, seeming to find it his duty to ensure that her every critical comment ruined the mood of his entire day. Today, Sirius was sure that Kreacher would lecture him about being ten minutes late to dinner. But honestly, he thought to himself, returning Kreacher’s dirty look, who could shower, dress, and get a haircut in fewer than twenty minutes?
“You never know whom you are going to meet on your Wand Day,” his mother was lecturing him. “As I’m sure you are aware from your lessons with Mr. Scrimgeour, the late wizard philosopher Garamond the Gesticulating contended that those with whom you speak on your Wand Day forge a special and lifelong bond with you. Therefore, you must be especially careful to represent the Black family well to everyone you meet tomorrow. Sirius, are you listening?”
“Sorry, mother,” Sirius said quickly, looking up guiltily. He had just dusted some crumbs from his place onto the floor in retaliation against Kreacher, who shot Sirius a poisonous look, then bent over to clean it up.
“I’ve assigned your cousin Narcissa to accompany us tomorrow, to coach you throughout the day.”
“Narcissa?” Sirius repeated, disgusted. While better than her sister, Bellatrix, Narcissa was still terrible. Sirius found her to be reserved, arrogant and narcissistic. It was easier to talk to just about anyone. “Can’t I go with Dromeda?”
“Narcissa is an excellent example for you, Sirius,” said his mother severely. “Most likely to carry on the Black family lineage of the three, if you ask me.” She sniffed. “Anyway, we will be walking, not taking the Floo Network. We don’t want to show up to Diagon Alley covered in ash.”
Just then, a barn owl swooped through the window and dropped a letter on her plate. She stared at it, then procured a small knife from her robes and cut it open. As she read, her expression became more and more dangerous. She set it on the table with a clatter.
“What is it, Mother?” asked Regulus concernedly.
“It’s from the Ministry,” she said shortly, her lip curling. “Apparently your father’s shielding charms on the house only extend up fifty feet into the air. You were spotted on your brooms.”
Sirius and Regulus exchanged an alarmed look.
“They say that you must cease and desist all broom flying. And for what?! So the useless Muggles next door can’t see, I suppose. This is our own property! Our own backyard!”
“Rubbish!” Regulus burst out, while Sirius said “Bollocks!” at the same time.
Regulus glared at the letter. “I just got my broom! I need to practice!”
“It says,” she continued, picking the letter back up, hands trembling with rage, “that if you’re caught again, it could jeopardize your standing with Hogwarts.” She crumpled it and threw it onto the table. “Weasley has something to do with this.”
“I don’t understand, Mother,” said Regulus furiously. “Why must we hide who we are? Who cares if the dumb Muggles know about us. What are we so afraid of?”
“I am certainly not afraid,” she growled. “I’d like to see the Muggles try and stop us.”
“I’m just going to keep flying, then,” Regulus said defiantly, crossing his arms.
“Regulus, we cannot jeopardize your standing with Hogwarts, especially because you have not been admitted yet.” Walburga said, visibly straining to be patient. She regarded Regulus’s indignant countenance with sympathy.
“But I must practice Quidditch!” Regulus yelled desperately. “I want to try out for the Slytherin team my first year at Hogwarts! I want to be the youngest Seeker in eighty years!”
Walburga seemed to be thinking carefully, watching her son’s earnest face with something like respect. “You can practice in the country,” she said finally. “I’ll have Kreacher accompany you to Aunt Druella and Uncle Cygnus’s manor for practice. You can take the Floo Network. I’m sure they would let you practice there. Let’s ask them tomorrow.”
“Just on weekends? Can’t I go during the week?” Regulus protested.
“If you finish your work for Scrimgeour, and if your aunt and uncle agree, then you may go on weeknights. But you must be home before dinner!”
“I never got to go practice Quidditch at Uncle Cygnus’s estate!” Sirius interjected indignantly.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You have played Quidditch there dozens of times,” Walburga said shortly.
“Yeah, but I didn’t get to play every day!”
“You played in our backyard nearly every day. Come now, Sirius, you know you despise Bella. Would you really have gone?”
Sirius hesitated. He didn’t want to admit it, but his mother had a point. His older cousin Bellatrix was a powerful dark witch who delighted in bringing terror and torment to those smaller and weaker than she.
“What about Regulus?” Sirius pressed. “Do you really think it’s a good idea to send him to Bella’s house alone? Don’t you remember what she tried to do to him?”
“That was a long time ago, Sirius,” Walburga said sharply. She took a sip of wine. “Anyway, Bella does not live at the estate anymore. She graduated from Hogwarts in June and has her own flat in London.”
“What did she move here for?” Sirius said in disgust.
“She’s been doing some interesting research in Knockturn Alley and wanted to live nearby. She has many friends from Hogwarts in London. Powerful, too. You know, the Ministry came knocking at Uncle Cygnus’s place with the wildest accusations about Bellatrix. Something about hexing a Mudblood.” Walburga smirked. “But Bellatrix has made powerful and well-placed friends at Hogwarts who helped the whole affair get dismissed. Nevertheless,” Walburga sighed, stabbing her salad, “Cygnus and Druella thought it best for Bellatrix to set out on her own now that she’s graduated. That blood traitor Septimus Weasley has been stepping up raids lately, and you know the Ministry would love to get their grimy little hands on their priceless artefacts. They mustn’t give them the slightest justification to invade the estate.”
Sirius glanced towards the door to the drawing room where the massive, 13th century tapestry depicting the Black family tree hung. His mother had explained to him, on as many occasions as possible, not just the heritage of each member on the tree, but the former inhabitants of the small, charred holes scattered throughout the tree, where members of the family had been burned off. Sirius’s grandfather had blasted his own cousin Cedrella Black off the tree for marrying Septimus Weasley, a blood traitor. Sirius’s mother was sure that Weasley held a deep grudge against the Black family for this and was convinced that he had made it his mission to destroy them, namely through Ministry investigations, threats of raids, and formal reprimands for supposedly minor violations, like being spotted riding a broom over London.
His mother was still talking. “- Ministry’s going to the dogs, blood traitors everywhere, don’t know why we have to cringe and bow to appease dirty Muggles…” She was getting into stride. When she got like this, Sirius knew she could go for hours.
“Mother, I’ve just remembered something for Diagon Alley tomorrow,” Sirius said, pushing back his chair. Now fully into her rant, she scarcely noticed him stand and slip out of the dining room and climb up the stairs.
He slipped into his bedroom and shut the door, savoring the silence. He looked around the room. The walls were decorated with posters of Slytherin House, and a copy of the Black family tree was framed by the door.
Sirius threw himself onto his bed, hands behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. He wondered if Garamond the Gesticulating was correct about the importance of the people you meet on Wand Day. His stomach did a small somersault. All summer he had looked forward to the start of the fall, when he would take the fabled Hogwarts Express to Hogwarts, a wizarding boarding school full of mystery, adventure, and excitement. Now that it was so near, he felt excited but very nervous. A year seemed like a long time to be away from home. He wondered if he would make friends. He already knew several of the people who would be starting with him, his mother had seen to that. But he wasn’t particularly close with any of them. That shouldn’t matter, of course; Hogwarts was a place to build connections with well-placed and powerful families, connections that would benefit you the rest of your life. His father had instilled in him that family, not friendships, last for a lifetime, and school was a place to study and network, no more.
Still, Sirius couldn’t help hoping that he would make friends. Real friends. People he liked, maybe even people he could trust.
Sirius Black rolled over in his Slytherin-adorned room, lost in his thoughts for a long time, until he finally fell asleep.
Chapter Text
Chapter 2
Wand Day
The next morning, Tipsy shook Sirius gently at eight o’clock. He ignored her. She returned several minutes later, and then again even later. It wasn’t until his mother’s magically magnified voice boomed through the house that Sirius finally awoke.
“SIRIUS BLACK III, IF YOU ARE NOT DOWNSTAIRS IN TEN MINUTES, YOU WILL NOT RECEIVE YOUR WAND TODAY.”
Sirius leapt up as though he had been shocked. He showered and then dressed so quickly that his robes became soaked through, thundered down the stairs and grabbed a piece of fruit, and skidded to a halt in front of the front door. His mother glared at him. She, his father, and Regulus were standing by the door in pressed robes, ready to go.
“TOTALLY inconsiderate,” she snapped. “Your brother has been ready for twenty minutes. Tipsy will be hearing about this.”
“It’s not Tipsy’s fault, mother –”
“No, it’s yours. But I can’t very well whip you, can I? You need to be presentable on your first day at Hogwarts.”
Sirius opened his mouth then shut it again, glaring at her. When his mother got this way, it was better not to argue, he had learned.
Sirius mother pulled open the door, and they stepped into the front yard. It was a warm and humid day already. “Hang on,” said Sirius. “I’ve forgotten something.”
Ignoring his mother’s fierce glare, Sirius ducked back inside. “Tipsy!” he called once the door had shut. Tipsy appeared in front of him with a crack.
“How may I be of service, Master Sirius?” Tipsy squeaked.
“Tipsy, when you see us coming back, I’d like you to go on an errand for me.”
Tipsy curtsied. “Yes, Master Sirius, and what errand is that, sir?”
“I don’t really care. Go and collect flowers for the table or something. But don’t come back until after everyone’s gone to bed. Mother is in a mood.”
“Yes, Master Sirius,” said Tipsy, eyes growing wide. “Thank you, Master Sirius.”
Sirius ducked back outside. “Got it,” he mumbled. He saw his parents exchange a look.
“Well, if you’re quite ready,” his mother snapped.
The family set off without a word, his father waving his wand this way and that as they progressed to the front gate. Sirius knew that he was disarming the many security protections he had placed around the house. They stepped out onto the street. People seemed to be staring at them, but his mother and father seemed not to notice, pressing forward with an air of unflappable importance. He glanced at Regulus to make a joke, but Regulus kept looking straight ahead, just as their parents had told him to.
Now that they were on their way to Diagon Alley, the excitement started to set in. Until now, going to Hogwarts had seemed far away. He wasn’t sure what to expect at Hogwarts, but he hoped it would be better than here, where his mother’s cruel comments seemed to follow him wherever he went. But Sirius wasn’t too optimistic. He knew full well that his parents, grandparents, and all his aunts, uncles, and cousins had been Sorted into Slytherin. He would almost certainly follow in their footsteps – the way they spoke about it, Sirius expected that the Sorting Hat might automatically sort pure-blood families into Slytherin – and, from what he had seen of his family’s friends, Slytherin House was likely to just be an extension of life at Grimmauld Place.
Nevertheless, Sirius couldn’t help but be excited when they approached the dingy entrance of the Leaky Cauldron. Sirius’s mother turned to him. “Straighten your hair, Sirius,” she snapped. “Did you even comb it today? I might have thought Tipsy would have had the sense to use potion on your hair.” Sirius reached in his pocket and found that Tipsy had put a comb inside. His mother made him carry it everywhere. Sirius took it out and carefully combed his hair to the side.
When they walked into the Leaky Cauldron, several heads turned. Sirius was used to this; he had accompanied his mother to Diagon Alley many times before, usually to collect Potions ingredients, and on a few occasions had gone with her to Knockturn Alley. Everyone seemed to know who the Black family was, and people usually understood the deference they were expected to show them.
“Walburga, lovely to see you,” said a handsome young man Sirius recognized to be Tom the Innkeeper. He bowed low before her, and she lifted her chin regally.
“Tom, always a pleasure,” she replied.
“Tom,” said Sirius’s father, extending a hand to him. Tom took it with a smile, which quickly melted from his face at the fierce stare Sirius’s father gave him. They shook, and when they let go Tom’s hand twitched, and Sirius noticed that his fingertips had turned white as though his hand had been squeezed very hard.
“Will you be joining us for a meal today?” Tom asked with renewed formality.
“Not today,” Sirius’s father replied severely. “My son here is getting his wand today. He starts at Hogwarts this fall.”
“A delightful occasion, you must be quite proud.”
Sirius’s father cast a look in Sirius’s direction, who glanced at him hopefully. “We shall see if he makes me proud,” he responded. “Come, Sirius. Regulus.” And without another word, Sirius’s father strode through the back of the restaurant and tapped the brick in the alley behind it. Sirius and Regulus trotted dutifully after him.
“There you are, Walburga,” came a voice immediately as they stepped into Diagon Alley. Sirius’s Aunt Druella was standing with her hands on her hips. Next to her, his Uncle Cygnus stood with Sirius’s three cousins.
“Sorry to run late,” his mother said with a dirty look at Sirius. “The chain is only as strong as its weakest link.”
Sirius rolled his eyes. His cousin Andromeda caught his eye and raised her eyebrows in mock judgment. Sirius grinned at her.
“May I go now, Mother?” Sirius’s eldest cousin, Bellatrix, whined impatiently, looking contemptuously at Sirius from under her heavily lidded eyes. A jolt of fear flared in Sirius’s stomach despite himself. Sirius’s earliest and worst memories involved Bellatrix. Every time she visited, she had tormented Sirius and Regulus. Once, when Sirius was six, 15-year-old Bellatrix had tortured his pet rat, Whiskers, right in front of him and laughed as he screamed. The following year, she had placed five-year-old Regulus under the Imperius Curse and tried to make him jump out of the third story window. Without knowing how he had done it, Sirius had magically lifted her off the ground and slammed her cleanly through the wall, across the hallway, and through the wall into the next room. He had broken the curse just in time, as Regulus had opened the window and had just wriggled out of Sirius’s arms. Their mother was furious when she found out, and after that Bellatrix had been forbidden from visiting Grimmauld Place. After the cousins had gone that day, his mother hugged Sirius very hard and said that she was proud of him. It was the only time she had done or said anything like that, and it made Sirius feel happy every time he remembered.
Bellatrix had just graduated from Hogwarts the previous year. The only reason she was waiting for them in Diagon Alley, Sirius suspected, was because her parents had asked her to be; as the eldest of three daughters, Bellatrix stood to inherit her parents’ fortune. His aunt and uncle had a habit of frequently reminding her of this. Sirius suspected that Bellatrix resented him for receiving the greater share of the House of Black fortune. Perhaps that was why she had tormented him, although Sirius suspected that she didn’t need much of a reason to. She seemed to enjoy it.
He was relieved when his aunt and uncle dismissed Bellatrix, leaving him with Andromeda, his favorite cousin, and her younger sister Narcissa, who would be accompanying him today. Andromeda sidled over to him. “Everything copacetic?” she asked with a wink.
“Better now,” mumbled Sirius, looking after Bellatrix’s mess of curly black hair receding down the street.
“I’ve told father that we should all stick together,” Andromeda said, tossing back her brown hair. She dropped her voice. “Thought you might enjoy that more than a day with her ladyship.” She rolled her eyes at Narcissa, who stood facing the adults, poised and attentive.
“You’re a lifesaver,” said Sirius, relieved.
“Thought we could all stay together,” Uncle Cygnus was saying on cue. “And I’ve invited Alphard. I know he wouldn’t want to miss it.”
“Really, Cyg,” Sirius’s mother replied. “Was that necessary?”
“You know he dotes on the boy,” Uncle Cygnus said with a glance at Sirius. “He’ll meet us at the wand shop at ten. Wants to be there for the big moment.”
“Well, let’s get going then, shall we?” said Aunt Druella, withdrawing a pocket watch and studying it. “We’ve only got ten minutes to get there.”
They set off down Diagon Alley, their large group attracting glances, some curious, some fearful. Every now and then the Blacks would stop to greet someone they knew. Andromeda helpfully hissed names in Sirius’s ear: “That’s McLaggen, head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office, mother’s always going on about how helpful he’s been… Greengrass, he’s well-placed in magical law enforcement… and that of course is Selwyn, he works closely with the Minister for Magic…”
By the time they arrived at Ollivander’s, the day was warming considerably. Uncle Cygnus had a sheen of sweat on his brow. Waiting next to him was Sirius’s favorite uncle, Uncle Alphard, whom Sirius called Uncle Alphie. Uncle Alphie was tall and thin, with high cheekbones and thick shining dark hair which he combed to one side. Like his brother, Uncle Cygnus, and his sister, Sirius’s mother, Uncle Alphie was decidedly good-looking, although unlike his brother and sister, he had never married.
“Sirius, my boy, look at you!” Uncle Alphie boomed jovially as they approached. “You’re a real young man! Where did the little boy go who was always stealing my wand from my pocket to explode slugs in the backyard?”
Sirius grinned. “Hi, Uncle Alphie.”
“Well, let’s get going then, we mustn’t keep Mr. Ollivander waiting,” said Sirius’s mother testily.
The shop was silent, and they instinctively stopped talking when they entered. The sound seemed curiously muffled, perhaps by the thick sheen of dust that seemed to lay on the rows of quiet shelves. Mr. Ollivander stepped out, and Sirius felt unexpectedly nervous. “Ah, yes, young Master Black. Here at last,” he said, with a glance at the crowd that had accompanied him. “Of course, I have provided wands for all of your family present here,” he added, eyes searching the room. “And soon, young man, it will be your turn,” he said to Regulus, who fidgeted nervously.
“Well then, let’s get started. Let’s try yew, 10 inches, unicorn hair, pliable, just give it a wave then.”
Sirius took the wand and gave it a little wave. Nothing happened.
“Hm, yes, of course not. Let’s try hazel, 12 inches, dragon heartstring, rigid…”
But this, like the last, did nothing. Sirius took one wand after the next, and after he had gone through ten different wands, he cast a nervous look at Andromeda, who grinned and gave him a double thumbs-up.
“Ah! I know just the thing,” Ollivander said excitedly, walking back several shelves and pulling the ladder to him. “Yes, let’s try this. Reed, phoenix feather, thirteen inches, not too pliable nor too rigid…”
Sirius waved the wand and, to his immense relief, scarlet and gold sparks shot out of it. Behind him, his family erupted into applause. He grinned over his shoulder at Andromeda before he was clapped into a hug by Uncle Alphie.
“Well done, dear boy,” said Uncle Alphie proudly.
Mr. Ollivander nodded in satisfaction. “Quite a powerful wand, young Master Black, adaptable for use in all kind of magic, particularly useful for Transfiguration and Curses and Counter-curses.” He turned to Sirius’s parents. “You ought to be very proud.”
“There is no doubt that he has the benefit of the strength of his family blood,” replied Sirius’s father.
“Come, Sirius,” said his mother. “Let’s get you fitted into your school robes.”
The family agreed to reconvene at the Leaky Cauldron at lunchtime. Andromeda wanted to check out Quality Quidditch Supplies, and Narcissa said something about finding Bella in Knockturn Alley. The rest of the adults departed together, except for Sirius’s mother, who grabbed Sirius’s arm.
“You have done well with your wand,” she said severely, “but I know you. This is going to go straight to your head. A wand is only as good as the wizard, and if you do not apply yourself to your schooling –”
“I know, mother,” Sirius said dully. He had heard this lecture a hundred times.
“In Slytherin you will at least be surrounded by ambition,” she said coldly. “Even if you lack it yourself.”
When they arrived at Madam Malkin’s, Sirius was relieved when Madam Malkin asked his mother to wait outside. He sat in the chair as she bustled and took his measurements, and when she walked to the back to get more cloth, the door jangled again. Two children about his age walked in together. One was a very pretty girl about his age with long, dark red hair, and the other was a sallow-skinned boy with chin-length hair that looked like it hadn’t been washed in several weeks. They seemed to know each other and were deep in conversation.
“First years at Hogwarts too, then?” Sirius asked by way of greeting.
They looked at him. The red-headed girl seemed to be nervous. The sallow-skinned boy’s eyes roved over Sirius face and hardened into hostility. “Yes, we’re both starting at Hogwarts,” said the boy tightly.
“Sirius Black,” he said, extending his hand to the pretty girl and flashing her a smile.
“Lily Evans,” she replied, walking over and taking it.
“And I’m Severus Snape,” said the boy, a little too loudly. When they shook hands, Severus Snape stared into his eyes. Sirius was reminded of dark pools. Severus’s lip curled into a sneer.
“Don’t think I’ve heard of the Snapes,” Sirius replied cooly.
A slight tinge of pink marked Snape’s cheeks. “My mother is Eileen Prince,” he said, his eyes flicking to the window. A sallow-faced woman was speaking with Sirius’s mother.
“Oh, yeah. I think I’m related to some Princes. Second cousin twice removed or something like that,” Sirius said airily. He glanced at Lily Evans, expecting her to be impressed, but was surprised to see that she looked distinctly uncomfortable.
Seeing his gaze, she said with a glance at Snape, “My parents are non-magic… Muggles.”
“Really?” Sirius said, eyebrows raising in surprise.
“You have a problem with that?” said Snape aggressively.
“What? No!” Sirius lied. “I’m just a little surprised. How did you… I mean, how did you find Diagon Alley, even?”
“Severus showed us,” Lily said, with a grateful smile at the boy.
“Us?” Sirius repeated. “Your parents surely aren’t here… are they?”
“Of course they are!” said Lily indignantly.
Sirius looked swiftly out the window and his heart sank as he saw that his mother was now speaking with two people in Muggle clothing standing next to Eileen Prince. She was wearing a familiar expression of cold rage, and though the window muffled the sound, he could tell that she was shouting.
“Look, they probably shouldn’t be… sorry, it’s my mother. Excuse me a moment.” Sirius jumped up and raced outside.
“Blood traitor,” his mother was saying. Her wand was out. Eileen Prince pulled out her wand, too, but seemed frightened.
“Mother, Madam Malkin has a question about something,” Sirius said loudly, striding up to her. He cast what he hoped was a haughty, disinterested look at the three people standing there, but saw with a jolt that they were also accompanied by a young bony-faced girl, who looked terrified.
“What’s that?” his mother said peevishly.
“Come on inside, I didn’t quite understand what she was asking.” He grabbed her arm and steered her into the shop.
The bell jangled. “One minute!” Madam Malkin called from the back.
To Sirius’s dismay, his mother’s eyes fixed on the two children getting fitted and her eyes narrowed. “So,” she snarled. “I hear you are starting at Hogwarts this year?”
Snape and Lily looked at her, wearing identical frightened looks.
“Mother,” Sirius said quickly, wishing he had instead pulled her down the street. “I’ve just remembered, it’s a question about my shoe size.”
“You are a size twelve, you silly boy.” Her eyes were still fixed on Lily and Snape. “So. A Muggle-raised Half-Blood and a Mudblood,” she spat.
Sensing trouble, Madam Malkin seemed to materialize out of nowhere. “Madam Black,” she said angrily. “I’ve already told you, it would be best if you were to wait outside.”
“I wasn’t aware you served these types,” Sirius’s mother sneered. Sirius glanced furtively at the two children, feeling his cheeks growing red. They both looked scared and angry.
“Young Master Black, I have what I need from you,” Madam Malkin said curtly to Sirius. “I’ll have your robes ready for pickup by end of day.”
Sirius’s mother stared daggers at her for a long moment. Then, finally, she said “Come, Sirius,” and turned and stormed out the door.
Sirius looked over at Snape and Lily, hoping to say something to smooth it over, but they were both bright red and carefully avoiding his eyes, exchanging furtive glances with one another.
“Sorry about my mother,” Sirius mumbled to Madam Malkin. He scooped a handful of gold from his pocket and pressed it into her hands, following his mother out the door before she could reply.
Sirius trotted miserably next his mother, who was still raging. “Everyone knows Eileen Prince is a blood traitor! Lilith Mulciber told me the dirty Muggle she married doesn’t even allow her to do magic in the house. Raised her son as a Muggle. As a Muggle! It’s disgusting.”
Sirius too was fuming, but for an entirely different reason. If Garamond the Gesticulating was correct about meeting significant people on your Wand Day, he was quite sure that his mother had just earned him two new enemies. Sirius felt confident that, if this continued, he would have no friends at all at Hogwarts. Incensed, he didn’t speak another word to his mother until they reached Flourish and Blotts, and as soon as they entered, he broke away from her to browse books on the opposite end of the store.
A plump mousy-haired boy with a pointed nose and small, watery eyes was feverishly scanning the shelves next to him. “Mummy, I can’t find the Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1!” he called halfway across the store.
“They’re right at the front when you come in,” said a rather-ill looking boy kindly to him.
“Were they? I didn’t see…” the plump boy hurried off to the front of the store.
“You’re a first year, too, then?” Sirius said casually to the ill-looking boy.
“Yeah, I am,” said the boy, becoming shy all of a sudden.
“What’re you looking at, there?” he leaned over to see the book in his hand. The boy quickly tucked it under his arm, but not before Sirius had seen the cover. “Dark Creatures and Their Allies? That’s not on our book list, is it?”
“No, I – I’m getting it for my dad.”
“Is your dad into the Dark Arts?” Sirius asked curiously.
The boy looked shocked. “What? No, of course not. He’s sort of a… dark creature expert. Consults with the Ministry, mostly on boggarts. I was looking to see if they were in here.”
“Oh! Well, are they?”
“Uh, I don’t think so,” he said, putting the book back on the shelf. “So, what about you?” he cocked an eyebrow. “Your dad into the Dark Arts?”
Sirius saw a wry smile playing about his mouth.
“Sorry, that was a bad question, wasn’t it?” Sirius grinned apologetically.
“Little bit,” agreed the boy. “I’m Remus. Remus Lupin.”
“Sirius Black,” he said, shaking his hand.
“Look, I have to run, my mum –” Remus raised his eyebrows in the direction of the window, where a cheerful looking woman was pointing excitedly at a book in her hand. “She’s a Muggle, she loves this stuff,” he said with a grin, and headed out the door.
Sirius watched him curiously as he left. He wasn’t sure he had met as many Muggle-borns and Half-Bloods in his life as he had met in the past hour. He glanced at his mother, who was directing a harassed-looking employee of the bookstore around, the staff member’s arms overflowing with books. She had always spoken so highly of their family heritage and so vehemently against Muggle blood, that it hadn’t even occurred to Sirius that there might be quite so many witches and wizards who had non-wizarding blood. Is this what Hogwarts would be like?
At lunchtime, the House of Black pulled two long tables together to seat all eight of them. After everyone had been served their water, Bellatrix and Narcissa arrived together. Bellatrix, Sirius noticed, was flushed with triumph. Andromeda, who was sitting across from Sirius, scowled at them as they came in.
“There you are, my dears,” Aunt Druella said in a dangerous tone.
“Sorry, Mother,” Narcissa said quickly. “Bella just needed to get one last thing.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that it wasn’t your fault you two were late, Cissy,” Aunt Druella replied in the same dangerous tone.
“Mother, I found it.” Bellatrix said, her face positively glowing.
“Not here,” Aunt Druella said sharply, with a glance around the Leaky Cauldron. “I’ve never seen so many blood traitors in one place in my life.”
“It’s Hogwarts day, Druella, dear,” said Uncle Alphie. “The last Saturday before term begins. You know that we get all types in Diagon Alley today.”
“If I had thought of that, I would have been sure to come on a different day,” snapped Sirius’s mother.
“Yes, mother nearly cursed two of my new classmates,” Sirius said loudly.
“You watch your tongue,” she barked. “Blood traitors! Scum! Half-bloods and Mudbloods,” she snarled. “You would have been well served if I had cursed them.”
“Appetizers?” asked a frightened-looking witch with a small notepad.
“Excellent idea,” said Uncle Alphie loudly. “Let’s see – how about some seasoned baguettes, and a round of butterbeer for the table. And pumpkin juice for these two.” He gestured at Sirius and Regulus.
“Right away, sir,” said the waitress, and hurried away.
Sirius noticed a pair of warlocks at the bar watching them, who looked away quickly when they saw Sirius staring. He glanced around. Indeed, people in general were giving them wide berth. Sirius leaned across the table to Andromeda. “Do people seem a bit… jumpy to you?” he asked under his breath.
“More than usual, you mean?” she asked wryly.
“Yeah.” When Sirius had come with his mother and Regulus, people treated them cordially, but today he was getting a stronger sense of something else – something like fear.
“I don’t know how much you’ve heard about this, Sirius,” said Andromeda, lowering her voice. “But there’s a new movement that’s been growing over the past several years. Ever since I started Hogwarts, actually, maybe even sooner. A movement to restore pure blood.” She cast a furtive look at the adults down the table and then rolled her eyes. “You know, I think the pure blood stuff is a load of rubbish. You’ll get to Hogwarts and you’ll see. Some of the most talented witches and wizards don’t have pure blood. We can’t all keep marrying our cousins.”
It was the first time Sirius had heard Andromeda say such a thing, and he cast a quick look down the table, too. “Don’t let my mother hear you saying that. She and father are second cousins.”
“I know. And they seem totally normal and stable, right?”
Sirius looked at her, taken aback. She did have a point, he supposed, looking again down the table. His mother was speaking passionately with Uncle Cygnus, gesticulating wildly in the air, while his father watched her with a combination of apprehension and distaste.
“So – this movement,” Sirius said to change the subject. “Why are people getting scared? We’ve been asking for blood purity for ages. Why now?”
“There’s a new dark wizard on the scene. A mysterious figure, no one had heard of him until a few years back, goes by Lord Voldemort. Bella won’t shut up about him. She’s convinced that he is the Chosen One to restore the magical world to its rightful place.”
Sirius watched Bellatrix and Narcissa conversing intensely in lowered voices.
“Thanks,” Andromeda said to the waitress, who handed her a frosted glass of butterbeer and Sirius a small goblet of pumpkin juice. She took a sip of her butterbeer, waited until the waitress was out of earshot, and continued.
“You know, every few years you get a Dark witch or wizard who fashions themselves the greatest of all time. I usually don’t pay it any mind. But there’s something different about this time. People are scared, you know. Bellatrix has been training with the Gringotts curse-breakers, and there have been a lot of funny – a lot of funny accidents at Gringotts, she tells me. Muggle-borns going down to their vaults and never coming back up. And the Ministry of Magic has lost track of a staff member, someone fairly high up. People are starting to get a bad feeling.”
Just then, Sirius saw Lily Evans and Severus Snape, the pale red-haired girl and the greasy-haired boy from Madam Malkins, emerge from the back door of the Leaky Cauldron. They were accompanied by who Sirius assumed was Lily’s sister and parents, as well as Snape’s mother, Eileen Prince. They appeared to scan the room. When they saw the large table of Blacks they froze, wearing identical expressions of fear. Watching Sirius’s mother fearfully, they made a wide curve around their table on the way to the front door. While Sirius had seen them, his mother had not. They turned their faces away from the table and tried to slip past them on the side of the table furthest from Sirius. Sirius’s mother, however, might see them at any moment, and Sirius was certain she would cause a scene.
“Mother,” Sirius called down the table suddenly.
Snape and Lily’s group froze. His mother, who had been just about to turn to Bellatrix, in the direction of their group, instead looked at Sirius. “I’ve been thinking about my broom,” he improvised loudly.
Snape and Lily’s group began to creep again towards the door.
“My Silver Arrow,” he continued. “Do you think there’s any chance I could smuggle it into Hogwarts my first year? It seems a shame to leave such an expensive broom in the shed in the backyard all year.”
“I’ve already told you, Sirius,” his mother said impatiently. “I’ve written to Dumbledore, but he insists that there are no exceptions to the ban on brooms for first years. You will just have to wait until your second year.”
Their group made it to the front door. Sirius watched as the door closed behind Eileen Prince, then let out a low breath. He caught his Uncle Alphie’s eye, who was watching Sirius with a shrewd expression. Sirius realized that Uncle Alphie, too, must have been able to see the group behind his mother, and Sirius hoped that he hadn’t been too obvious.
“It’s understandable,” Uncle Alphie said loudly, winking quickly at Sirius and then rearranging his expression. “Wanting to fly. An excellent flyer you are, too.”
“You always fill his head with such rubbish,” hissed Sirius’s mother. “As though he hasn’t got enough confidence as it is.”
The waitress brought their sandwiches and the table ate in relative silence.
“The Ministry wrote Mother yesterday, telling her I can’t fly my broom in the backyard anymore,” Regulus said, breaking the silence.
Sirius’s father sat upright, brow furrowing, looking from Regulus to Sirius’s mother. Sirius realized that his father hadn’t been at dinner the night before, and judging from his reaction, his mother hadn’t mentioned the Ministry letter to him.
“What? But that’s ridiculous,” said Uncle Alphie. “Why on earth not?”
“Apparently father’s protections only extend fifty feet into the air,” Regulus replied.
“Ministry regulations,” Sirius’s father interjected gruffly.
Bellatrix let out a low hissing sound.
“With Sirius out of our hair and gone to Hogwarts, I was wondering if Regulus might borrow the grounds of your manor for flying practice,” his mother said. “Kreacher can accompany him.”
“Any time, of course, Walburga,” said Uncle Cygnus.
“It will be nice to have some peace and quiet around the house,” his mother said. “And quite an improvement in the smell of the place, I’m sure.”
The table laughed.
“Mother, may Sirius and I go to Quality Quidditch Supplies?” Andromeda said loudly. “Sirius can meet Aunt Walburga at the owlery.”
“Yes, fine,” Aunt Druella said, looking annoyed.
“Thanks,” she said. “Come on, Sirius.”
Sirius jumped up.
“But you’ve already been,” said Narcissa petulantly to Andromeda.
“I want to show Sirius the new Nimbus 1000s.”
“Wicked, are they in stock?” Sirius asked ignoring the rest of them and walking quickly to the door.
Once they got back into Diagon Alley, Andromeda turned to him. “I don’t know how you can stand them,” she said immediately.
“I can’t, actually,” Sirius replied shortly. “I can’t wait to go to Hogwarts.”
“You’ll like it there. It’s a great place.” They set off to Quality Quidditch Supplies.
“Sirius,” she added after a few minutes, looking sideways at him. “All of the Houses are great. It took me awhile to appreciate. Just… keep an open mind.”
Just then, Sirius spotted the Nimbus 1000 through the display window.
“Wow, look at that!” he said, breaking into a jog to see the glistening broom. A small crowd was gathered around the window admiring it. Sirius inched through the crowd until he was right in front of the window. An older man and a dark-haired boy were standing next to him, discussing the broom appreciatively.
“State of the art… national standard broom, this is,” said the older man.
“Look at the specs on it!” said the boy next to him. “Incredible! Dad, please, please can I get it?”
“You know there are no brooms allowed for first years,” his dad, a gray-haired gentleman, replied kindly. “Besides, your old Bright Spark flies well enough, doesn’t it?”
“Of course it does, Dad, but it’s four years old! It’s starting to tilt to the right a bit. I couldn’t play Quidditch on my Bright Spark!”
“If you make the Quidditch team, I’ll consider the Nimbus,” his father conceded.
“But dad, nobody makes the Quidditch team as a first year!”
“That’s exactly the idea, James,” he said, grinning at his son’s indignant face.
“There’s a first time for everything,” Sirius said with a wink at the boy called James, who turned to him. “You like to fly?”
“Do I like to fly,” James said, his face lighting up. “It’s my favorite thing in the whole world!”
“Who’s your team?”
“Chudley Cannons, who’s yours?”
“Puddlemere United! They got five players tapped for the World Cup playoffs last year, you know.”
“I still can’t believe they cancelled the World Cup,” James said indignantly. “Dad thought we could get tickets and everything.”
“Why did they cancel, anyway?” asked Sirius, who hadn’t planned on going to the World Cup and wasn’t following the news.
“Security concerns,” said James’s dad gravely.
“You want to go inside and check out what they’ve got?” James asked Sirius brightly.
“Sure,” said Sirius, flashing a smile and following him inside. “Whoa.”
The store was piled high with every kind of broom imaginable. Leather-embossed boxes with Quidditch balls were displayed around the perimeter, along with broom maintenance kits, piles of books on Quidditch history and tactics, model broomsticks and toy broomsticks. Sirius and James browsed for a few minutes, until Andromeda tapped him on the shoulder.
“Just ran into your mother,” she said. “She’s waiting for you at the owlery.”
“Bye, then!” said James brightly.
Sirius and Andromeda jogged to the Owlery, where Sirius’s mother was waiting outside. “Why don’t you pick out your owl,” she said shortly. “I’ll go back to Madam Malkins and pick up your robes. Regulus is getting too warm, so I’ve left him at the ice cream shop with your father. We should head back soon, before this dreadful day gets any hotter.”
Sirius went into the Owlery and looked at the owls carefully. “I’d like that one,” he said to the woman behind the counter, pointing to a large eagle owl preening his feathers. He counted out gold coins and handed them over, and the woman handed the enormous cage to Sirius. Sirius looked at the owl thoughtfully. “I’ll call you Lancelot,” he said. The owl hooted approvingly.
“Come on, Sirius, let’s get some ice cream before mother comes back,” said Andromeda.
Sirius’s father and Regulus were sitting at one of the tables outside of Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour. Regulus was happily enjoying a vanilla ice cream cone while Sirius’s father read the Daily Prophet with a furrowed brow.
By the time they had paid for their ice cream, Sirius’s mother returned, in a horrible temper.
“Where’re the robes?” Sirius asked.
“I’ve sent them home with Kreacher,” she said. “It’s time to go.”
“See you then, Sirius,” said Andromeda.
“See you.”
When Sirius and his family arrived back home at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, he was pleased to see no trace of Tipsy anywhere and told his mother that he had sent her out on an errand. Sirius opted to skip dinner with the family, slipping out the front door and strolling around the block. Muggle-watching was one of Sirius’s favorite past-times, and unbeknownst to his mother he had a secret stash of Muggle clothing tucked in the back of his dresser. Once he returned from Diagon Alley he had changed into Muggle clothes under his robes and set out for a final Muggle-watching stroll. Once he got to the end of the street, he glanced around then took off his outer robes.
He would miss London, he knew, he as watched a Muggle in a red telephone booth carefully count change from his pocket. He resolved to learn how pay phones worked. Many of the Muggle inventions were as mysterious to Sirius as Hogwarts, and Sirius liked to nick small knickknacks from convenience stores and take them apart in his room. He wandered into a corner store and examined a collection of light-up keychains. He glanced quickly at the cashier, who was paying him no mind, as he was eyeing a couple of adolescent boys speaking in low tones near the back. Sirius quickly put a keychain into his pocket and sidled out the door.
At home, he clambered up the stairs and entered his room. Books, robes, and school supplies were neatly packed in a trunk by his bed. In just a few days, he would be eating supper at Hogwarts. His eyes roved over his walls: a miniature copy of the House of Black family tree on one wall, a photograph of Hogwarts headmaster Phineas Black on the other, and a flashing green and silver Slytherin banner over his bed, where it had hung since his crib was beneath it. It would be strange to leave this place, he thought wistfully.
There was a small knock at the door.
“Come in, Reg,” he said, and Regulus opened the door.
“You weren’t at dinner,” he said timidly.
“I went for a walk.”
“Mother was upset,” he said, a tone of accusation creeping into his voice. “She had Kreacher prepare a special banquet to celebrate your wand day.”
“She didn’t say anything about that.”
“She expected you to be there, didn’t she? You’re only here for three more nights. You ought to be spending time with us.”
“Three more days until I’m out of her hair, right?” Sirius said bitterly, shoving his hands in his pocket.
“You’re not still upset about that, are you?”
“Upset?” Sirius scoffed. “It doesn’t bother me at all. I feel the same way.” He looked around his darkening room. “I can’t wait to be free of this place.”
“You won’t miss any of us?” Regulus asked, hurt.
“Ah, I didn’t mean you, Reg. It’s just… this place. Mother, and father, and Kreacher. They’re always on my case. You don’t know what it’s like.”
Regulus frowned. “Mother corrects me the same as you.”
Sirius gave a bark-like laugh. “You don’t even know you’re the favorite, do you?”
“I am not,” Regulus said, turning red. “All Mother ever wants to talk about is you.”
Sirius scowled. “Look, Reg, I’ve got to take a look at some of these books we got today, all right? We can chat more later.”
“All right,” Regulus said, sounding hurt again, but Sirius ignored him. When the door clicked shut, Sirius threw himself onto his bed, scowling at the ceiling until he fell asleep.
Notes:
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Chapter 3: The Hogwarts Express
Summary:
New chapters posted every week (check in on Thursdays and Fridays)
Sirius makes his first friend and reconsiders the path that his family has marked for him. He sees his cousin in a new light. He also makes his first enemy.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 3
The Hogwarts Express
Four mornings later, the Blacks arrived at King’s Cross station at a quarter to nine. They strode through the barrier between platforms nine and ten without bothering to check to see if any Muggles were watching; Sirius’s father had cast anti-Muggle charms around the whole traveling group, including Kreacher and Tipsy, protecting them against curious Muggle eyes. Once through the barrier, Sirius’s mother and father spotted someone they knew and stopped to exchange cordial greetings, while Kreacher and Tipsy, each carrying an end of Sirius’s loaded trunk, clambered onto the train to store it for him.
Sirius turned to Regulus. “All right, Reg?” he said. They hadn’t spoken much since their argument on Wand Day, and with the flying ban in place during his final days at home, they hadn’t even played a game of pickup Quidditch.
“I’m going to miss you, Sirius,” Regulus said sadly. “Will you write?”
“I’ll miss you too, Reg,” he said, ruffling his hair. “I’ll be pelting you with owls, don’t worry.”
Sirius’s mother and father stopped speaking with their acquaintance and came over.
“You’ll want to get a good seat on the train,” his father said. “Remember, son. In everything you do, you are representing the House of Black. Keep our traditions, remain loyal to your roots. Find the right wizarding families and befriend them. And focus on your schooling. Your potential will be wasted if you give anything less than your best.”
“Yes, father.”
“I expect to hear an update on your progress,” said his mother. “An owl at least weekly. Stay out of trouble and keep to your kind. And don’t think you can sneak around the rules. I’m keeping an eye on you. Tipsy will be accompanying you to Hogwarts and will report any deviances to me immediately.”
“What?” Sirius said furiously. “No way.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t send Kreacher,” she said icily. “But I cannot afford to lose him.”
“Mother,” he said in disbelief, “do you know how my classmates will react if you have my nanny checking in on me?”
“She will be secretive,” his mother said with a sneer. “I have loaned her to the Hogwarts kitchens. She knows how to stay out of sight. But she will be my eyes and ears.”
Sirius stared furiously from his mother to his father. His father turned and said in a low voice, “Walburga, are you quite sure that’s necessary?”
“It’s necessary for this one,” she snapped. “I know what he’s like. Always sneaking out of the house, thinking he’s above the rules. Without a strong guiding hand, I will be much surprised if he isn’t expelled from Hogwarts.”
“That’s quite enough, Walburga,” said Sirius’s father shortly. “Sirius, if you don’t board the train soon, there won’t be any good seats left.”
“We’ve still got ten minutes –” began Walburga, but Sirius cut her off.
“Bye then,” he snapped, and without another word he stormed onto the Hogwarts Express, leaving his mother, father, and brother standing on the platform.
Sirius only had to go a few cars before he found one that was totally empty. He threw himself onto one of the seats. As he watched the people milling about on the platform through the steam of the train, Sirius felt his anger ebbing away. He was finally leaving for Hogwarts. He wouldn’t have to hear his mother berating him until Christmas.
“Hey, you’re the kid from the Quidditch shop!”
Sirius looked up at the slight, dark-haired boy who had just walked into the car. “That’s right. I’m Sirius Black. And you’re… James, is it?” Sirius asked.
“James Potter.” He grinned and plopped into the seat across from him.
Well, mother and father would be pleased at least, Sirius thought. He remembered his mother mentioning the Potter family somewhere on the family tree.
“I saw these after you left,” James said, taking a Snitch from his pocket. “Got you one.”
“Wicked! Is it real?” Sirius said, taking the Snitch, trying not to show how flattered he was. He was sure he hadn’t made any friends on his Wand Day.
“No, it’s just a model. Won’t fly more than ten feet away. I was practicing all week, driving my parents batty. Want to try it out?”
Sirius let go and the Snitch buzzed its wings, rocketing towards the window. He dived for it and missed. It bounced off the window and flew towards the ceiling.
“I got it!” yelled James, springing upwards.
“Oh no you haven’t!” Sirius shouldered him to the seat and snatched it, laughing triumphantly.
“All right then,” James said. “Let’s give it another go!”
Sirius let it go and they both jumped for it at the same time, crashing into each other. With a roar of laughter, James climbed over him and jumped into the aisle, arm outstretched. “Got it!” he yelled victoriously. They kept this up until the train whistled and lurched forward.
“All right then,” said James, impressed, pocketing it. “You’re pretty good!”
“Not bad yourself,” said Sirius, stretching across his seat. “You ever play?”
“My dad signed me up for the little league team. I played just about every position, but my favorite is Seeker.”
“Everyone’s favorite is Seeker.”
“Because it’s the best position! I want to play at Hogwarts, of course.”
Just then, on the other side of the train car, they heard, “But we’re going! This is it! We’re off to Hogwarts!”
Sirius glanced over and saw Snape and Lily sitting on the other side of the train car. Lily, who seemed to have been crying, was mopping her eyes. She half smiled.
“You’d better be in Slytherin,” said Snape.
At this, James turned around and looked at them. “Slytherin?” He turned back to Sirius. “Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”
Sirius did not smile. “My whole family have been Slytherin,” he said, his new happiness rushing away as quickly as it came. He half expected James to ask for his Snitch back and find a new train car.
But James didn’t move. “Blimey,” he said. “And I thought you seemed all right!”
Sirius grinned, relieved. “Maybe I’ll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice?”
James lifted an invisible sword.
“Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!’ Like my dad.”
He looked a little silly, holding the invisible sword; it was the sort of thing Sirius’s cousins Bellatrix and Narcissa would have found ridiculous, Sirius knew, but he didn’t feel the slightest inclination to laugh.
To his great annoyance, however, Snape made a small, disparaging noise. James turned on him, frowning.
“Got a problem with that?”
“No,” said Snape, though his slight sneer said otherwise. “If you’d rather be brawny than brainy –”
“Where’re you hoping to go, seeing as you’re neither?” interjected Sirius.
James roared with laughter. Lily sat up, rather flushed, and looked from James to Sirius with dislike.
“Come on, Severus, let’s find another compartment.”
“Oooooo,” James and Sirius imitated her lofty voice. As Snape passed, James stuck out his foot.
“See ya, Snivellus!” James called after him, as the compartment door slammed. He turned back to Sirius. “Let’s play some more, now we’ve got the car to ourselves.” He took the Snitch back out of his pocket.
They dove around the train car, chasing the Snitch, laughing themselves hoarse as they tumbled over the tops of the seats and crashed to the ground. This continued at least thirty minutes, until the plump witch pushing the snack trolley came through the door.
“My word!” she gasped. James was lying on the floor, laughing, and Sirius was midway through leaping over a seat. He tried to stop midair and crashed directly onto the floor, causing James’s laughs to redouble, tears streaming down his face. “Shocking behavior! You must remain in your seats while the train is moving!”
The boys, laughing so hard they were barely able to crawl back to their seats, pulled themselves into their chairs with tears of mirth streaming down their cheeks. The witch came closer, struggling not to smile herself. “Would some snacks at least keep you in your place?”
It took James and Sirius a good minute to recover before James managed, wiping tears from his cheeks, “I’ll take a load of Chocolate Frogs and – what do you like?” he directed this question at Sirius.
Sirius procured a handful of gold from his pockets. “Let’s have some Fizzing Whizbees, Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans, some pumpkin pasties and some cauldron cakes.”
The trolley witch set out the small feast across the table.
Hours later, stomach full, the boys were playing a lively game of gobstones when Andromeda walked into the car with a small gaggle of older students. She had changed into her Slytherin robes. The other three students, Sirius noticed, were wearing scarlet.
“There you are, figured I’d come and find you,” said Andromeda, grinning. “You two sound like you’re having fun. The trolley witch’s been warning everyone off this train car. I’m Andromeda by the way,” she added with a smile at James. “Sirius is my cousin.” James gave a forced smile, eyeing her green robes distrustfully.
She turned to Sirius. “I wanted to introduce you to a few of my friends. This is Frank Longbottom,” she gestured at a kindly-looking boy around sixteen. “And this is Alice Greengrass. Careful around them, they’re both Prefects,” Andromeda said, winking. Alice waved cheerfully at them. “And this, of course, is Ted Tonks,” she said with a fond look at him. “You know all about Ted of course.”
Sirius raised his eyebrows quizzically; he had never heard of Ted Tonks. She silenced him with a meaningful look. “Right,” he said, cottoning on. “So, you’re Ted. She’s been talking about you all summer. Won’t shut up about you, actually.”
“My cousin Sirius always embellishes his stories,” Andromeda said, going pink and staring daggers at him. He grinned at her mischievously.
“Oh, I’m not embellishing!” Sirius said, widening his eyes innocently. “She’s been positively mooning over you.”
“Right then,” Andromeda said briskly, her face now burning with embarrassment. “Well, Ted, you were interested in meeting my little cousin, and now you’ve met him! Let’s head back.”
“Quite the contrary, Dromeda, I rather like him.” Ted was grinning, though he was rather pink as well. “You get enough to eat? Can I buy you a drink?” Andromeda crossed her arms reproachfully. “Butterbeer, darling,” he clarified placatingly.
James raised his eyebrows in interest. “I could go for some butterbeer.”
“You have to be thirteen to buy butterbeer, darling,” said Andromeda.
“Good thing I’m seventeen, then,” said Ted, ducking out of the train car with a grin.
“Good old Ted,” said Frank, smiling after him. “Right then, we might as well make ourselves comfortable.” He strode over and sat in the seats where Lily and Snape had been earlier. Alice joined him on the same side, smiling sweetly.
“Ah, yes, good old Ted,” Sirius repeated, low enough that Frank and Alice couldn’t hear. “You just couldn’t shut up about Ted, could you?”
“Listen, you can’t tell your parents. Or mine,” said Andromeda urgently. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure that Frank and Alice weren’t listening, and dropped her voice even lower. “His parents are Muggles.”
Her words hit Sirius like a bomb. His mouth dropped open in shock. “Wait – what?” Sirius glanced at James to see how he was taking this news and was surprised to see that James looked utterly nonplussed.
“You won’t tell, will you Sirius?” she pleaded. “You know what they’ll do.”
“They would kill you. No, seriously, they might actually kill you,” he looked again at James, whose face had darkened, his eyes moving between Sirius and Andromeda.
“If father doesn’t, Bella certainly would,” Andromeda said seriously.
“Course I won’t tell, Dromeda. Blimey.” Sirius sat back, the knowledge sinking in. “Wait, does Narcissa know?”
“Cissy knows,” Andromeda said tightly. “She’s not speaking to me of course, but she’s agreed that she won’t tell mother and father or Bella. Said she doesn’t want a dead sister.” She swallowed. “I have to be careful. In Slytherin, you know, people don’t – they don’t like things like that. Last Muggle-born who dated a Slytherin ended up in the hospital wing for a week. It’s like I told you at the Leaky Cauldron, Sirius. Things are getting ugly.”
“So, your friends are all Gryffindors, then?” James asked cautiously, looking back over at Frank and Alice.
“The Sorting Hat tried to put me in Gryffindor, actually,” Andromeda confessed. “I wouldn’t let it. I kept telling it I had to be in Slytherin.” She glanced at Frank and Alice. “Crazy how the Hat was right and I was wrong.”
“So, you can choose your House?” James asked, looking visibly relieved. “With this – this Sorting Hat?”
“You can choose your House,” Andromeda smiled at him. “But don’t go spreading it around. I wish I hadn’t chosen. I should have gone with what the Hat wanted.”
“If it tries to put me in Slytherin, there’s no way I’m going with what it wants,” James said forcefully. “That sounds terrible. I knew Slytherin was terrible –” he cast an apologetic look at Sirius, “but there’s no way,” he shook his head and leaned back in his chair.
Ted came bustling back through the door, arms full of bottles of butterbeer. “All right, then,” he said jovially. “A toast! To you young chaps, and your first trip on the Hogwarts Express! And to you and I, darling, on our last September trip to Hogwarts!” He raised a glass to Andromeda, then to Sirius and James.
Andromeda and her friends stayed in their car for the remainder of the trip, and when the train finally came to a stop, the whole group climbed off together, laughing, Sirius and James swaying slightly under the effects of their first bottle of butterbeer.
“Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!” boomed a giant man standing a short way away from the platform.
Sirius and James broke away from the raucous group, who shouted after them, “Bye Sirius! Go get em, James!” and, grinning, the two joined the large group of first years congregating in front of the giant. Nearly every student was looking at them in awe, Sirius noticed, and he felt a surge of gratitude to Andromeda. The sendoff from the sixth and seventh years immediately marked them as cool.
“Not bad so far, eh?” Sirius muttered to James, who grinned.
“Never thought my first friends would be Slytherins,” he said reverently.
“Oy, I haven’t been Sorted yet!”
“It would be wicked if you were Gryffindor,” said James. “We would be in the same House!”
The giant stepped forward. “C’mon, follow me – any more firs’ years?” he boomed. “Mind yer step now!”
As the final stragglers joined the group, two more boys sidled next to them. Sirius recognized one of them as the boy he had met at Flourish and Blotts. He looked even more unwell than a few days prior.
“Hey there,” Sirius grinned at him. “Didn’t we meet at the bookstore? You were looking at that book about dark creatures, right?”
He jumped and stared at Sirius.
“Your dad’s the boggart guy, right?” Sirius pressed. Maybe he couldn’t see him properly in the dark.
“Oh – right. I remember now,” the boy smiled. “But I don’t think I’ve met you,” he addressed James. “I’m Remus Lupin. And this,” he gestured at the plump boy next to him, “Is Peter Pettigrew.”
“Weren’t you that boy who couldn’t find the spell books that were right at the entrance of the store?” Sirius said, remembering him.
Peter gave a little squeak of acknowledgement.
“I’m James. Some train ride, eh?” James said.
“We got stuck sharing a train car with some Slytherins,” Remus said darkly. “Older kids. We managed all right most of the way, they seemed to be having fun hexing anyone who passed through the car but they didn’t really seem to notice us. But then Peter lost his toad and… well…”
At these words, Peter burst into tears.
“Why? What happened?” asked James, looking from Peter to Remus.
“They killed him!” wailed Peter. “They killed Travis.”
“Blimey! What?! Did you tell a teacher?” James looked horrified.
“I couldn’t find one,” he wailed again. “Only the snack trolley witch!”
“What did she say?” James asked.
“I didn’t tell her! I just bought a bunch of chocolate!”
Sirius fought down a vicious desire to laugh.
“It was really awful,” Remus said seriously. “Their idea of a great joke, apparently. As soon as we’re Sorted, we’ll have to tell someone.”
“All righ’, I think that’s everyone,” said the giant. Now that they had all gathered close, Sirius looked again at the massive man in front of him. He was almost twice as large as a normal man and at least five times as wide, with bushy hair and a wild, tangled beard.
“I’m Hagrid, by the way,” the giant said. “Everyone follow me.”
The gaggle of first years followed Hagrid down a narrow, steep path walled with trees. Everyone fell silent as they endeavored not to slip as they descended.
“There she is,” said Hagrid admiringly as they rounded a bend. “Hogwarts.”
There was a loud “ooooh!” as they caught sight of Hogwarts, which rose majestically from a mountaintop on the other side of a vast, black lake. Its windows twinkled against the night sky. Sirius inhaled the night air deeply and glanced at James, who looked awestruck.
“No more’n four to a boat!” called Hagrid. He pointed to a collection of at least fifteen boats docked on the shore. James and Sirius clambered into a boat near the center. Remus and Peter climbed in behind them. Peter was still sniffling pitifully.
“Everyone in?” shouted the giant. He had an entire boat to himself. “All righ’ then – FORWARD!”
All at once, the boats pushed off the shore by themselves and glided across the mirrorlike lake. Silence fell over the boats, save the intermittent sniffles of Peter, as they sailed across the lake to the base of the cliff upon which Hogwarts stood.
“Everybody, heads down!” Hagrid shouted as Sirius and James’s boat reached the base of the cliff. Sirius ducked down, and in the corner of his eye he saw James do the same. Long tendrils of ivy brushed over their heads. Behind them, a soft thunk and an “Ow!” told them that Peter hadn’t quite gotten down in time. They glided along a long dark tunnel, until they reached a kind of underground harbor. They clambered onto the shore which, instead of sand, was covered in pebbles.
Ahead, Sirius saw Hagrid’s lamp illuminate a passageway in the rock, and he clambered after him. James pulled ahead of him; he could hear Remus puffing behind him. Finally, they emerged onto a lawn of smooth grass. They were at the base of the castle.
The first years followed Hagrid up a majestic flight of stone stairs and crowded around a huge oak door: the entrance to the castle. Sirius turned around and looked back. In the distance, the Hogwarts Express pulled silently away from the school. On the stairs below, Peter Pettigrew, puffing mightily, was making his way up the final steps.
“Everyone here?” asked Hagrid. “Right then.”
He raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.
Notes:
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Chapter 4: The Sorting
Chapter Text
CHAPTER 4
THE SORTING
The door immediately swung open, revealing a tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes. She had a very stern face. Judging from the color of her robes, Sirius supposed she might be a professor of the Slytherin House.
“Firs’ years, Professor McGonagall,” said Hagrid.
“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.”
She pulled the door wide. It was enormous, even by the standards of the House of Black. The ceiling was so high that, try as he might, Sirius couldn’t see it. Ahead, a regal marble staircase climbed out of sight.
“Follow me,” said Professor McGonagall, leading the first years across the flagstone floor. Sirius glanced nervously at a large doorway on their right. He could hear the buzz of hundreds of people on the other side. Professor McGonagall led them a little further on, then gestured to them to gather around. With a flick of her wand, the rumble from beyond the doorway suddenly muted.
“Welcome to Hogwarts,” she said. “Before you enjoy our start-of-term banquet, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.
“The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, and any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school.
“What’s wrong with you, young man?” she said suddenly, looking at Peter Pettigrew, who had tears streaming down his face again.
Peter looked terrified at being addressed directly by Professor McGonagall, and he mouthed soundlessly at her.
“Well, out with it,” she said severely. “We can’t have you weeping in front of the entire school on your first day.”
“They killed his pet toad on the train, Professor,” Remus piped up.
“What?” Professor McGonagall said, aghast. “Who killed his toad?”
“A bunch of older Slytherins in our car,” Remus replied.
“Goodness gracious! How did they -? Never mind. What’s your name?” she addressed Peter.
Still Peter could not answer, and again Remus spoke up. “His name is Peter Pettigrew, Professor.”
“Thank you. And what is your name, young man?”
“Remus Lupin, Professor.”
Professor McGonagall did the smallest of double takes, examining Remus.
“Thank you for your kind assistance, Mr. Lupin,” she said, raising her eyebrows. She turned to Peter. “Mr. Pettigrew, we will have to deal with this after the Sorting. You are to come and speak with me as soon as you are finished with your meal. Mr. Lupin, since you witnessed it as well, please accompany Mr. Pettigrew. I will have a word with Professor Slughorn.”
Pettigrew nodded, looking miserable and thoroughly embarrassed. Remus looked nervous for him.
“In the meantime, get yourself smartened up. All of you,” she said sternly.
Peter began frantically wiping his eyes on his robes. Sirius reached in his robes and felt the comb that Tipsy had placed there for him. He considered using it but, glancing at James, thought better of it. He didn’t want to seem preening.
“I shall return when we are ready for you,” said Professor McGonagall. “Please wait quietly.”
Sirius glanced around. In the gaggle, he saw Lily and Snape talking in low voices. Lily looked nervous, and Snape seemed to be reassuring her.
“How exactly are we sorted into houses?” Remus asked behind him.
“Apparently it’s a hat,” James replied. “A seventh year was telling us on the train. Which House are you hoping for?”
“I haven’t really thought about it,” Remus replied quietly. “What about you?”
“Definitely Gryffindor,” James said, grinning.
“What about you, Peter?” Remus asked kindly.
Peter’s eyes shifted nervously between Remus, James, and Sirius. “Anything but Slytherin,” he said, shuddering.
“I’m sure they’re not all bad like the ones on the train,” began Remus. “You heard Professor McGonagall. Every house has produced outstanding –”
“No, you’ve got the right idea,” laughed James. He scanned the crowd, seeming to spot Snape near the back. “Anything but Slytherin,” he repeated loudly. Snape scowled at him.
“Come now,” said Professor McGonagall. Sirius saw her striding towards them. “The Sorting Ceremony’s about to start. Form a line and follow me.”
The gaggle of students fell silent as they formed a line and followed Professor McGonagall through the Entrance Hall.
Sirius’s heart started pounding. He thought of the Slytherin banner that had hung in his room since he was a baby. He thought of his father, encouraging him to befriend the right kind of wizarding family. He thought of his mother, reminding him of his duty to carry on the legacy of the Black family.
Professor McGonagall pushed open the double doors, and a rush of noise overwhelmed them.
Thousands upon thousands of candles floated in midair over four long tables piled high with golden plates and goblets, surrounded by at least three hundred students. Three hundred pairs of eyes watched them expectantly as they walked through the center of the hall, up to a high table in the front. A line of teachers stood back from the table; the first years filed in front of them, turning and facing the Great Hall in a line.
Sirius glanced up. The ceiling of the Great Hall was spangled with stars. He scanned it and quickly found his own: Sirius, the Dog Star. “Scorcher,” Mr. Scrimgeour had said. “The brightest star in the night sky, outshone only by the moon and the planets.”
Professor McGonagall was placing a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool, she put a pointed wizard’s hat. The Sorting Hat.
Sirius glanced at James next to him, who nodded slightly. The whole Hall waited, with every set of eyes fixed expectantly upon the Hat.
Then, a rip near the brim opened, and the Hat began to sing.
Welcome, students, old and new,
to this castle and this school
Where heads will learn and hearts will form
Their values, wise or cruel
Be you brave or wise or cunning
Come forward from the throng
Be you fair and kind or full of ambition,
I’ll tell you then where you belong
In Gryffindor, where dwell brave at heart
Or Ravenclaw, brilliant, fair, and wise,
In Slytherin, power-seeking and ambitious
Or Hufflepuff, where loyalty is prized!
We are one school, though Houses four
Unite though I divide!
See strengths instead of differences,
In harmony abide!
For house divided cannot stand
And dark times lie ahead;
In times of darkness, find the light
Of friendship and breaking of bread.
Come forward now, don’t be afraid!
I’ll see your heart and mind!
The Sorting Hat will find your place
Where friends you will surely find!
The flap on the hat closed, and there was a ringing silence.
“When I call your name,” said Professor McGonagall, unrolling a long scroll, “you will put on the Sorting Hat and sit on the stool to be sorted.”
She cleared her throat.
“Aubrey, Bertram!” A clean-cut boy stepped firmly out of line, looking pale. He put on the hat. A few seconds passed.
“RAVENCLAW!” shouted the hat.
A table second from the left erupted into applause as Bertram Aubrey hurried towards them, looking pleased.
“Avery, Phineas!” Sirius watched Avery step forward, remembering the time he and Avery knocked a jar of pickled frog spleens off a shelf in Knockturn Alley; they had been fooling around while their mothers spoke in low voices over tea. Their mothers were both profoundly embarrassed, and Avery had been soundly beaten in the middle of the restaurant while the other patrons pretended not to see. “SLYTHERIN!” the Hat shouted.
Sirius looked at the table on the far right that stood applauding and whistling. He spotted his cousin Narcissa, clapping elegantly, among the sea of green. Standing a little apart from the others, Andromeda stood clapping with the rest.
“Bagman, Otto!” A round-faced boy stepped forward, grinning. He pulled the hat on.
“HUFFLEPUFF!”
He stood, smiling, and walked to a table on the right. Sirius saw him give a little wave to a boy in Slytherin who looked nearly identical to him, just a couple of years older, who waved back, looking slightly put out.
“Black, Sirius!”
His heart was pounding out of his chest, his stomach doing full backflips. Nevertheless, he loped forward with practiced grace, glancing carelessly around the room. He caught sight of Andromeda giving him a double thumbs up. He smiled at her, but it felt strained and out of place on his face, which seemed to have gone mostly numb. Sirius picked up the Sorting Hat, and just before he pulled it on, he looked up at the ceiling again and set his eyes on his star. Then, all went dark.
“Hmm…” said a voice in his ear. “My, you are a difficult case. Let’s see here, let’s see. Goodness, an astonishingly sharp mind and considerable talent, you would do well in Ravenclaw… but not too interested in doing the work unless it interests you… hm… a strong streak of loyalty, my, my, and a powerful sense of right and wrong. Hufflepuff would strengthen those, indeed. More than a little courage, that’s nice to see, with a strong reckless streak. You are quite determined, and very bold – you do like to be the center of attention. You would find good friends in Gryffindor. And, of course, an astounding level of ambition, though you don’t like others to know. Yes, you are not satisfied unless you are the best. And you come from a long line of pureblooded wizards, quite powerful. You don’t put much stock by the rules if they don’t suit you…”
“Not Slytherin,” Sirius thought suddenly. “I don’t want Slytherin. I want Gryffindor.”
“Slytherin will take you far, Mr. Black, far further than any of the others. It will instill temperance to your recklessness, support your ambitions…”
“No,” he thought fiercely. “I know I can choose. I choose Gryffindor.”
“Are you sure? All right then… as I said, you will find good friends there… better be GRYFFINDOR!”
It shouted this last word loudly for the whole Hall to hear. Sirius ripped off the Hat, grinning, as the table to the far left began clapping. He looked back at the line behind the table and flashed a thumbs up to James, who was grinning broadly. He scanned the Slytherin table, where he saw, to his satisfaction, a row of faces wearing expressions of varying degrees of shock. Narcissa stood up suddenly, as though to walk away, but stayed frozen, watching him. Avery’s jaw was hanging open. He looked back up at the line of students waiting to be Sorted. Marcus Flint and Evan Rosier, with whom Sirius had spent many childhood days playing in Knockturn Alley, were looking at each other in undisguised astonishment. Rebecca Lestrange, the little sister of a Slytherin boy who was friendly with Bellatrix, was peering at him from behind a sheet of black hair. Sirius looked back at the Slytherin table. His eyes traveled around the room until he found Andromeda, who was giving him a small, sad smile. He returned it with a wave and small smile of his own, then turned his back on them and walked to the Gryffindor table.
As he made his way to his seat, he noticed that the applause from the Gryffindor table was decidedly less enthusiastic than what the other tables had given to their Sorted students. He saw several of the older students watching him warily, with varying degrees of dislike.
“Black, did you say?” said an older Gryffindor gruffly as Sirius passed. “Any relation to Bellatrix Black?”
“Relax, Joe, he’s all right,” said a boy next to him, whom Sirius realized after a moment was Frank Longbottom.
“Great to have you, Sirius,” said Frank warmly, clapping him on the back. “This kid is hilarious,” he said to an older student on his other side. Sirius smiled and sidled to the empty bench, which he supposed was for first years.
He didn’t have to wait long.
“Bones, Lucy!” A thin-faced girl with chin-length brown hair was sorted into Gryffindor next. She waved at an older girl at the Ravenclaw table on her way to her seat.
“Bulstrode, Maltrina!” A girl with a face like a pug lurched forward, a sour expression on her face. “SLYTHERIN!” the Hat screamed immediately.
“Carrow, Silva!” A girl with a pointed nose and dark hair stepped forward, looking nervous. “SLYTHERIN!” Carrow sat next to Maltrina Bulstrode at the green and silver table.
“Churchill, Ryan!” a handsome tanned blonde boy walked forward, hands in his pockets. Around fifteen seconds passed. “GRYFFINDOR!” Ryan sat on the other side of the table, then turned to watch the front.
“Coote, Caleb!” A boy with a freckled oval face and dark hair, who seemed to be chewing on his cheek, sat down. “GRYFFINDOR!” Ryan Churchill cheered louder than the rest; they seemed to know each other.
Sirius’s looked down the line of nervous first years. He was grateful that he was among the first called. James was tapping his foot, looking pale, and Lily and Snape seemed to huddle close to one another while they waited.
“Crabbe, Francis!” Sirius watched the large, hulking form of Francis Crabbe shuffle forward. He was familiar from larger family gatherings; Sirius was something like second cousins with Francis, who, like the rest of his family, went only by Crabbe. Sirius had always found him to be rather dim. “SLYTHERIN!”
“Crouch, Hector!” A scrawny boy staggered forward and pulled on the Hat. Several moments passed, then: “RAVENCLAW!”
“Dayspring, Florence!” A pretty girl with shoulder-length loose brown curls sprung forward. “HUFFLEPUFF!”
“Evans, Lily!” She gave a nervous look at Snape, then strode forward. “GRYFFINDOR!” the Hat shouted after a few moments. She flushed happily at the applause and made her way to Sirius’s table. On her way over, she glanced back at the line of first years. Sirius followed her gaze: Snape looked crestfallen.
As she walked down the aisle next to the Gryffindor table, beaming, Sirius noticed again that she was extremely pretty, and scooted over to make space for her next to him. She looked at Sirius and her expression hardened. With a swish of her red hair, she turned her back on him and walked resolutely further down the table.
Sirius supposed he must not have made the best first impression, either at Madam Malkins or on the train. He felt a pang of embarrassment, but leaned back nonchalantly as he returned his attention to the students in the front, aware of the eyes of his classmates on him.
Sirius didn’t pay much mind as one student after the next was sorted, though he clapped when “Flint, Marcus!” was sorted into Slytherin. He knew Flint from long, boring afternoons at Knockturn Alley while their mothers gossiped together, and they had played backyard Quidditch together at his cousins’ house growing up. He hadn’t seen him in several years. As Sirius applauded, he noticed some of the older students at the Gryffindor table looking at him out of the corner of their eyes. He stopped clapping.
He was only half-listening while Alice Fortescue, a plump girl with blonde pigtails, was Sorted into Hufflepuff, and Gregory Garrett into Ravenclaw. When Rodanthe Greengrass was also Sorted into Ravenclaw, Alice Greengrass cheered loudly for him. Sirius supposed they might be siblings.
Next was Davey Gudgeon, who looked up as though surprised when his name was called, and sauntered to the stool with his hands in his pockets. He was Sorted into Hufflepuff. Hestia Jones, a pale, dark-haired girl was Sorted into Ravenclaw, and then Hailey Johnson, a dark-skinned girl who wore two long black braids, was sorted into Hufflepuff.
The next Gryffindor to join Sirius was Kristina Kirke, a thin, mousy-haired girl. Cheers erupted down the Gryffindor table; Sirius clapped as she sat further down the table, near Lily Evans.
Kristina was followed by Rebecca Lestrange. He clapped twice when she was sorted into Slytherin, hoping not to draw too much attention.
“Lupin, Remus!” Remus stepped forward, looking pale and quite tired. He sat on the stool and pulled the hat over his eyes. The Hall waited for two whole minutes, then: “GRYFFINDOR!” Sirius whooped loudly as Remus took the Sorting Hat off, flushed, and made his way to the table, grinning. He caught Sirius’s eye, who gave him a thumbs up. Remus slid in next to him, in the space Sirius had cleared for Lily.
Remus was immediately followed by another Gryffindor. Mary MacDonald, a girl with fair skin and dark brown hair, walked happily to their table. Thomas Macmillan, a distant cousin, was quickly sorted into Ravenclaw, then Marlene McKinnon, a brown-haired girl Sirius hadn’t met but whose name he recognized as belonging to an old pureblood family, joined the Gryffindor table. Then Tiberius McLaggen, a confident-looking boy who swaggered to the stool, was Sorted into Ravenclaw.
“Meadowes, Dorcas!” Professor McGonagall called. A dark-skinned girl with tightly cropped hair and radiant skin strode forward confidently and pulled on the Hat. It barely touched her head when the Hat screamed GRYFFINDOR! She flashed a radiant smile as she made her way past Sirius and sat next to Lily.
“Mulciber, Mordrey!” A sullen-faced boy stepped forward. Sirius knew him from childhood but had never much liked him. Sirius observed that Mulciber had a penchant for cruelty that reminded him of Bellatrix. “SLYTHERIN!” The Hat cried immediately.
“Nott, Regina!” A girl with long, very shiny and very straight blonde hair stepped forward gracefully. “SLYTHERIN!”
“Peakes, Penelope!” A girl with tanned skin and black hair pulled back into a ponytail walked forward. “GRYFFINDOR!”
The empty bench at the Gryffindor table was nearly full. They were in the “P’s” now – Potter would have to be soon.
Next, however, was Peter Pettigrew. Peter stumbled forward with a squeak. There were only about eight people left in the line up front. James was beginning to look rather ill.
Peter plopped on the stool and pulled the Sorting Hat onto his head. Ten seconds passed, then twenty… one minute. Two minutes. The Great Hall began to get restless, and low conversations began.
Sirius yawned and glanced over at the Slytherin table. Marcus Flint was sitting next to Francis Crabbe, chatting with him unconcernedly. Mordrey Mulciber and Phineas Avery were already deep in conversation. Sirius knew both of them somewhat; Sirius, Mordrey, and Phineas played together from time to time while growing up, if you could call examining shrunken heads and pickled creatures together “playing.” His mother would periodically drag Sirius along with her to a small restaurant in Knockturn Alley where she would meet with Mrs. Avery and Mrs. Mulciber to discuss topics unsuitable for Diagon Alley.
Rebecca Lestrange was sitting with Maltrina Bulstrode and Regina Nott. Maltrina Bulstrode was staring sullenly at the Sorting Hat, while Regina Nott appeared aloof and poised, ignoring the attempts of Marcus Flint to engage her in conversation. Sirius was strongly reminded of Narcissa. Rebecca Lestrange, like Sirius, was looking around at the different House tables curiously.
The few times Sirius had met Rebecca, she had always struck him as much different than her older brothers, of whom she seemed to be afraid. Her eldest brother, Rodolphus, was friendly with Bellatrix, which usually meant that they enjoyed wandering around the grounds of the estate, looking for a small child or animal to torment together. She had another brother, Rabastan, who was about four years older than her. Rabastan often tagged along with Bellatrix and Rodolphus, and Rebecca seemed keen to stay out of their way. Sirius had never really spoken to her; she was very reserved, seeming to hide behind a sheet of black hair that she never tucked behind her ears, and crept like a cat around the estate, finding isolated nooks and deserted rooms where she could sometimes be found curled up with a book. Seeming to feel his gaze, she met his eyes and smiled timidly. Surprised, Sirius quickly looked away.
Sirius thought about what his father had told him about befriending the right families. As he looked across the Great Hall, he was struck not only by the fact that almost every person he knew growing up had been Sorted into Slytherin, but also by the sheer number of people and names he had never heard of before. He had had an impression that the wizarding world was rather small and had assumed that he would already know most of his classmates. So far, however, the only family names in Gryffindor he had even heard of were Potter and McKinnon.
James looked as though he was turning green with anxiety. People began to murmur. Several minutes had passed, and Peter still had the Hat on his head. Now the teachers were murmuring to each other. Sirius glanced at Remus, who raised his eyebrows questioningly.
“It’s been over five minutes. That’s a Hatstall, that is,” said an older boy several seats down.
Sirius looked at the teachers. Although several looked concerned, the man in the middle with a long graying beard was waiting serenely, fingertips resting together. Sirius realized with a jolt that he was the famous wizard Albus Dumbledore, defeater of Grindelwald and headmaster of Hogwarts.
“GRYFFINDOR!” The Hat yelled finally, and there were shouts of impatience and relief around the Hall. The Gryffindor table heckled Peter good-naturedly as he made his way to his seat, bright red. When Peter chose the seat immediately across from him, Sirius waved him off, still watching James. “Hang on, I’m saving that one!” Peter turned, if possible, an even brighter shade of red.
“There’s a spot a few seats down, look,” said Remus kindly.
“Potter, James!” Professor McGonagall read.
Sirius saw James step forward. Even from across the Hall, Sirius could see that his hands were shaking, but his steps were confident as he strode to the stool, sat down, and determinedly pulled the hat on. Sirius held his breath.
“GRYFFINDOR!”
Sirius whooped as loudly as he could, banging his goblet on the table, as James made his way, flushed and grinning, to the table. Sirius stood up and swooped his arm in an elaborate gesture of welcome to the empty seat across from him. James sat down gratefully, grinning from ear to ear.
“Saved you a seat, mate,” Sirius shouted over the applause.
“Both in Gryffindor!” James said excitedly once the applause died down, talking over Professor McGonagall who was calling “Proudfoot, Eliana!” After Eliana Proudfoot was Sorted into Ravenclaw, “Robinson, Michael!” a tall, fair-haired boy joined Sirius and James at the Gryffindor table.
“Rosier, Evan!” Professor McGonagall called. Sirius looked up with interest. He had played Rosier in Quidditch at his uncle’s, along with Flint. He was much taller than Sirius remembered, with shaggy black hair and a pale, pointed face. “SLYTHERIN!”
Next was “Rowle, Queenie!”, a tall, thin girl with curly blonde hair that fell past her shoulders strode forward, chin proudly raised. She sat on the stool, legs crossed, and daintily put on the hat. “SLYTHERIN!”
After “Sloper, Brianna!” a tanned girl with brown hair pulled untidily into a bun, was Sorted into Ravenclaw, Professor McGonagall called forward Severus Snape.
The sallow-skinned, hook-nosed boy raised his head proudly and strode forward, pulling the hat over his greasy black hair. “SLYTHERIN!”
Sirius watched Snape with dislike as he made his way to his seat. He sat next to Queenie Rowle, who looked him up and down and scooted definitively away from him. Snape, however, didn’t seem to notice; he was looking across the Hall, at a spot further down the Gryffindor table. Sirius looked back at the High Table; there were only four students left.
He was barely listening as Ravenclaw gained Teresa Travers, a small, mousy-haired girl, and Hufflepuff received their final two students: Joseph Vinh and Walter Westenberg.
“Come on,” Sirius heard an older student groan. “I’m starving.”
At last, they had reached the final student. Professor McGonagall called out “Yao, Catherine!” Catherine Yao, a pretty Asian girl with straight black hair and a pointed chin smiled to herself, as though laughing at her own nervousness, and pulled on the hat. “RAVENCLAW!”
The House exploded with cheers as Catherine Yao walked to her seat at the Ravenclaw table.
“I give you the Hogwarts Class of 1978!” Professor McGonagall announced, allowing herself a smile. The entire Hall cheered and clapped, jumping to their feet. Several of the older students at the Gryffindor table clapped the younger students on the back and welcomed them. The first years were all grinning from ear to ear.
“And now,” Professor McGonagall said, “we will hear a few remarks from Hogwarts Headmaster, Professor Albus Dumbledore.”
Chapter 5: The Unexpected Unwelcome
Summary:
Sirius breaks free from his family's expectations, and is met with an unexpected response.
Chapter Text
Chapter 5
An Unexpected Unwelcome
Professor Dumbledore stood with a patient smile and waited. Sirius saw that his beard was so long that he had tucked it into the belt of his long, sapphire-colored robes, which appeared to be embroidered with the constellations of the night sky.
The cheers continued for a good while, with some people still greeting the newcomers, and others shouting Professor Dumbledore’s name. At last, the cheers subsided, and Professor Dumbledore spoke.
“Good evening and welcome!” he said, beaming around at the students in the Great Hall. “I am very pleased to welcome you back for a new year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Before you dig into your delicious feasts, I ask that you permit me a few moments to make some announcements and introductions.
“First, I would like to introduce our new professor this year, who will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Waldmeister, who joins us from the Austrian Ministry of Magic.”
A woman with a pointed face and long blonde curls that fell past her shoulders stood and smiled at the applause.
“I would also like to take this opportunity to introduce Professor Heilige. Professor Heilige is a visiting professor from the University of Magical Medicine in Berlin. He is here as part of a medical and cultural exchange program. He will be assisting Madam Pomfrey and teaching several N.E.W.T. level courses for aspiring Healers. We are very pleased to have another medical professional on our team.”
A tall, tired-looking man with thick, precisely parted blonde hair and high cheekbones stood up and waved smartly at them.
Professor Dumbledore gestured again towards him with a gracious smile. “Please welcome Professor Heilige.”
There was another round of applause, somewhat less enthusiastic than the first.
“Finally, I would like to introduce another guest you may see from time to time. Mr. Boris Weber is visiting from our own Ministry of Magic.” He gestured to a round-bellied, ruddy-faced man with a rather large nose and thin blonde hair that lay flat against his head. “In light of recent events, the Ministry has generously allowed us to borrow Mr. Weber from time to time, to provide oversight of our security protocols here at Hogwarts. Welcome, Mr. Weber.”
There was a smattering of polite applause, mixed with some murmurings. Oversight of security protocols? In light of recent events? What could that mean?
“I would also like to remind students of our rule that no one is to be out on the grounds after dark. That rule will be enforced especially strongly this year, and I advise you to observe it. You will also notice that the grounds have a new landmark, a majestic willow. It is a rare and valuable Whomping Willow, which Professor Sprout has so adeptly acquired for study and observation, and I advise students who wish to keep all their limbs to keep a far distance from it.”
Sirius looked up and down the table to see if anyone was smiling. Surely, he was joking? But none of the older students seemed to think so, and many were nodding or whispering to one another.
“Well then,” Professor Dumbledore concluded. “I have kept you long enough from your feast, so, without further ado, I encourage you to enjoy it.”
The goblets and serving platters suddenly filled with food and drink. Even Sirius, who was used to extravagant banquets at home, was astonished. There was every kind of food you could imagine: honey-glazed ham, half-racks of ribs, candied sweet potatoes and baskets of bread rolls whose glazed tops gleamed appealingly in the light, fish and chips and roasted vegetables. Sirius glanced into his goblet. It had filled with a golden, bubbling drink. He held it up, examining it with interest.
“To Gryffindor, then?” James said, raising his goblet in a toast.
Sirius grinned. “To Gryffindor,” he said, raising it and clinking it with James’s. “Where dwell the brave of heart.” He turned to Remus, who toasted with a surprised smile.
“What about Pettigrew, eh?” James said, helping himself to some green bean casserole. “I was starting to think I would never get Sorted.”
Sirius glanced down the table to where Peter Pettigrew sat, nibbling on his meal.
“A Hatstall,” said Sirius. “I don’t reckon that happens much.”
“At least he didn’t get Slytherin,” said Remus, taking a bite of roast beef.
“That’s for sure,” agreed James. “Apparently they would eat him alive.”
“They don’t exactly look a welcoming bunch, do they?” Remus observed, looking over at the table of green.
“They all pretty much know each other,” said Sirius. “And they all knew they would be Sorted into Slytherin. There’s not much need to welcome them, I guess.”
“You would know, wouldn’t you?” said a loud voice angrily from several seats down. Sirius turned to see the older boy, Joe, who had confronted him on his way to his seat. “You been having tea parties together since you were in nappies, have you?”
“Sorry,” Sirius said cooly. “I’m not sure we’ve met properly.”
“Joe Savage. And you’re a Black, are you?”
“That’s right. What’s it to you?”
“Your sister cursed my girlfriend, that’s what,” Savage snarled.
“Who, Bella?”
“You call her Bella. That’s cute,” Savage sneered.
Frank Longbottom, who was sitting on his other side, stood up. “Joe, I told you to stand down,” he said forcefully. “He’s an eleven-year-old kid. Let it rest.”
“He doesn’t belong in our House,” Savage barked, standing up.
“Bad luck, Savage, looks like you’re stuck with me,” Sirius said evenly. He didn’t stand or raise his voice, though his heart was pounding.
Savage stalked behind him. “You better watch your back,” he snarled.
Sirius glanced across the table at James and Remus’s shocked faces. He dabbed his face with his napkin, set it down carefully on the table, then slowly stood and turned around. He was inches away from Savage.
“Is that right?” Sirius said quietly. “Maybe you should watch your back, Savage. Maybe Bella taught me a thing or two.”
Sirius was bluffing, of course, but to his satisfaction he saw a flicker of fear on Savage’s face.
A hand clapped on Savage’s shoulder. Frank Longbottom pulled him backwards, then stepped between him and Sirius. He began speaking to Savage quickly in a low, threatening voice. Whatever he said made Savage sit back down, although he kept casting dark looks in Sirius’s direction.
Sirius calmly turned his back on them, sat back down, and ladled some gravy onto his potatoes. He felt the eyes of his classmates on him. He glanced at James, who was watching him with concern.
“Bellatrix is my cousin, not my sister,” Sirius said in a low voice to him. “And she’s an evil hag.”
“Well, aren’t you making a splash?” A haughty-looking girl with wavy red hair and blue eyes had walked over during the exchange. “Patricia Rakepick, holder of the title of Chief Mischief-maker for the past five years. I notice that you’ve already caused a stir, so I figured I’d come and introduce myself.”
“He didn’t do anything,” said James indignantly. “That bloke picked a fight with him.” He jerked his head in the direction of Savage, who was still glowering at them.
“Yeah, I saw you’d met Savage,” she said with a flippant grin. “He can be a bit… uptight. Is it true you’re a Black though?” She turned to Sirius with interest.
Sirius nodded, ignoring the twisting in his stomach.
“I know lots of Blacks. Not too popular around here. Gryffindor, I mean. Not too fond of Muggle-borns, are you? Bellatrix Black – did I hear she was your sister? – was a living nightmare. Powerful witch. Really had it out for Savage. Landed his girlfriend in St. Mungo’s right after graduation, from what I’ve heard. She’ll have to delay her Auror training a whole year.”
“Bellatrix isn’t my sister, she’s my cousin,” said Sirius edgily. “I try to stay away from her.”
“No need to get defensive!” said Patricia, putting her hands up innocently. “I don’t care that you’re a Black. You can’t help who you’re related to.”
“That’ll do, Ms. Rakepick.” Everyone jumped. Professor McGonagall had come up right next to them. “Please find your seat,” she said sternly.
“Yes, Professor,” Patricia said, slinking back down the table.
Professor McGonagall watched her go, then looked at the three boys, her eyes lingering on Sirius for a moment. Then she turned to Remus. “Mr. Lupin, if you are done eating, I should like to speak with you and Mr. Pettigrew.”
“Yes, Professor,” said Remus, carefully dabbing his mouth and putting his napkin back on the table and standing up. He looked rather pale as he followed her down the table to where Peter sat.
James turned to Sirius. “Blimey, mate, when you said your whole family was in Slytherin –”
“I can’t help who I’m related to,” Sirius replied tensely. To his horror, he felt a knot forming in his throat. Had he really thought this through? He had been so focused on whether he would choose Gryffindor, he hadn’t considered whether Gryffindor would accept him.
“Of course you can’t,” said James quickly. “Look, the Hat sorted you into Gryffindor. It wouldn’t have done if you didn’t belong here. Besides,” he took a bite of bread, “I’m related to the Black family too, pretty sure. I’ve got a Black cousin twice removed or something.”
“I think I’ve got Blacks and Potters on my mother’s side,” chimed in Michael Robinson, a first year who scooted into Remus’s vacant seat. “Course, I’m half and half. My dad was Muggle-born.” He cast a nervous look at Sirius, who supposed he must be worrying about what Patricia said about the Blacks not being fond of wizards without pure blood. Sirius took another sip from his goblet, keeping his face carefully neutral.
“Are all wizards related?” asked the boy sitting next to Michael, whom Sirius remembered was called Caleb Coote.
“Mostly, yeah,” said Michael. “I guess you’re Muggle-born, then?”
Sirius, who was now helping himself to some blackberry pie, examined Caleb with interest.
“Yeah. Mum couldn’t believe it. Professor McGonagall knocked on the front door and asked if she could come in for a spot of tea, wearing her robes and all. Mum thought it was a prank of my dad’s until McGonagall turned into a cat right in front of her!”
“Turned into a cat?” said James interestedly. “Really?”
“Yeah. I forget what she called it. She’s animatronic...?”
“An Animagus?” asked Sirius, taking a bite of pie. He remembered hearing about them from Mr. Scrimgeour. “There have only been, like, five this century. What does Professor McGonagall teach?”
“Transfiguration, hopefully,” said James eagerly.
When they finished dessert, an older boy with flaming red hair and a gleaming crimson badge on his chest hustled towards them from down the table.
“All finished?” he said briskly. “Here, these are your class schedules for tomorrow.” He handed them each a piece of paper. “Right, first year boys. I’m Gideon Prewett. I’m a Prefect, so anything you need, just come to me. Follow me, now.”
They followed Gideon Prewett up multiple stairwells and through a tapestry with a passageway behind it until they reached a portrait of a fat lady in a dress.
“Password?” she asked.
“Tibbeltigibbet,” Gideon said, and the portrait swung forward to reveal an entrance hole behind it.
Through the portrait hole was a vast room with squashy scarlet sofas and chairs with gilded feet, assorted tables, and a large fireplace with a cheerfully crackling fire.
Gideon led them upstairs to their dormitories. “There are two rooms for the seven of you,” he said. “Four to one room and three to the other. I’ll let you sort it out.”
“C’mon, Sirius,” said James, grinning and throwing open one of the doors. “I call the bed by the window!”
“Hey, let’s grab the other room,” said Michael Robinson to Ryan Churchill meaningfully. Caleb Coote, who seemed to know Ryan from the train, followed them down the hall.
“S’pose that leaves us Remus and Peter,” said James carelessly, launching himself onto his bed and throwing his hands behind his head. “I wonder when they’ll get back from McGonagall? Want to play a round of gobstones?”
“Sure!”
No sooner had James set out the gobstones than a loud CRACK sounded. To Sirius’s dismay, Tipsy stood in their room.
“Tipsy,” he hissed. “What are you doing here?”
“I is checking in on you, sir, as Mistress asked, sir,” she said nervously, twisting the hem of her pillowcase. “Mistress ordered Tipsy to tell her how you were Sorted, sir, and I is telling her you is Sorted into… into Gryffindor.” Her eyes widened.
“Mother said you weren’t to visit me,” he said as low as he could, desperately hoping James couldn’t hear.
“I is here to warn you, sir,” said Tipsy, rocking back and forth. “Mistress is very angry, sir. She is sending a Howler for Master Sirius for breakfast. I is not wanting Master Sirius to open his Howler… in front of Master’s new friends…”
Sirius swore under his breath. “Thank you for warning me, Tipsy,” he said, running his hand through his hair. “You haven’t done anything wrong. You may go.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Tipsy, and vanished with a crack.
“What was that all about?” asked James, who seemed unsure of whether to laugh.
“Just the family House-Elf,” Sirius said, trying to sound haughty instead of mortified. “How about those gobstones, then?”
“Yeah,” agreed James. “And look, I’ve still got some Chocolate Frogs from the train.”
Just then, the door burst open, and Peter Pettigrew came barreling in, sweating profusely.
“Where’s Remus?” Sirius asked him, looking over his shoulder.
“Professor McGonagall wanted to speak with him privately,” Peter replied nervously.
“Well, what happened?” asked James. “What did they do about the Slytherins?”
“I’m not sure,” said Peter. “It sounded like someone might get expelled.”
“Guess we’ll find out tomorrow,” James said, returning to gobstones. After a few rounds, he looked up at Sirius thoughtfully.
“I’ve just had a thought, Sirius,” he said. Sirius looked at him quizzically. “So, everyone’s thinking of you just as a Black, right? Like, part of this super dark wizard family.”
Sirius’s face darkened.
“But I know you’re not like them,” James went on, taking a bite of a Chocolate Frog.
“And what makes you so sure?” Sirius asked grimly.
“Well,” said James matter-of-factly, handing him a slightly melted Chocolate Frog. “For one, you’re covering for Andromeda for dating a Muggle-born even though your family won’t like it. For another, you’re sorted into Gryffindor, and they weren’t.”
Sirius’s stomach squirmed unpleasantly. The Hat hadn’t wanted to put him in Gryffindor. He busied himself opening the chocolate wrapper.
“But mostly, I can just tell you’re a good bloke,” James shrugged. “And you’re really funny,” he added as an afterthought. “Anyway, I was thinking. We should make a big impression on our first day. Something they won’t forget. Something that will make them think of you as, you know, Sirius Black.”
“What do you have in mind?”
James clambered off his bed and dug through his trunk. A moment later, he emerged with a firecracker in each hand. “I bullied father into getting me these,” he grinned. “What d’you say, Sirius? Should we start our year off with a bang?”
“Definitely,” said Sirius, his eyes glinting.
The door opened again. They looked up to see Remus Lupin peering in timidly.
“Where’ve you been?” James asked good-naturedly. “Was McGonagall giving you a private tour of the castle or something?”
“You know, she was,” said Remus mock seriously, striding to his bed and opening his trunk. “Wanted me to retrace all of my steps of the evening, right back to where I get back on the Hogwarts Express and go back home.”
“What, she didn’t think you had anything to do with the toad, did you?” James asked, looking at him with surprise.
“No, Peter and I told them what happened,” Remus answered. “They called in Professor Slughorn – he’s the Head of Slytherin House – and he brought one of the boys with him into the office. A Prefect by the name of Malfoy. Malfoy was in the train car. He didn’t do anything himself, but he just sort of watched while the other kids did.
“Malfoy spun up this whole story about how they must’ve accidentally stepped on it. Professor Slughorn backed him up. Professor McGonagall told me later they probably won’t be expelled, since Professor Slughorn believes him,” he added heavily, with an apologetic look at Peter, who looked distraught. “But I’m not sure Professor Slughorn actually believes his story. He gave the whole car detention for a month and threatened to take Malfoy’s Prefect badge.”
“You look like you could use some cheering up,” said James bracingly to Remus. “Would you like my firework? Sirius and I are going to set them off on the first day of classes.”
Remus raised his eyebrows in amusement. “Really? I’m flattered. But no thanks. Last thing I need is to end up in my Head of House’s office twice in my first two days.”
“But you were in her office for a good reason,” James said impatiently. “You were helping out a helpless student! You need to balance it out!”
“I appreciate it,” Remus said firmly, “But seeing as you only have two, I think you two should enjoy them.”
“Suit yourself,” James shrugged. He carefully laid the two firecrackers at the base of his trunk.
Sirius yawned loudly. “Well then, I’m going to bed. See you lot tomorrow.”
“Night, Sirius,” said James and Remus.
Later, behind his drawn bedcurtains, Sirius found that he could not quite fall asleep. His mind was buzzing. The day had started so well on the Hogwarts Express with James, Andromeda, and her friends, but he kept thinking about the looks on the Gryffindors’ faces as he’d made his way to his seat, and about what Savage and Patricia Rakepick had said about the Black family reputation. He even wondered, with a pang, if the rest of the boys chose the other room because they were afraid of him. Hadn’t Ryan Churchill said he was Muggle-born, and hadn’t Robinson looked nervously at him when he said that he was a Half-Blood?
Sirius shook these thoughts from his mind. Surely, he was overthinking things. Frank Longbottom had stood up for him, he reminded himself, and there was still Ted and Alice, too. Remus seemed all right. And James seemed certain – more certain, indeed, even than Sirius was – that Sirius belonged in Gryffindor.
One day, he resolved, this school would forget all about Bellatrix Black. Everyone would know who he was: Sirius Black.
Sirius felt comforted by this idea. He thought of the fireworks next to James’s trunk and smiled to himself, and with that he rolled onto his side and finally fell asleep.
Chapter 6: The Exploding Howler
Summary:
Sirius hears from his family. Hogwarts gets a fireworks show. (Happy 4th of July from the USA!)
Chapter Text
Chapter 6
The Exploding Howler
Maybe it was nerves, but Sirius awoke early the next morning. He was dressed before the others began to stir, and, with nothing better to do, he grabbed his schedule from the top of his trunk and scanned it. Today he had Charms, followed by two hours of Transfiguration. After lunch, they had Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, and – Sirius’s heart leapt – Flying.
He grabbed the “Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)” by Miranda Goshawk and “A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration” by Emeric Switch, stuffed them in his bag with a quill and some parchment, then carefully placed a firecracker on top. He made his way downstairs. The Common Room was mostly empty, with the exception of a few older students poring over their books and – sitting by the fire with her nose in a book – Lily Evans. Remembering how his father had always chastised him never to burn bridges, Sirius made his way over.
“All right, Lily?” He flashed his most charming smile.
Lily looked up from her book, her expression darkening.
“What do you want?”
“Seems like we got off on the wrong foot,” he said conversationally.
“And what would give you that idea?” she retorted coldly.
“Well, you snubbed me after the Sorting.”
“Snubbed?” her eyebrows shot up. “Bold of you to assume that I would want to sit next to you.”
“Oy, I’m here to apologize, all right? Can we just put our little disagreement behind us?”
“Sorry, which disagreement, Black?” she said hotly. “The one where you insulted my best friend, or the one where you called us both Mudbloods? Severus told me what that means.” Lily flushed, tears springing to her eyes.
Sirius felt himself turning red. “Hang on, I never called you that. That was my mother!”
“Fine, your mother then,” she scowled, looking back at her book.
“No, wait a minute, there’s a difference!” Sirius retorted indignantly. He heard footsteps and turned to see students trickling downstairs for breakfast.
“You pulled her into the shop when you found out my parents are Muggles!” Lily hissed, dropping her voice so the others wouldn’t hear.
“What?” Sirius’s mouth hung open for a moment. “No I didn’t, I was trying to stop her from blowing your parents to bits. Didn’t you see them arguing outside the shop?”
“What are you talking about?” snapped Lily, though she suddenly looked unsure of herself.
“Yeah, your parents had about thirty seconds left on this earth if I hadn’t pulled her away. Blimey, you thought I brought her inside so she’d say those things to you?”
Lily didn’t answer for a moment. She seemed to be struggling to find something to say. Then she said, “Well, you still insulted my best friend.”
“He deserved it,” shrugged Sirius, no longer in the mood to apologize. “Git had it coming. Should have minded his own business.”
“Right then,” said Lily hotly. “Well, thanks for your apology.”
“No problem, Princess.” Sirius gave her a little bow with sarcastic flourish. “See you at class, then, Evans.”
He grabbed his bag and stalked to the portrait hole. It wasn’t until it swung shut behind him that he realized that he didn’t remember the way to the Great Hall. As the Fat Lady was gone by the time he turned around, he irritably asked the nearest portrait – a fat knight on a pony – for directions. Perhaps it was because he was in such a bad temper, but he suspected that the knight hadn’t given him the most accurate route; it took much longer to get there than he remembered it taking the night before. Just as he began to worry about making it in time for breakfast at all, he found his way to the flagged stone Entrance Hall and then the Great Hall. It was nearly full of students.
“Where’ve you been?” asked James as Sirius sat down across from him.
“Got a bit lost,” Sirius admitted. “Wouldn’t hurt to have a map of this place.” He scooped some scrambled eggs onto his plate.
Just then, the owl post arrived. Hundreds of owls swooped through the windows and glided down to the students. Too late, Sirius suddenly remembered.
“Oh no,” he groaned. His mother’s great gray owl, Regent, swooped down and dropped a letter from Regulus and a Howler into his eggs. “I forgot.”
James stared at him in alarm. Then he shouted, “Hang on!” and dove into his bag, pulling out the firecracker. “I was going to save these for the hallways just before lunch,” he said. “You have yours?”
“Wait – yeah!” Sirius pulled the firecracker out of his bag.
“Alright, ready then?” said James, eyeing the Howler with trepidation.
“Hold on a minute, what’s the spell for fire again?” Sirius asked, panicking. He racked his brain; he knew Mr. Scrimgeour had covered this, but without a wand to practice with, he had never used it.
“It’s Incendio,” said James. “I looked it up this morning. I’ll go first.”
“All right, ready?” Sirius asked, holding the Howler in front of him. “One – two – three!”
He ripped it open and the students of the Great Hall turned as one as his mother’s magnified voice filled the Great Hall.
“SORTED INTO GRYFFINDOR, HOW DARE YOU DEFY YOUR FATHER AND ME –”
“Incendio!” shouted James. A few sparks flew from the end of his wand. “Come on – Incendio!” This time the spark caught, and the firework flew out of his hand and into the air, narrowly missing an owl that was on its way out the window. It exploded with a bang, drowning out Sirius’s mother’s screams.
“Brilliant!” Sirius shouted, but he couldn’t hear his own voice over the racket. He waited around ten seconds, then tapped his own firecracker. “Incendio! Incendio! Incendio!”
“– A THOUSAND YEARS. YOUR BROTHER –”
His mother’s screams were drowned out yet again with another volley of firecrackers.
“C’mon!” James was tugging the sleeve of his robe urgently. Sirius looked and saw Professor McGonagall storming over to their table. “RUN!”
Without thinking, Sirius grabbed his school bag and sprinted out of the hall after James. They tore through the Entrance Hall and up the stairs without looking back. They didn’t stop running until they ran through a tapestry, following a group of third years, and emerged in a passageway far from the rumble of the Great Hall. They staggered against the wall, clutching their chests, gasping for air. Sirius caught James’s eye. They both burst out laughing.
“Ruddy – brilliant –” Sirius managed, barely able to breathe between fits of laughter. James doubled over, tears streaming down his face.
“Wait, we have McGonagall’s class today,” James managed, and for some reason they both found this extremely funny. It was a full minute before they could pull themselves together.
Finally, James straightened, wiping tears from his eyes. “All right then, we should probably still try to make it to class. Let’s see,” he pulled a paper out of his pocket. “Charms, is it? Excuse me –” a gaggle of passing girls looked at him curiously. “Could you help us find the Charms classroom?”
Luckily, it wasn’t far. They jogged up two more flights of stairs and found the classroom. Students were still filing inside. Sirius and James sidled into the back of the group and slipped into the classroom with the rest. They grabbed seats next to each other, but Sirius didn’t dare look at James, lest he burst out laughing again. He struggled to regain his composure.
“Welcome to Charms!” squeaked a tiny professor in the front of the classroom, climbing to stand on a chair. “My name is Professor Flitwick. In this class, you will learn the fundamentals of spell-casting…”
Quills began scratching. Sirius hurriedly pulled his quill and parchment from his bag and smoothed it onto his desk. In the corner of his eye, he saw James do the same. His breathing slowed to normal. He tried hard to look studious.
Flitwick concluded his introduction and turned to the class, beaming.
“Today we will be starting with a simple spell,” Professor Flitwick squeaked. “It's a useful charm for camping, or winter nights when you would like a nice cozy fire.”
Sirius straightened. He turned his head slightly to look at James, unbelieving. James caught his eye, shaking his head slowly. Flitwick continued, “The spell is: Incendio!”
James and Sirius both exploded with laughter.
“I say!” said Professor Flitwick. “What on earth?” The class turned to look at them, some nervous, some amused. “What are your names?”
“I’m James Potter, sir,” James managed. “And this is Sirius Black.”
“Could you explain what is so funny, Mr. Potter?”
“Nothing, sir.” Sirius could see James struggling mightily to keep a straight face. “It’s just… a very useful spell, sir…” Sirius snorted and they both dissolved into giggles again. The rest of the class began to titter too.
“Perhaps you boys should step outside in the hallway, until you’re ready to join the class?”
“No, Professor!” James finally pulled himself together. “No, I can do it, watch.” He ripped his parchment and set it aside. “Incendio!” The paper burst into flames.
“Very good!” squeaked Professor Flitwick, suddenly excited. Sirius had the impression that he could not stay severe for long.
“Look, I can do it too, Professor,” said Sirius, ripping his own piece. “Incendio!” It erupted into flames.
“My my, I’ve never had two students able to perform that charm on the first go!” Professor Flitwick said excitedly. “Who else would like to try?”
The rest of the class was not so lucky. Only Lily Evans was able to make her paper smoke somewhat. As the class filled with desperate cries of “Incendio!” Sirius and James, bored, began lighting pieces of paper on fire and blowing them at one another. “Ow!” James said, as one singed a hole through his robe.
“Let’s work on a different spell, boys,” said Professor Flitwick hurriedly. “Try this: Aguamenti!” A thin stream of water shot from the end of his wand to where James’s robes were singed.
This one was not so easy. Sirius and James worked on it for the rest of class, only able to get a small trickle from the ends of their wands. “Come on,” said Sirius impatiently, looking at the clock. There were only two minutes left in class. “Aguamenti!” The urgency this time did the trick: the water blasted out of the end of his wand, directly into James’s face.
“Hey! Aguamenti!” James shouted back, and it was Sirius’s turn to take a pint of water to the face.
Soaking wet and laughing uproariously, James and Sirius made their way out of the class.
“Very good, boys, excellent!” said Professor Flitwick excitedly.
“Thanks, Professor!” shouted James over his shoulder as they walked down the hall.
Their smiles evaporated when they arrived at Transfiguration and saw the look on Professor McGonagall’s face.
“Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, I would like you both to see me after class,” she said severely. “Please find your seats.”
“Yes, Professor,” they said in unison, and exchanged nervous looks as they squelched down the aisle and found their seats.
Sirius had gathered from Remus that Professor McGonagall was not in Slytherin, as he had supposed from her green robes at the Welcome Feast, but was in fact the Head of Gryffindor House. He had the impression that she was not someone you wanted to cross.
Professor McGonagall introduced herself and her subject, Transfiguration, which dealt with changing one sort of thing into another. Their task for the day was to change a toothpick into a needle. James, Sirius noticed, had gotten very focused. Sirius glanced at James’s copy of A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration and noticed that it was dog-eared all the way through. After around fifteen minutes of concentration, James successfully pulled it off. He whooped loudly. Professor McGonagall strode over to his desk, eyebrows raised in disbelief, as she picked up his needle and examined it.
“Very good, Mr. Potter,” she said, looking from the needle to James and back again, impressed despite herself.
Sirius furrowed his brow and focused intensely on his toothpick as Professor McGonagall returned to the front of the classroom.
“You’ve got to sort of picture what it’s going to be, and what it is, at the same time,” James muttered to him. “Like, you have to see it for what it is, and really want and intend for it to be something else just a little bit harder than you’re seeing what’s there. Does that make sense?”
Sirius wasn’t sure, but he gave it a shot. He looked at the toothpick from end to end. It looked like a long wooden splinter. He examined it carefully. It was light brown, rough, sharp at the ends. Then he imagined a needle: shiny, sharper, with a little hole at the top. He willed it as hard as he could to become the needle. He needed it to become the needle, he couldn’t let James beat him out. He tapped it sharply, and with a small pop, the toothpick turned into the needle.
“I got it!” he shouted triumphantly.
“Preposterous,” said Professor McGonagall, returning. Sirius looked at her in surprise. She picked up the needle and examined it carefully, then looked back at James’s desk as though to ensure Sirius wasn’t trying to pass off James’s as his own.
“Gentlemen, please empty your pockets.”
Nonplussed, Sirius stood and emptied his pockets, placing his wrinkled schedule, a comb, a chocolate frog card, and a small bag of gold on the desk. James emptied his as well, placing the model Snitch, a chocolate frog wrapper, and an empty bag of Fizzing Whizbees.
Professor McGonagall’s beady eyes examined their wares.
“Mr. Potter, might you please demonstrate for me your transfiguration of this needle back into a toothpick?”
“I can try, Professor,” said James nervously. He stared at the needle for a long time, taking deep breaths. After a full minute, he tapped on it smartly. With a pop, it turned back into a toothpick. There were a few gasps and some applause throughout the classroom.
“Magnificent,” she muttered. “Twenty points to Gryffindor. Now you, Mr. Black.”
It was Sirius’s turn to be nervous. The whole class had turned to watch them. He looked at his needle and remembered what James had said. See it exactly as it was, and then want it to be something else with just a little bit more intensity. He examined the needle. It glistened in the light. It was perfectly straight, with a dangerous point. He thought of the toothpick – fine old wood, natural, with dull little points at the end, not so sharp that it would cut your mouth. Again, he willed it, feeling the eyes of his classmates on him. It had to turn into a toothpick. It must! He tapped it smartly, and with a pop, the needle transfigured back into a toothpick. The class applauded again, more confidently this time. Sirius grinned at James, relieved.
“Twenty more points to Gryffindor. I have never had a student successfully transfigure that toothpick into a perfect needle in the first thirty minutes of class before,” she said, thunderstruck. “And today I have two?”
Sirius felt a balloon of pride. He looked at James, who looked like he felt.
“Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, I would like you to work on a different assignment. The rest of you, keep on working on your toothpicks.” She procured two tennis balls from her desk drawer and gave one to each of them. “Work on transfiguring these into eggs. Don’t forget the shells, whites, and yolks.”
Giddy with their success, Sirius and James focused in earnest on their tennis balls for the remainder of class. Although they were unable to successfully turn them into eggs, Sirius was able to turn the outside into an egg-shaped shell (which he had excitedly thought was a real egg for a moment, until he cracked the shell and the tennis ball fell out), and James had gotten so far as to have a shell and some runny whites around the tennis ball, which looked like a fuzzy green yolk.
When the bell rang, Professor McGonagall held them back as the rest of the class left for lunch.
“Excellent class, Mr. Potter, Mr. Black,” she said. “I expect that level of effort and concentration every class, do you understand?”
“Yes, Professor,” they said at once.
“I do regret that I must still deduct twenty points from Gryffindor each for your behavior at breakfast.”
“But Professor,” said James furiously. “Those are all of the points we earned in class today!”
“You are lucky you aren’t both in detention,” said Professor McGonagall sternly. “Setting off fireworks in the Great Hall on the first day of classes? Absolutely unheard of.”
“We didn’t plan to,” said James, which Sirius knew was only half true. “You heard Sirius’s mum. She sent him a Howler on the first day of class! Just for getting Sorted into Gryffindor! What were we supposed to do?”
Professor McGonagall looked at James’s indignant face, and for a moment Sirius could have sworn that she was about to smile. “Be that as it may, Mr. Potter, it is absolutely inappropriate to disrupt the breakfast of your classmates with distractions like fireworks. Mr. Black,” she turned to him with a severe look, and Sirius wilted under her sharp gaze. “The same goes for you.”
“Yes, Professor,” he said meekly.
“You left this at your place,” she said, handing him the envelope from Regulus.
“Oh. Thank you, Professor.” He tucked it into his bag.
“You may both go. Consider this a first and last warning. Next time, it’s detention.”
“Thank you, Professor,” they replied in unison, and started down the hall before she could change her mind.
“And Mr. Black?” she called after him. Sirius looked over his shoulder. “A Howler may be contained with a simple Silencing Charm. The incantation is ‘Silencio.’ I suggest you practice it.”
“Yes, Professor,” Sirius said, breaking into a grin. He and James broke into a run until they made it back to the Great Hall.
“I’m starving,” said Sirius as they sat down for lunch next to Peter and Remus, who had his book open next to his plate. “I never got any breakfast.” He helped himself to a roast beef sandwich.
“What happened with Professor McGonagall after class?” Peter asked them worriedly.
“Nothing much. Said we did a good job in class,” replied Sirius lightly.
“She was looking for you after the fireworks at breakfast,” Peter pressed. “She looked really mad. You didn’t get detention?”
“Nope,” James shrugged.
“Wow,” Peter said, amazed.
“What’ve we got next?” asked Sirius to change the subject. “Defense Against the Dark Arts, right? With the blonde lady?”
“Professor Waldmeister,” corrected Remus, without looking up from his book.
“She looks young, doesn’t she?” James noted, looking at Professor Waldmeister at the teachers’ High Table. James was right; now that Sirius was looking, he realized that she couldn’t be much older than twenty-five years old.
“Didn’t Dumbledore say that she came from the Austrian Ministry of Magic?” Sirius asked, studying her. “She can’t have been there long.”
“Wonder what she did there,” James mused.
“Probably something junior,” Sirius replied dismissively. “She can’t’ve been there for more than six or seven years, she looks like she’s about twenty-five. Reckon she’ll do a good job teaching? Wonder what she’ll cover.”
“There’s a little bit of everything in the text,” said Remus, thumbing through the book he was reading. “Curses and counter-curses, hexes, dueling, disarming, shield charms, dark creatures and defenses against them…”
Sirius glanced over at the book with interest. “I could use some counter curses for the next time Bella comes to visit. Maybe some curses too.”
“Well, I reckon we ought to get our things so we’re not late to class,” said James briskly, standing. “Sirius, you need your books too, right?”
“Yeah, they’re back in the dormitory. I’ll come with you.”
They nearly were late, and the only remaining table was right in the front. Sirius and James grabbed their seats just as Professor Waldmeister stood up.
“Good afternoon, first years, and welcome to the Defense Against the Dark Arts,” she said, her hands clasped together in front of her. Sirius heard the faintest trace of a German accent, but he wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been listening for it. “I’m so pleased to join you this year at Hogwarts as your teacher. It is my opinion that Defense Against the Dark Arts is, far and away, the most important class you will take here at Hogwarts and it is my privilege to teach it. This year we will start with a section on dueling, including Disarming, Shield Charms, and Stunning, then a unit on dark creatures, and we will close out the year with curses and counter-curses. Does that sound good to everyone?” She smiled and the class murmured their assent. “Good. Before we start any magic today, I want us to take some time to get to know one another as a class. Let’s go around, and please introduce yourself by your name, your family background, and something interesting about yourself. Let’s start with…” she scanned the roster in front of her. “Black, Sirius, you’re first up.”
Sirius cringed. “Hi, I’m Sirius,” he began.
“Stand up!” Professor Waldmeister encouraged him with a smile.
Sirius wanted to roll his eyes but knew he couldn’t on his first day. He stood up and turned to face the room. “Hi, I’m Sirius.”
“And your family?” she prompted him. “And something interesting about yourself.”
“Well, my family’s the Black family, you might’ve heard about them.”
“Sorry, I’m from Austria so I’m not familiar with the families in Britain. What’s your blood status?”
“Pureblood,” Sirius replied. “And something interesting about myself…” he cast about for something, and his eyes settled on Ryan Churchill, the Muggle-born. “I like Muggle machines. Like, cars and motorbikes and stuff.”
“Do you now?” asked Professor Waldmeister with a sweet smile.
“Yeah, I nicked a motorbike once to try to take it apart and see how it worked,” Sirius said honestly. “I put it back when I was done,” he added hastily, as Professor Waldmeister’s smile became rather fixed.
“That is interesting,” she said. “Let’s see, next is Lucy Bones?”
A tall, thin girl with dark hair stood up. “I’m Lucy Bones, pureblood, and over the summer I visited Egypt.”
Ryan Churchill was next. He explained that he was Muggle-born and related to someone important in the British Muggle government, and when Professor Slughorn showed up to explain about Hogwarts, MI-5, a kind of Muggle secret police, tried to arrest him because they didn’t know how he’d gotten in their living room without them seeing. The class roared with laughter as he described how Professor Slughorn made flowers pop out of the front of their weapons.
Caleb Coote, slightly pink at having to follow that story, quickly shared that he was also Muggle-born and had played football on a select team.
Next was Lily Evans, but instead of introducing herself she said, “Excuse me, Professor Waldmeister?”
“Yes?” said Professor Waldmeister kindly.
“Why do we have to share our blood status? It doesn’t seem like it should matter.”
Professor Waldmeister’s smile flickered. “I didn’t instruct you to share your blood status, I asked you to share your family background.”
“You asked him to share his blood status.” She gestured at Sirius.
“I was just trying to get the conversation going,” Professor Waldmeister said smoothly. “You don’t need to share your blood status if it makes you uncomfortable.”
Evans hesitated, then said, “I would… I would feel more comfortable if nobody shared their blood status.”
Professor Waldmeister’s eyebrows shot up.
“It’s just that… well… it’s sensitive, isn’t it?” Evans pressed on. “I haven’t been in the wizarding world for more than a week, so maybe I’m missing something, but already someone nearly attacked my family, just because they are Muggles.”
Sirius frowned, staring hard at his parchment.
“Oh my goodness,” gasped Professor Waldmeister, bringing her hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry you had that experience.”
“I agree with Evans, Professor,” James piped up next to him. Evans turned to him in surprise. “Maybe we could just say something interesting about ourselves? It shouldn’t matter whether we’re pureblood or not.”
“Fine then,” said Professor Waldmeister cooly. “Miss Evans, would you please share something interesting about yourself?”
“All right. My name’s Lily, but my favorite flower is a rose.”
The introductions went more quickly after that. Evans’s comments seemed to have had a chilling effect, and the rest of the students shared quickly about their favorite foods, sports, or their pets at home.
After Michael Robinson shared his interesting fact (his favorite dessert was baklava prepared by his grandmother), Professor Waldmeister stood and began writing on the blackboard.
“All right then, now that we know each other,” she said briskly, “let’s get started with some basic dueling. Please find a partner and a spot in the room.”
Sirius and James picked a spot near the back of the classroom. For the first half hour, the class reviewed dueling etiquette, selection of seconds, and wand-drawing techniques. Sirius, who had memorized these for Mr. Scrimgeour at the age of six, hoisted himself onto the windowsill and yawned, bored. At long last, they were able to try some magic with a basic Disarming spell. Sirius and James faced off.
“Expelliarmus!” Sirius shouted, and a jet of red light zoomed past James as he jumped out of the way. “Stay still, I need to see if it’s working!”
“I’m not staying still!” James retorted. “Expelliarmus!”
Sirius ducked and the spell flew directly over his head, hitting the wall behind him.
Sirius parried with another Disarming Spell, which James avoided by diving behind a desk.
“Aguamenti!” James shouted, shooting the spell over his desk. The jet of water caught him squarely in the chest.
“Hang on, that’s cheating! Aguamenti!” Sirius shot a jet of water out of his wand, too, and found that if he concentrated, he could widen the stream of water to a blast.
“Boys! Disarming only!” said Professor Waldmeister, hurrying back to them. “Expelliarmus!” she shouted. James and Sirius’s wands flew from their hands and into Professor Waldmeister’s.
“All right, we’re going to split you two up,” she said. “Miss Evans, Miss Meadowes, you two come over here,” she called to the nearest dueling set. “Mr. Black, you will be practicing with Miss Meadowes. Mr. Potter, you will practice with Miss Evans. Disarming only.” She handed them back their wands.
“Yes, Professor,” said James. He turned to Evans. “Look, Evans, I’ll go easy on you –”
“EXPELLIARMUS!” Evans shouted, and James staggered backwards at the force of the spell, his wand flying in a high arc into Evans’s hand.
“Wait, I wasn’t ready!” said James, turning red.
“Fine, here’s your wand back,” said Evans cooly.
“Right then,” said James, taking it and lifting it.
“EXPELLIARMUS!” She shouted again, and the class laughed as James was knocked fully to the ground, his wand sailing into Evans’s hand again.
“On my count,” said Professor Waldmeister sternly. “Give him his wand back, here.”
Sirius turned to his partner, Dorcas Meadowes, who was watching the scene next to them with amusement.
“Ready, then?” Sirius said loudly, feeling vaguely annoyed. Dorcas, still looking entertained, turned to Sirius and raised her wand in the ready position.
Professor Waldmeister counted. “One, two three!”
“Expelliarmus!” Sirius and Dorcas shouted at the same time. Sirius danced out of the way just in time, but Dorcas was struck in the hand. Her wand sailed to Sirius.
“Here you are,” Sirius handed it back to her. “Again?”
By the end of class, everyone was slightly sweaty and out of breath from dueling, but it was with high spirits that they left for History of Magic.
History of Magic was taught by the ghost Professor Binns, who looked so old that he rather resembled a wrinkled old tortoise, and it was far less exciting than the rest of their classes had been so far. He droned on from his notes about goblin rebellions, old wars, and dates. Sirius yawned and looked around the class. James and Peter had nodded off. Remus was valiantly trying to take notes, his head dropping occasionally. Evans was fast asleep, head on her chest. Periodically, she would awaken with a start, jot down a date, and fall back asleep. Despite his valiant efforts to stay awake, Sirius soon fell totally asleep. When the bell rang, he jolted awake with a start, grabbed his bags, and blearily made his way to the door.
Finally, they had their last class of the day, which Sirius had been looking forward to the most: flying. To his dismay, they arrived to the field to see a cluster of students in green and silver robes waiting. They must be sharing this class with Slytherins.
As they approached, he realized that he recognized nearly all of them: there was Francis Crabbe, he had seen him at some family gatherings. Phineas Avery, a slight fellow with a sulking face, stood next to Mordrey Mulciber. They stood apart from the group, speaking in low voices, and scowled at him as he approached.
Rebecca Lestrange nodded at Sirius in greeting. He tipped his head slightly.
“All right, Black?” called Marcus Flint, who was standing with Evan Rosier.
“Flint, Rosier,” Sirius replied cordially. “You two keeping up your Quidditch game?”
“I’ve gotten out of practice since we used to play,” Rosier said with a grin. “Looking forward to getting back on a broom.”
Sirius felt his fellow Gryffindors looking at him curiously.
Regina Nott and Queenie Rowle, two very pretty girls Sirius had also seen at his aunt and uncle’s, stood apart from the rest, looking distastefully at the brooms lined up on the ground. Queenie looked Sirius up and down and whispered something to Regina that made her giggle.
Snape hurried forward to greet Evans, who seemed very happy to see him.
The only Slytherins Sirius hadn’t met were two girls standing awkwardly off to the side. One, who had a face like a pug, must be a Bulstrode. Sirius was pretty sure he heard a Bulstrode called at the Sorting. The other girl, Sirius remembered, was a Carrow. She had a narrow, mean face.
“All right there, Snivellus?” called James loudly. Snape shot James a poisonous look. Evans scowled at James. Several of the Slytherins looked at one another, eyebrows raised.
“All right, everyone, find a broom,” said Madam Hooch, a hawklike woman with yellow eyes.
Sirius scanned the brooms and picked one that had fewer twigs sticking out at odd directions than the others. James was several spots down. Snape and Evans had chosen brooms all the way on the end. They seemed to be trying to get as far from James as possible.
Once everyone had chosen a broom and lined up, Madam Hooch stood in front of them. “Now,” she commanded them, “hold your hands over your broom and say ‘Up!’”
“Up,” Sirius said, almost lazily, and the broom leapt into his hands. He looked around. While James, Flint, Rosier, Crabbe, and Dorcas were holding their brooms, the rest lay resolutely on the ground. He let out a short impatient sigh. He wished he could move on to flying.
“All right then, come on, try again.” Madam Hooch called. Sirius looked around, bored, while shouts of “up!” echoed around him. He caught James’s eye and they exchanged exasperated looks. At last, after several minutes, almost everyone was holding their brooms with the exception of Snape and Peter.
“For those of you that have your brooms, you may go ahead and mount,” said Madam Hooch. “I’ll work with these two.”
James mounted and kicked off. “Race you to the Whomping Willow, Sirius!”
“No flying!” called Madam Hooch, but it was too late. Sirius, Flint, and Rosier had all kicked off into the air, tearing after James towards the Whomping Willow. Sirius and Flint leveled, neck-in-neck, shooting after James. Slowly, they gained on him. The willow tree was sitting quietly on the grounds – it was a breezeless, sunny day. Sirius urged his broom forward. It started to vibrate under the strain of the speed. He pulled ahead of James, who put on a burst of speed, reaching a spot about twenty feet above the willow, followed closely by Sirius, Flint, and Rosier. James whooped loudly, looping victoriously.
“Wait a minute, didn’t Dumbledore say to stay away from the willow?” said Flint suddenly.
“We’re way above it,” said James dismissively. “I don’t think there’s any way – whoa!” One of the long, thin branches of the willow swung by him like a whip. “All right, maybe we should go a little higher!”
Sirius looked down. The willow had awoken and was swinging its branches upward. Though they were too high for the thick branches, it was snapping its thin tendrils up in the air, straining to slap them off their brooms.
“Ow!” Flint was knocked several feet sideways.
“Get up!” Sirius shouted, pointing his handle upwards and straining to get out of the reach of the branches.
He heard Rosier swear, and looked down in time to see Rosier, slapped downwards several feet by the leaves, now directly in range of one of the thicker branches. “ROSIER, LOOK OUT!” he shouted.
Rosier turned in time to see the branch hurtling towards him. He jerked upwards just in time, the branch swinging lethally beneath his broom. But he wasn’t fast enough to dodge the branch swinging from the other side. In a moment, it snapped the tail of his broom cleanly off.
In a flash, so quickly Sirius didn’t see how it happened, James was next to Rosier, whose broom handle was bucking and spinning wildly. James grabbed Rosier by the robes and yanked him onto his own broom, dodging branches as he weaved upwards, shooting into the sky in a blur of color.
Sirius and Flint cheered loudly, flying up to meet them. Rosier looked pale and shaken but unharmed.
“Nice one, James!” shouted Sirius. He pivoted his broom and flew back towards the class.
They made it halfway back before they encountered Madam Hooch midair.
“I said no flying!” she shouted at them. “You! What happened to your broom?”
“It wasn’t his fault, Madam Hooch,” said James quickly. “We were high above the willow, but somehow it got the bottom of his broom.”
“Get back to the ground, now!” she said angrily.
They swooped to the class on the ground. “What happened, Evan?” Rebecca Lestrange asked Rosier worriedly as he jumped off James’s broom. Rosier looked sheepish.
Madam Hooch landed, her face distorted with fury. “Where did you say your broom is?” she demanded.
Rosier mumbled something indecipherable and pointed towards the Whomping Willow.
“Do you mean to tell me that one of the school brooms has been destroyed by the Whomping Willow?”
“Yes,” said Rosier ashamedly.
“And I will be sending the bill home to your parents,” Madam Hooch fumed. “They’re lucky I’m not sending back the body of their son! How on earth did you end up on Potter’s broom when yours was destroyed?”
Rosier looked at his hands, embarrassed.
“Well?” she said, looking from Rosier to James.
“I grabbed him, miss,” James said.
“You grabbed him?”
“The willow snapped his broom so I just sort of grabbed him.”
“In midair?”
James looked to Sirius and Flint for support.
“It’s true, Madam Hooch,” Flint confirmed.
A small murmur of admiration rippled through the class. Snape, Sirius noticed, looked exceptionally sour-faced.
“That’s quite impressive,” Madam Hooch said begrudgingly. She looked conflicted. “You have still broken the rules and destroyed school property. Fifty points each from Gryffindor and Slytherin.”
Sirius, James, Flint, and Rosier groaned.
“You will lose flying privileges for the remainder of the class,” she continued. “Please make yourselves comfortable on the ground.”
They exchanged disgruntled looks and walked a little way away, throwing themselves down on the grass.
“So, Rosier, is it?” asked James.
“Evan Rosier,” he replied, shaking his shaggy hair out of his face. “You can call me Evan.”
“Marcus Flint,” Flint said. “Mark is fine.”
“Guess you can call me Sirius now, then,” Sirius said to them, leaning back and putting his hands behind his head.
“And I’m James Potter,” James said, leaning back on his elbows. “So, what about that tree, eh?”
“Totally crazy,” Mark agreed. “What was Dumbledore thinking planting that thing at a school?”
“To be fair, he did tell us to stay away from it,” James said reasonably. “Hang on, look at this.”
He sat up and pointed in the direction of the brooms. The class had taken off into the air, weaving wobbling circles over the field about ten feet in the air, but Snape remained on the ground. He was still trying to get his broom to leap into his hand. At long last, he caught it. Snape cast a nervous look at the class in the air, then climbed on his broom and kicked off.
“Look at him,” James sniggered.
“Nice flying, Snape!” shouted Evan sarcastically.
“Keep it up, Snivellus!” James hollered. “You’re doing great!”
Madam Hooch swooped down to them. “If you keep it up, you’ll be banned from flying lessons,” she called angrily.
“He was going on this morning about how he’s related to the Prince family,” sneered Evan once she had gone. “It looks like he’s never even been on a broom before.”
“Do you think you’ll try out for the Quidditch team?” Mark asked James. “That was some impressive flying.”
“Yeah, I think I’ll try out,” said James casually. “You?”
“Definitely.”
“Guess we’ll be enemies then,” James grinned. “Hey, look at this.” He took the model Snitch out of his pocket. “Want to play?’
The four boys chased the model Snitch around the grounds until Madam Hooch blew the whistle to end class. They chatted amicably as they made their way back up to the castle and parted ways when they reached the Great Hall to make their way to their respective tables.
Chapter 7: The Fifty Point Mission
Chapter Text
Chapter 7
The Fifty-Point Mission
The teachers were in lively conversation at the High Table, and Sirius noticed that they kept looking in his and James’s direction.
“What do you suppose they’re talking about?” Sirius asked as he ladled tomato sauce onto his penne pasta.
“Taking bets on how long you’ll last, I reckon,” came a voice from behind them. Remus sat next to Sirius, smiling. “Seems like you two are trying to set a record.”
“Nah, they wouldn’t kick us out,” said James confidently. “We didn’t even get detention.”
“No, you just lost us fifty points from Gryffindor,” shot an annoyed voice from down the table. Evans had set down her fork and was watching them with intense dislike.
“Relax, Evans, we’ll earn them back.”
“We will, will we? Look! We’re down to negative twenty points!”
Sirius looked at the number over the giant magical hourglass that measured House points. Evans was right.
“Relax, all right?” James said, though he looked worried. Other students were beginning to check too, then stared at James accusingly.
“Hey, first year, don’t mess it up for the House,” called an older boy irritably.
“I didn’t even know it was possible to get negative points,” said a girl down the table sadly.
“All right, look Evans,” James said loudly. “We’ll earn them back. Me and Sirius. Tomorrow.”
“That’s right,” Sirius called confidently.
Evans raised her eyebrows skeptically. The older students muttered to one another, glancing at James and Sirius and shaking their heads. They finished their meal in silence and ducked out of the Great Hall as quickly as possible.
“So, how are we supposed to earn fifty points in a day?” Sirius asked as soon the door closed behind them.
“No idea,” James replied. “But we managed to lose seventy points in one day, didn’t we? Seems like we should be able to earn back fifty.”
“What do we have tomorrow?” Sirius pulled his crumpled schedule out of his pocket. “Looks like double Potions with Slytherin, Astronomy, then History of Magic after lunch.”
“Excellent. My dad’s a potioneer, that’s got to count for something.”
“And I’ve been taking astronomy since I was six,” Sirius added.
“All right, I’ll help you with Potions, and you help me with Astronomy, how about that? We only need to get twenty-five points each. That’s just five more points than Professor McGonagall gave us for turning the toothpick into a needle.”
“That was twenty points to both of us, though,” Sirius pointed out.
“Right.” James thought for a moment. “We’ll have to sit apart tomorrow, then. It seems like we’re more likely to get points separately if it doesn’t look like we’re working together.”
The Common Room was nearly empty, with most students still at dinner. James and Sirius grabbed their textbooks from the dormitory and settled into the big winged armchairs closest to the fire. They pored over their books for the rest of the evening, occasionally asking a question or offering a comment. Although Sirius, in addition to studying astronomy, had been making potions since he was six, he had used a different textbook (which he rarely took the time to read), and Sirius was surprised to find that there was a lot of new information to learn.
They didn’t head upstairs until nearly midnight. Peter and Remus were already snoring, and moments after Sirius threw himself on his bed and closed his eyes, he was asleep.
What felt like a few minutes later, James shook him awake. “Come on, Sirius, we’ve almost missed breakfast!” Light was pouring in through the windows, and Remus and Peter’s beds were empty.
Sirius swore and rolled out of bed. They sprinted to the Great Hall with their cauldrons held out in front of them. Scarcely had they grabbed bagels from the serving dish when the rest disappeared from the table.
As they sprinted into the Entrance Hall, they were brought up short by an unusual scene. Floating in the air was a little man with wickedly slanted, orange eyes, wearing a bell-covered hat and an orange bow tie. He was pelting water balloons at passing students, who were squealing and dodging him.
“Stop it, Peeves!” one girl yelled, leaping to the side as a balloon exploded water all over the ground.
“Better hurry up, or you’ll be late to class!” Peeves taunted them.
Sirius and James sprinted through the hall and to the stairwell leading down to the dungeons.
“What was that?” James asked an older student who was thundering down next to them.
“That’s just Peeves. The poltergeist. Always seems to turn up when you least want him to,” the boy said, annoyed.
They made it to Potions just in time. Remembering that he and James decided to sit apart, Sirius sidled up next to Remus as they filed into the classroom. “Want to grab a table together?”
Remus smiled in surprise. “Sure!”
In the corner of his eye, Sirius saw James striking up conversation with Caleb Coote, Michael Robinson, and Ryan Churchill.
“Let’s sit up front,” Sirius said, grabbing a table right by the teacher’s desk. He set up his cauldron, opened his book, and sat with his quill at the ready. He checked his schedule again, taking note of the professor’s name. James and Caleb sat at the table next to them.
The door opened, and a pudgy man with gingery-blonde hair and an enormous walrus-like mustache entered.
“Good morning, Professor Slughorn,” Sirius said immediately, sitting up straight and folding his hands on his desk. He heard James echo him.
This had the intended effect. Professor Slughorn smiled widely. “Heard of me, I see!” he said jovially. “Very good, very good, though not surprising. A very good morning to you, too, Mister…?”
“Black, sir,” Sirius replied.
“Ah, another Black! Are you Cygnus’s boy, or Orion’s?”
“Orion is my father, sir.”
“I remember him well. Works with Gringotts now, does he?” he asked shrewdly.
“Yes, sir. He’s head of the division on curses and counter-curses.”
“He always was a very talented student. I taught your mother too, you know. Powerful witch.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you are?” he turned to James, who had also greeted him.
“James Potter, sir.”
“But you must be Fleamont’s son!” Professor Slughorn cried in delight. “One of my early mentors. Dear man. Brilliant, too – invented the Sleakeazy Potion!”
“Yes, sir.”
“I have high expectations for you. Let’s see if you inherited your father’s talent!”
“I hope so, sir.”
“Now, let’s see, who else do we have?” He hurried over to his desk and grabbed the attendance sheet.
Roll call lasted at least twenty minutes. Professor Slughorn stopped after familiar names with small exclamations: “Still sends me chocolates every Christmas!” “I taught your cousin, he’s brewing for the Department of Mysteries now, I taught him everything he knows.”
“Well, now that we know each other,” Slughorn began, satisfied, “Let us begin. This,” he procured a small vial from inside his robes, “is called Felix Felicis. Who knows what the purpose of this potion is?”
“It’s a good luck potion,” James said at once. “Liquid luck. If you drink it, you will have one perfect day.”
“Very good! Ten points to Gryffindor. But remember to raise your hand!”
When Slughorn wasn’t looking, Sirius saw James turn in his chair and smirk at Evans, who was sitting next to Snape several rows back. She rolled her eyes at him.
“And does anyone know the key ingredients to brew this potion?”
“The potion includes Ashwinder eggs, Murtlap tentacles, and Occamy Eggshells as the central ingredients,” Sirius replied without raising his hand. “It takes around six months to brew.”
“Excellent! Take ten points to Slytherin.”
“I’m a Gryffindor, sir.”
Professor Slughorn did a double take. “Are you really?” he asked, thunderstruck. “I’ve never met a Black who wasn’t in Slytherin. What a shame!”
“I’m happy in Gryffindor, sir.”
“Well, well. My apologies, I am biased in favor of my own House. A Black in Gryffindor,” he chuckled. “That certainly is a surprise. I can’t imagine your mother is too pleased. That’s ten points to Gryffindor, then, I suppose.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Where was I? Ah yes, Felix Felicis. Liquid Luck. I enjoyed this once, when I was twenty-four years old. It was an absolutely perfect day.” A dreamy look came over his face. “Lucky for you, in March I began a new batch, and it’s just ready for the new school year. Today, a lucky student will have the chance to bring some home!”
Sirius watched him with renewed curiosity, no longer feigning interest. Beside him, Remus sat up straighter.
“This assessment is intended to ascertain your existing aptitude in Potions. Have no fear! I will provide you with detailed instructions. If you follow them precisely, there is no reason why you shouldn’t find success. Today we are brewing the Wiggenweld Potion. Does anyone know what the Wiggenweld Potion does? Mr. Lupin?”
“It heals minor injuries,” Remus answered.
“Very good, five points to Gryffindor. It may also reverse the effects of a sleeping draught. The first pair to finish wins Felix Felicis! And, of course, I recommend that you all keep your Wiggenweld Potion. You never know when you might need it!” He turned and began scribbling on the blackboard. “Help yourself to the ingredients in the Potions cupboard.”
Sirius leapt up and hurried to the cupboard, getting there before the others because his seat was closest. As Slughorn finished writing each ingredient, Sirius piled them into his arms. He hurried back to his seat and dumped them on the table.
“Right,” Sirius said crisply, pushing half of the pile to Remus’s side. “I’ll measure out these ingredients, and you measure those.”
There were hardly any words spoken for the next hour as the class concentrated on brewing the potions. “Hang on, you have to stir counterclockwise before you add the Billywig sting slime,” Sirius hissed to Remus, after seventy minutes of brewing, but it was too late. “Oh no, sorry,” Remus said, turning red.
“I think I read about a way to reverse that, hold on.” Sirius thumbed frantically through his book. By the time he found the page and fixed the mistake, they were behind by several minutes.
“We’ve finished!”
The class groaned and looked at the owner of the voice: Lily Evans. She and Snape were standing by their cauldron, positively beaming.
“Astounding!” Professor Slughorn hurried over to their table and examined their potion. “With fifteen minutes still left! Let’s see, twenty points each to Gryffindor and Slytherin.” Evans shot a victorious look at James over Slughorn’s shoulder. “And, of course, a vial each of Felix Felicis. It’s only about an hour’s worth – use it wisely!”
“Professor, can we get points for our House if we’re finished?” asked James quickly. “We’ve just finished, too.”
“What? Really?” Slughorn walked to James and Caleb’s cauldron and examined it. “It’s a shade too dark, but it will do the trick. Take five points to Gryffindor.”
“Each?” James pressed. “Evans and Snape each got points.”
“Yes, sure, five points each,” said Slughorn.
“Thank you, sir,” James said. Slughorn turned back to Evans and Snape. “Twenty!” he mouthed at Evans.
“But your potion is the perfect shade,” he said happily to Evans. “Let’s see if it works. Does anyone have any injuries?”
“My cat scratched me,” offered Dorcas Meadowes, pulling up her sleeve to reveal a long red mark on her dark skin.
“Let’s try it out, then.” Slughorn ladled some of the potion out of Evans and Snape’s cauldron and trickled it onto Dorcas’s arm. “Full marks!” he cried as the red line disappeared. “What are your names again? Let’s see…” he checked his roster. “Lily Evans and Severus Snape. Well done.
“The rest of you have around ten minutes to try to finish your batch. I have spare bottles in the cupboard, help yourselves, you don’t want to miss the opportunity to stock up on Wiggenweld!”
Sirius and Remus successfully produced their potion within the last few minutes of class. “Here you go,” Remus said, handing Sirius an empty glass bottle. Remus filled up two and carefully corked them.
“Just in time!” said Slughorn, jotting on his parchment. “Full marks.”
Astronomy met in the tallest tower. The room was pitch black, lit only by the soft glow of stars: the ceiling was enchanted to look like the night sky. “Often we will meet at midnight, but I figured that this will do for the first day,” said Professor Celeste Caelum cheerfully. “Now, who can name this constellation?”
“That’s the constellation Orion,” Sirius answered swiftly.
“Five points to Gryffindor. Can anyone name the seven most prominent stars in the constellation Orion?”
“Rigel, Betelgeuse, Bellatrix, and Saiph are the brightest,” Sirius replied without waiting. He was determined to catch up to James. “At the center lies the three stars of Orion’s belt: Alnitak, Alnilam, and Mintaka.
“Very good. Take ten points to Gryffindor Mister… let’s see… ah. Sirius Black.” She looked up knowingly.
“Thank you, Professor,” Sirius said quickly. He caught James’s eye, who flashed him a smile and a thumbs up. “Twenty-five!” Sirius mouthed.
When they finally sat down for lunch, Sirius looked at the giant hourglasses. Gryffindor’s was now at fifty-five points. “Oy, Evans!” James called down the table. “Sirius and I earned forty-five points so far today. You happy now?”
“Funny, I seem to recall you promising that you’d earn fifty,” Evans replied tartly.
“Come on, forty-five points in a day is good!”
“It’s not bad,” she said. “But it’s not fifty.”
James rolled his eyes at Sirius. “Can you believe her?” he asked in a low voice.
“I dunno, mate, seems like you still need to earn five more points before dinner.”
James ran his hands through his hair, looking strained. “But we’ve got History of Magic next…”
James was right. The ghost of Professor Binns droned from the moment they sat down until the sound of the bell jolted them awake.
“Bad luck, James,” Sirius said briskly as they walked towards the front doors after class. “At least we’ve got the afternoon off.”
“Yeah,” he said, brightening somewhat. “Do you want to try to find that cave we sailed into before our Sorting?”
“Definitely.”
James and Sirius had to walk the full perimeter of the lake before they found the boats, stored on a rack a little way into the woods. They dragged one down to the lake, glanced around, then climbed in and kicked off the shore.
“Let’s see… forward!” James yelled. Nothing happened. “Uh… forward!” Still nothing. They drifted further from the shore. “Are there paddles or something?” James asked anxiously. They searched the boat.
“I’ll have to jump out and pull us back to shore,” James declared, seeming to make up his mind. He jumped out of the boat. Sirius expected him to land waist-deep in water, and was shocked when the water rushed over his head. A moment later, James’s head popped up. “It’s deeper than I expected! Throw me the rope.”
Sirius unwound a rope from the stern of the boat and tossed it into the water. James wrapped it around his wrist and started kicking toward the shore. “I guess we should have thought of paddles before we – ARGH!”
“What’s wrong?” called Sirius worriedly.
“Something just touched my leg! It felt like a – GIANT SQUID!” Sirius spotted a massive squid tentacle unfurling out of the water six feet to James’s left. James swam frantically back to the boat, kicking furiously.
“Grab my arm!” Sirius heaved him out of the water and back into the boat. The giant squid bumped into their boat, hard, rocking it from side to side. James sprung up, dripping wet, taking out his wand.
“What’re you going to do with that? We only know like two spells,” started Sirius, before shouting, “I’ve got it!” He took out his own wand and stuck it in the water at one end of the boat. “AGUAMENTI!”
The boat jolted forward as through propelled by a motor. Swiftly, they glided to shore. As soon as it bumped against the grass, Sirius leapt out, splashed waist-deep in water, and heaved the boat onto shore.
“What’re you two doin’?” came a voice. They turned guiltily to see the giant Hagrid striding towards them.
“Nothing,” they said in unison. Sirius was very aware that he and James were both sopping wet.
“Yeh look scared. Is everything all right?”
“We just decided to take out a boat,” replied James honestly. “There’s a giant squid in there. It attacked me!”
To Sirius’s surprise, Hagrid let out a guffaw. “Inky? Attack yeh? Playin’ with yeh, more like. Come on, let’s get yeh dried out. My hut’s righ’ this way.”
Sirius and James exchanged nervous glances. Hagrid was at least as tall as two men and four times as wide. He was certainly part giant, Sirius surmised. Every other story he heard as a child featured a hero threatened with death or dismemberment by giants. Sirius didn’t know how he felt about following him into his cabin alone. But hadn’t Hagrid been trusted to sail them across the lake?
“You two comin’?” he called.
James shrugged and ran after him. Sirius hesitated, then followed.
Hagrid’s hut sat a short distance from the Whomping Willow, where Evan Rosier had almost crashed. Hagrid led them through a garden twined with large vines, with a sizable number of giant orange pumpkins scattered across the ground. A cool breeze flapped against Sirius’s wet robes, and goosebumps sprung up on his legs. He glanced at James, who was shivering.
“C’mon in,” said Hagrid. He swung open the door and a massive St. Bernard came bounding out. “Easy, Brutus! He won’ hurt yeh.” The dog jumped up and ferociously licked Sirius’s face. Sirius grinned despite himself and heaved the dog off him. Inside the cabin, Hagrid bustled around the hearth. A moment later, a fire was roaring. “Care for some tea?” he offered. “I jus’ took the kettle off when I seen yeh on the lake, it won’ take long.”
“Yes, please,” James said politely.
“Here yeh go.” He tossed a scratchy blanket to James and then to Sirius, who wrapped it around his shoulders gratefully. Hagrid started the tea kettle. “So, firs’ years, eh? Yeh know me, I’m Rubeus Hagrid, but everyone calls me Hagrid. Gamekeeper and Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts.”
“James Potter,” James said. “And this is Sirius Black.”
“A Black, eh?” Hagrid said darkly, surveying Sirius from under his eyebrows. Sirius shivered. “I saw yer Sortin’. Caused a bit o’ a stir, you bein’ sorted into Gryffindor. I taught three o’ yer cousins, an’ I went to school with yer parents and yer uncle. All in Slytherin.”
“Yes, sir,” Sirius replied, unsure of what else to say.
“Can’ imagine yer folks are too pleased. Whole line o’ dark witches and wizards and their son’s a Gryffindor.”
Sirius shifted uncomfortably.
“Course, nuthin’ says a Gryffindor can’ be interested in the dark arts, too,” Hagrid added, looking at him out of the corners of his eyes.
“Sirius isn’t interested in the dark arts,” James interjected. “Are you, Sirius?”
“Can’t say it’s particularly caught my interest, no,” Sirius said in what he hoped was a casual voice, though he was eyeing Hagrid warily.
“What House are you, then?” Hagrid asked, turning to James.
“I’m in Gryffindor with Sirius.”
“Hm.” Hagrid looked from James to Sirius suspiciously. “And what were yeh doin’ on one o’ my boats?”
“We were trying to get to the caves we sailed into before the Sorting,” James replied, somewhat sheepishly.
“And what’d yeh plan to do when yeh got there?”
“I dunno,” James shrugged. “Explore.”
“Alright then, yeh do sound like a couple o’ Gryffindors,” Hagrid said, a smile suddenly visible behind his bristly beard. The kettle let out a faint whistle, and Hagrid busied himself in the kitchen. A moment later, he turned to them with two steaming mugs of tea. “Make yerself at home,” he said with a new cheerfulness. “The fire oughta dry you off at least enough to make it back to the castle withou’ catchin’ your death. On yer first week, too. How’re things goin’ so far?”
“Well, we lost seventy house points yesterday,” James replied, sipping his tea.
“Seventy points! On yer first day? I think tha’ might be a record. What did yeh do?”
“Well, we earned twenty, so technically we only lost fifty,” corrected Sirius. He glanced at Hagrid. “We set off a volley of fireworks at breakfast and then we crashed into the Whomping Willow during flying lessons.”
“That’ll do it,” Hagrid said, raising his bushy eyebrows. “What on earth did yeh do all that for?”
“Well, Sirius’s mum sent him a Howler, so we had to drown it out somehow, didn’t we?” James said earnestly. “And we didn’t mean to crash into the Whomping Willow. It crashed into us, more like. And anyway, we earned back the points today.”
“I earned back the points today, you mean,” Sirius interjected. “You still have five points to go, if memory serves.”
“All right then, Sirius earned back his twenty-five, but I’ve only earned back twenty. And Evans isn’t going to let it rest unless I get back all twenty-five.”
“Yer five points short?”
“Yeah,” James said, defeated. “And classes are done for the day, so… wait a minute!” he looked up at Hagrid with renewed interest. “Can you award house points, by any chance?”
“I s’pose technically I can…” Hagrid began.
“Well, that’s excellent! I thought I was done for, for sure.” James jumped up. “What do I need to do? Name your price.”
“I beg yer pardon?”
“Do you need me to weed your garden? Feed your dog? Come on, I only need five more points,” James pleaded.
“Very interestin’,” Hagrid said, his eyes twinkling. “I do have some work to be gettin’ on with, now that yeh mention it. I got a fence that needs mendin’, and Professor Slughorn asked me to help him harvest some Potions ingredients, I was gonna do that Monday, I need ter go into the Forbidden Forest for those and yer s’posed to harvest them the day after the full moon. Wouldn’ say no to a couple o’ pairs of helpin’ hands.”
“Sirius and I can do it,” James said at once.
“Oy! I’ve already earned back my points!” Sirius said, setting down his tea.
“Oh, come off it, you’re coming with me,” James said dismissively. “We’ll be back here Monday, Hagrid. Let me check… our first class is at 8:30, can we get here at 6?”
“Sure, if yeh mean it.”
“But – can you please give me the points now? I need to earn them back by dinner.”
Hagrid eyed him suspiciously. “What d’yeh need them today for? Yer not tryin’ ter pull one over on me?”
“No, I give my word. Sirius and I will be back Monday morning at six. I just need the points by dinner, or Evans will say I didn’t make up my lost points.”
“Who cares what this Evans bloke has to say?” Hagrid asked gruffly.
“Evans isn’t a bloke,” Sirius said with a pointed look at James, who turned slightly pink.
“Ah,” Hagrid said, with a knowing look. “Right then. If yeh give yer word – yer word as Gryffindors… six in the mornin’ on Monday?”
James nodded.
“All righ’. Five points to Gryffindor, then.”
“Thanks, Hagrid!” James said brightly, jumping up.
Chapter 8: A Message from Bella
Chapter Text
Chapter 8
A Message from Bella
That night at dinner, Sirius’s exceptionally pleasant day was disrupted in a most unwelcome fashion. As he stepped into the Great Hall, his mother’s gray owl, Regent, swooped from the ceiling and followed him across the Hall. He was clutching at least seven letters. As soon as Sirius found his seat, Regent dropped two onto his lap. Sirius watched as Regent soared to the Slytherin table and glided down the table, dropping the remaining letters at various places. He looked at the letters in his lap. One was from Regulus and – his heart sank – the other was from Bellatrix.
He ripped open Bellatrix’s letter first, his heart pounding with dread, his face darkening as he read. He threw it onto the table, scowling.
“What’s that all about?” James asked, eyeing the letter. Remus sat down across from them, trailed by Peter.
“It’s from my cousin,” Sirius said shortly. He didn’t feel like discussing it – his stomach was writhing as though full of worms. He looked over at the Slytherin table. Several of the upperclassmen were looking menacingly in his direction.
James, however, didn’t seem to notice - his attention suddenly focused on the doors to the Entrance Hall. Sirius followed his gaze. Evans and Snape were striding into the Great Hall, deep in conversation. James sprung to his feet.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” he said distractedly, and hurried towards them.
“Is everything all right?” Remus asked, frowning at Sirius. “With your cousin, I mean.”
Sirius swallowed. “It’s fine. Better than you look, anyway. Do you think you might visit the hospital wing? You look like you’re getting worse.”
“I’ll give it another day,” said Remus, taking a bite of roast beef. “I might give it a visit if I’m still feeling bad on Sunday. Do you know if James got the rest of his points?”
Sirius turned. James was talking spiritedly to Evans, while Snape stared daggers at him.
“We did, actually,” Sirius replied, turning back to Remus and cocking an eyebrow. “It took some light bribery, but he got there.”
James headed back to them.
“Sirius was just telling me that you sold a kidney for your last five points,” Remus quipped as James sat down.
“Not too far off,” James said, spooning some pumpkin soup into his bowl. “But at least Sirius and I get to go into the Forbidden Forest.”
“Really?” chimed in Peter, intrigued. “I thought that was off limits to students.”
“We’ll be going with Hagrid.” James indicated towards Hagrid, who sat at the High Table. He was chatting with Madam Hooch and Professor Waldmeister.
“Hagrid? The giant? Isn’t he a bit… wild?” Peter said doubtfully.
“He seems nice enough,” shrugged James. “He had Sirius and I for tea earlier.”
Remus and Peter raised their eyebrows in surprise.
“He caught us in the lake,” Sirius explained, taking a bite of bread. “There’s a giant squid in there, by the way. Very dangerous.” He winked at James.
“So, I let Evans know we recouped all of our points,” James said quickly, changing the subject. “Told her I expected a full apology. She refused, of course.”
“Snivellus, three o’clock,” Sirius muttered. James turned to see Snape, pale with rage, stalking over to their table. As he neared, something about the look on his face made Sirius stand abruptly, taking out his wand. James stood as well, turning to Snape with an easy smile.
“Snivellus, to what do I owe –”
“Where is it?” Snape hissed, grabbing James by the collar with both hands.
“What’re you –?”
“I know it was you. Where is it? The Felix Felicis! I know you took it.”
“Hands off, Snivellus,” Sirius said dangerously, pointing his wand at Snape.
Snape pulled James’s face an inch from his own. “I said where is it, Potter?!”
“Don’t know – what you’re talking about,” James choked.
“I said hands OFF,” Sirius barked, and a few sparks flew from the end of his wand.
Snape gave Sirius a look full of venom and roughly let go of James with a snarl. “It was in my pocket when I came in. You took it. When you came to talk to Lily.”
“I didn’t take anything, you great greasy git!” James shouted indignantly, catching his breath.
“Sev, what’s going on?” Evans had come over, arms crossed across her chest.
“He took it,” Snape spat, pointing an accusing finger at James. “The Felix Felicis. It was in my pocket when we came into the Great Hall. After I sat down, I realized it was gone. He’s the only one who could have taken it!”
Evans turned accusingly to James. “Did you take Sev’s Felix?”
“What? No!” spluttered James.
“Then empty your pockets,” sneered Snape. “Go on.”
“I don’t have to empty my pockets for you,” James glowered. “I didn’t take it.”
“Everything all right?” came a jovial voice. Professor Slughorn had come to the table. He clapped a hand on Snape’s shoulder. “No Slytherins at the Gryffindor table. Sorry to break up the party.”
“Potter stole my Felix Felicis, Professor,” Snape said immediately.
“I did not!” James retorted.
“What’s that?” Professor Slughorn looked from Snape’s livid face to James’s indignant one. “Potter stole it? Did you steal Snape’s Felix Felicis, Potter?”
“He’s just making it up!” James exclaimed angrily.
Professor Slughorn turned back to Snape. “Snape, I will have no more of this nonsense. You might not know this, but Potter’s father is a famous potioneer. If Potter wanted some Felix, he could just ask his father for some.”
James glared at Snape.
“Now,” Professor Slughorn continued, “I must insist that you return to the Slytherin table, or I shall be forced to dock points from my own House. Miss Evans, you may also find your seat.”
Snape stared furiously at James for a long minute, then turned on his heel and stormed back to the Slytherin table. Evans sat down at the end of the table, casting concerned looks after him.
“He’s crazy, that one,” said James, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Potter, Professor McGonagall wishes to speak with you after dinner,” Professor Slughorn said with a paternal smile, turning to him. “You too, Black. Nothing to worry about, I’m sure, but please stop by her office once you are finished eating.”
“Yes, sir,” James said, exchanging a curious look with Sirius.
James and Sirius sat back down. “Snape looked right unhinged,” James commented, looking over at the Slytherin table. “Thanks for backing me up, Sirius.”
“You’ll need to watch your back with that one,” Sirius said, watching Snape darkly. “There’s something off about him.”
“Hope we learn some hexes from Professor Waldmeister,” James mused.
“Snape should better hope we do,” growled Sirius. “I couldn’t decide whether to blast him in the face with water or to light him on fire.” Sirius stabbed his chicken and took a fierce bite. “Oily git, he’d light up like a lantern.”
“He could use a bath, too,” James said, but it didn’t sound like his heart was in it, and Sirius saw James cast an uncomfortable look at him. James’s eyes drifted down to the open letter in front of Sirius. “You got a letter from Bellatrix?” James asked, and Sirius thought he heard an accusing note in his voice. “I thought you didn’t really speak with her.”
“I don’t,” said Sirius shortly, shoving the open letter into his pocket.
“Did she really put that kid Savage’s girlfriend into St. Mungo’s?” Peter interjected. “What exactly did she do?”
“No idea,” said Sirius curtly.
“Oh. So, what did she write you about?” James asked in a would-be casual voice.
Sirius met James’s accusing stare and held it for a long beat. Finally, James’s expression faltered, and he looked down at his plate.
“Same as mother,” Sirius said cooly. “I suppose my dear little brother was visiting my uncle’s estate today and said something to them about my being Sorted into Gryffindor. Just a bunch of empty threats.” Sirius winced as he heard his voice shake, giving himself away. Bellatrix, he knew, didn’t make empty threats.
“What kind of threats?” James asked.
Now it was Sirius who couldn’t meet James’s eyes. “I’m not worried,” he lied.
He ate the last of his dinner and stood up. “Well, we ought to get to McGonagall’s office. Does anyone know how to get there? I’ve just realized I have no idea.”
“Peter and I know the way,” answered Remus, who had been watching them in silence until now. “We could show you.”
“Excellent,” Sirius said. “You ready to go, James?”
“Yeah, hang on.” James slurped down the rest of his soup and sprang up.
In the corner of Sirius’s eye, he saw several older Slytherins stand up, staring at them. As the four boys made their towards the entrance, the Slytherins began to swiftly walk towards them. Sirius carefully took his wand from his pocket, holding it at the ready. Just as they reached the entrance, the Slytherins intercepted them, blocking their way. Sirius recognized one of them as Rabastan Lestrange. The first years stopped. Remus shot a wary glance at Peter, who recoiled from them fearfully.
Sirius raised his chin defiantly. “Begging your pardon. Seems like you’re blocking our way.”
Sirius saw Peter look desperately in the direction of the High Table.
“Interesting friends you’ve made,” growled Rabastan, his eyes lingering on Peter in amusement.
“What’s it to you?” Sirius said haughtily. “I guess you make it your business to worry about first years? Seems lame.” He sidestepped them, pushing his way past.
A second Slytherin blocked him with a snarl. In a flash, he grabbed Sirius’s left hand and pressed something into it. “A message from Bella,” he said menacingly.
Sirius looked down. In his hand was a large gold coin. Emblazoned on the coin was a symbol Sirius had never seen before: a skull, crowned with stars, with a snake protruding from its mouth.
“And what is this supposed to mean?” Sirius snapped.
“It means you better watch your step, Black. You’ll be hearing from us again.” The Slytherins parted, and Sirius walked through. He heard Peter squeal behind him and turned quickly. The Slytherins were laughing maliciously, but Peter appeared to be unharmed. Sirius turned and walked quickly away, James right behind him.
Remus strode until he was even with Sirius. “Professor McGonagall’s office is this way,” he muttered, pointing down a hallway. He looked at Sirius out of the corner of his eye. “Those are the guys that killed Peter’s pet toad.”
Sirius looked back at Peter. He was still pale.
“Bella would be friends with cretins like that,” Sirius spat. “She’s been terrorizing me since I was a little kid. Psycho, she is. I don’t have anything to do with her.”
“You don’t have to defend yourself,” Remus said gently. “It’s obvious you don’t get along.”
Sirius looked over at Remus’s haggard face. It was strange for someone his age to wear an expression Sirius associated with people much older. “Thanks, Remus,” he mumbled gratefully. “And what about you?”
Remus smiled wanly. “What about me?”
“What’s your story?”
“My story.” Something flickered on his face. Then he raised an eyebrow. “Very boring. Totally uneventful.”
“No evil cousins to speak of?”
“No evil cousins,” Remus replied drily, with a trace of a smile.
“You get along with your folks?”
“Oh yeah. I told you about my dad – he studies boggarts – and my mum’s a Muggle. We moved around a lot, so they homeschooled me. We’re pretty close.”
“That must be nice.”
“I’m very lucky. All right, we’re here.” Remus stopped in front of a door that was slightly ajar. “See you back in the Common Room?”
Sirius and James watched Remus and Peter’s retreating backs, then James knocked timidly on the door.
Professor McGonagall’s voice answered. “Come in. Ah yes, Mr. Potter. And Mr. Black. Have a seat.”
James and Sirius nervously sat across from her desk. Professor McGonagall surveyed them carefully.
“I daresay you have both had an eventful first week,” she said, looking at them over her glasses.
Sirius fidgeted nervously. Next to him, James was playing with the sleeve of his robe distractedly.
“Hagrid has shared with me about your little adventure with the giant squid. And Madam Hooch was just telling me about your run-in with the new willow.”
“We’ve already had points docked,” James protested weakly.
“Yes,” Professor McGonagall said tersely. “I noted that Gryffindor was at negative twenty points at the end of the first day of classes. I can’t say I have ever seen that before.”
“But we earned them back! Me and Sirius.”
“So I’ve heard. Professor Slughorn was telling me about your successful brewing of the Wiggenweld Potion on your first day. And Professor Waldmeister noted that you both demonstrate exceptional dueling skills. And Madam Hooch,” she surveyed them both closely over her square glasses. “Madam Hooch described how you, Potter, pulled a classmate off their broken broomstick in midair and managed to dodge the Whomping Willow in your flight back to safety. And that the classmate you rescued was a Slytherin, no less.”
“Yes, ma’am,” James said meekly.
“Have you ever considered playing Quidditch, Mr. Potter?”
“Professor?” James and Sirius looked at each other in surprise.
“The Gryffindor Quidditch team is short a Chaser. If your flying is as good as Madam Hooch describes, you might be well suited. Tryouts are in two weeks.”
“Yes ma’am!” James said enthusiastically.
“Mr. Potter, you may go. I should like to have a few words with Mr. Black.”
Sirius felt his palms start sweating. Whenever his father had dismissed Regulus from the study when they were both in trouble, it usually meant that Sirius was in for a painful evening.
James hesitated by the door, looking at Sirius. “Professor, the fireworks were mine,” he said suddenly. “Shooting them off at breakfast was my idea. And I was the one who told everyone to race me to the Whomping Willow. Sirius didn’t do anything.”
“Thank you, Mr. Potter. You may go.”
“But Professor…!” he protested.
Professor McGonagall’s eyes flashed and James fell silent. He cast one last desperate look at Sirius, then closed the door behind him. Professor McGonagall turned to Sirius.
“Mr. Black.”
Sirius gulped.
“It has come to my attention that you have received a certain communication from a former student. Are you aware of the communication to which I am referring?”
“I got a letter from Bellatrix,” Sirius said. “Just today. How did you…?”
“We are aware of all communications that pass through this school.” She raised her eyebrows. “And the content of the letter? What did she say?”
“She said… she said that I’d shamed the Black family name because I had been sorted into Gryffindor.”
“I surmised as much. That was roughly the communication in the Howler you received, yes? At least, that is what I was able to gather from what was discernible.”
“Yes, Professor.” Sirius’s heart was pounding.
“I imagine such communications may be serving as a distraction from your studies.”
Sirius didn’t say anything.
“Mr. Black, I want to communicate to you personally that you are most welcome in Gryffindor house. It is not unheard of for the child of a family with an affinity for a particular House to be sorted into another.”
Sirius blinked in surprise.
“I also wanted to inform you that I intend to write your mother to remind her of Hogwarts’s policy on Howlers, which enforces of a limit of one Howler per year per student maximum. I will also communicate that you are doing well in Gryffindor thus far, and that if she has any concerns about your academic performance that she may reach out to me directly.”
“Yes, Professor.” A wave of gratitude rushed over him. “Thank you, Professor.”
“I also gather that you demonstrated not just a little talent at flying yourself. It wouldn’t hurt for you to try out for Quidditch as well.”
“I’ll consider it, Professor.”
“Thank you, Mr. Black. You may go.”
“Yes, Professor. Thank you, Professor.”
Sirius made his way back to the Gryffindor Common Room with a new lightness in his step. No more Howlers from home would be a relief, and he was surprised at how comforting he had found Professor McGonagall’s words of welcome. He wondered how she knew about Bellatrix’s letter. At the thought, a pang of guilt interrupted Sirius’s happy mood. He hadn’t lied to Professor McGonagall about the letter, exactly. Bellatrix had said that Sirius had disgraced the name of Black. But that wasn’t all she said. Sirius suddenly remembered the coin in his pocket. He took it out, and examined the skull and snake emblazoned on it. You’ll be hearing from us, they had said. Sirius shivered, looked over his shoulder, and hurried the rest of the way to the Common Room.
Chapter 9: The Curse
Chapter Text
Chapter 9
The Curse
That weekend, James and Sirius brought Remus and Peter back to where they found the docked boats in the woods, and together they dragged one across the dirt and pushed it into the lake. They clambered in, mostly avoiding soaking their robes, and Sirius and James manned the stern, propelling them forward with Aguamenti, while Remus called out directions from the front, trying to find the entrance to the caves, which was hidden with a curtain of vines.
After bumping clumsily into the face of the cliff several times, they finally found the entry point, and the boat glided through the green vines under the arch of the stone.
When they docked, it was very difficult to see. The torches that had been lit on the night of their Sorting had been removed, and the caves had an echoing, dark, creepy quality that they had lacked upon first impression. The boys tried unsuccessfully to explore the caves, but with such limited light, they soon abandoned the venture, resolving to return with some kind of light source. They scrambled up the narrow passageway which emerged near the front steps, taking note of the hidden entrance for future use, then entered through the front doors to get lunch in the Great Hall.
After lunch, they meandered the halls, trying doors at random but finding many of them locked, and searching behind tapestries for hidden passageways. Finally, the four boys returned to the Common Room, where James retrieved “The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1” to look up the incantation used to pick locks.
They whiled away the afternoon practicing magical lock picking on their dormitory door. Once they all had the hang of it, Remus and Peter took up a game of gobstones at a small table while James and Sirius lounged on the couches, thumbing through their spell books looking for other useful spells for making mischief.
“Here’s one, a Summoning Charm. That would be useful in a pinch, wouldn’t it?” James mused.
“Look, this one turns your wand into a torch, we could’ve used that in the caves,” Sirius said, circling it in his text.
“This one turns carpets all springy, let’s try it.”
The last spell was a raging success, and Remus and Peter stopped their game of gobstones to join Sirius and James who were leaping onto the carpet in front of the fire and bouncing six feet into the air. Before they knew it, the afternoon had faded to evening and it was time for dinner.
Sunday was much less eventful. Remus had finally gone to the hospital wing, having apparently continued to feel beneath the weather, and Sirius and James went to ask Madam Hooch if they could borrow school brooms, but after their escapades the previous week, she wouldn’t let them near the broom shed. So, Sirius and James settled for walking aimlessly around the grounds, hoping to find something interesting.
They remembered their promise to help Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest early the next morning, so they responsibly tucked in early, before Remus and Peter had returned. This time, Sirius remembered to unpack his golden alarm clock and set it on his bedside table.
Early next morning, Sirius awoke at five fifteen. Peter was still snoring, and James was sitting on the edge of his bed, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Remus’s bed, Sirius noticed, was empty, but the blankets were still smooth. Sirius frowned, feeling a pang of worry. He must not have come back from the hospital wing.
Twenty minutes later, Sirius and James crept down the stairs, bags packed with the morning’s books, and slipped out of the portrait hole. Once outside, they began chatting loudly and racing each other down the hallways. They arrived at Hagrid’s a few minutes before six.
Hagrid opened the front door, still holding a mug of tea in his hand. “All righ’, yeh came. Good. I got most o’ the things Slughorn needed over the weekend, but I still need unicorn horn. It’s supposed to be collected at sunrise. It’s jus’ a short hike to the unicorn grazing area, there’re usually a few horns lyin’ around. He needs abou’ a dozen, and they got to be collected between 6:15 an’ 6:45 this morning. I appreciate yeh two helpin’.”
James and Sirius exchanged excited looks. Sirius had never seen a unicorn in real life, although they had always fascinated him. They traipsed into the woods after Hagrid. After a few minutes, they came upon a small clearing in the wood. A spring trickled water down a narrow stream into a small pool in the center of the grass. To Sirius’s disappointment, there were no unicorns nearby.
“Righ’, here’s one,” Hagrid said, stooping over and pulling a partially-buried horn from the dirt. “You two go on the other side and see what yeh can find.”
Sirius and James walked to the other side of the spring, scanning the ground closely. “Found one!” Sirius said, grabbing one from the bottom of the pool.
“Me too!” James said, disentangling one from some weeds at the base of a tree.
They silently filled their pockets with horns. After twenty minutes, Sirius had found five and James had six. “Let’s collect a few more,” James said under his breath, with a glance at Hagrid, who was searching a short distance away. “I’d like some.”
It was difficult to find another, but eventually Sirius unearthed one several yards into the trees. He handed it to James.
Just then, a shout tore through the woods. “Hagrid! HAGRID! Come quick! HAGRID!” It was a woman’s voice coming from the direction of the school. It sounded panicked and scared.
Hagrid stood abruptly. “You two stay here,” he commanded, and without another word he sprinted off through the trees.
“It sounds like someone’s in trouble,” James said nervously. “D’you think we should go and help?”
“Hagrid said to wait here,” Sirius replied uncertainly.
James took out a pocket watch and checked the time. “Well, it’s already seven o’clock. We’ll need to head back for breakfast anyway.” He hesitated a moment, then said, “Come on, let’s see if we can help.”
They made their way back through the forest. Orange sunlight was spilling through the branches of the trees, and birds were beginning to sing overhead. James stopped abruptly, throwing out his arm.
“Look at that,” he whispered. Sirius looked in the direction James was staring and breathed in sharply. There, a few yards into the trees, stood a unicorn, radiating a brilliant white light. Standing at her side, nuzzling her shoulder, was a small, golden-colored foal. The boys stood, transfixed, as the mother licked the foal’s face. She caught sight of them, and slowly lifted her head, seeming to study them intently. Then, in a flash of silver, the mother and foal were gone.
James and Sirius emerged from the woods feeling cheerful and calm. Sirius scanned the grounds. “No sign of Hagrid. Come on, maybe he’s in his hut.”
But Hagrid’s hut was empty. Through the window, they could see Brutus whining at the door. James and Sirius counted out eleven unicorn horns and placed them in front of the door. James pocketed one. Then, there was nothing else for them to do except walk back to the castle.
Hagrid never came to breakfast.
“We’ll have to check on him at lunch,” James resolved, as they walked to the greenhouses for their first Herbology lesson.
Herbology was shared with Hufflepuff and was taught by Professor Sprout, a young, squat woman with a cheerful face and flyaway hair. For their first class, they were learning about the Whomping Willow.
“It is quite a rare plant,” Professor Sprout explained excitedly to the class. “Very rare and very dangerous. Traditionally, it is planted to guard treasures, and rumor has it that there are even some that have survived underground in the tunnels at Gringotts. Whomping Willows are endemic to the Forest of Dean, but it is very difficult for them to reproduce, given that saplings must grow far enough from the parent plant to avoid accidental destruction, and the willow reproduces after its fallen branches take root in the soil. Herbologists theorize that this difficulty has selected for the most violent breeds, because the branches are flung sufficiently far from the parent plant to survive independently. It is quite exciting that Hogwarts has acquired a Whomping Willow this year. I will be collecting fallen twigs and branches throughout the year, in the hopes that we might propagate more of this highly valuable tree.”
As they walked back to the castle from the greenhouses, Sirius peered at Hagrid’s hut. The windows were still dark, and there was no smoke coming from the chimney.
The second Defense Against the Dark Arts class continued with dueling, much to Sirius’s delight, with a concentration on the Impedimenta hex, which freezes the opponent for a few moments while the dueler prepares a more effective attack. Professor Waldmeister kept James and Sirius separated, to their disappointment. Sirius looked around for Remus until he remembered that he was still in the hospital wing, and in those few moments James had paired with Penny Peakes, the only other person who didn’t have a partner besides Peter Pettigrew, who was eagerly trying to catch Sirius’s eye.
Sirius reluctantly joined Peter for a duel. Peter still had not mastered the Disarming Charm from the previous lesson, much less the Impediment Charm, and while it was fun for a while to practice disarming and impediments on Peter (it was rather funny to see him stagger back and fall over and over), eventually Sirius became bored and, thinking that Peter’s usual partner Remus would be kinder, decided to use the time coaching Peter on the proper execution of a Disarming Charm. Sirius was satisfied when Peter managed a decent Disarming Charm by the end of class and, in celebration, challenged him to a duel. Sirius promptly beat him again, but it felt somewhat fairer now that Peter could at least do one spell.
In Transfiguration, on the other hand, Professor McGonagall sent James and Sirius to the back of the class together and instructed them to turn to chapter five, and to use the time on Switching Spells while the rest of the class continued attempting to transfigure a toothpick into a needle. By the end of class, they were able to switch their quills into each other’s, with minor errors; Sirius’s black raven-feather quill still retained several white streaks from James’s eagle-feather one. Professor McGonagall seemed satisfied, however, and told them that they would continue with Switching Spells for the rest of the week.
As soon as Transfiguration finished, James and Sirius each grabbed a roll of bread from the Great Hall and jogged down to Hagrid’s hut, taking bites of bread as they ran. A thin wisp of smoke was coming from the chimney. They hammered on his door.
“Come back later!” Hagrid called gruffly through the door.
“Hagrid, is everything all right?” James called.
There was a moment’s pause, then the door swung open.
“Thank goodness yer all righ’!” Hagrid said, his face awash in relief. “I spent the whole mornin’ lookin’ for yeh in the Forest. I was worried somethin’ got yeh. I told yeh to stay put!” he added, suddenly stern.
But James and Sirius were standing with their mouths hanging open. Hagrid’s great form filled the whole doorway, and everything from his great tangled beard to his vest and pants were soaked in blood.
“Hagrid – what happened?!” James asked, horrified. “Are you hurt?”
Hagrid looked down at his clothes, as though just remembering that he was covered in blood.
“Nah, I’m fine. Everything’s fine now. We had a right scare, yeh mind.”
“What about the woman? Was she all right? Who was she?” James asked worriedly.
“Never you mind. She’s fine. She just needed a bit o’ help.”
“Then what’s all that blood, Hagrid? Is it from an animal?” James peered at him in concern.
“Summat like that. And what about you?” Hagrid asked, suddenly angry. “I told yeh to stay put! Had me worried yeh’d been attacked by summat.”
“We had to go to class,” James said reasonably. “And we wanted to see if we could help.”
“Yeh shouldn’ be pokin’ around,” Hagrid said furiously. “I shouldn’ have asked for yer help with the unicorn horns. It was stupid o’ me.”
“Hang on, we were useful, weren’t we?” Sirius said indignantly. “We only dropped about eleven horns at your door.”
“Yeah, we liked helping you, Hagrid!” James said earnestly. “We got to see the Forest, that was really cool!”
“I’m grateful to yeh for the horns,” Hagrid conceded. “I don’ reckon I’ll take you two into the Forest anytime soon, not after that scare.”
“Come on, Hagrid,” James wheedled. “We promise we’ll listen next time. What else is in the Forest?”
“Lot o’ different stuff that’ll kill yeh, that’s what,” Hagrid said darkly. “Now yeh two oughta get back to class, mind. Don’ be late on account o’ me. I do appreciate your help, though. An’ feel free to come back for tea.”
Hagrid smiled at them through his bloody, bristly beard. Without fully knowing why, Sirius felt a sudden surge of affection for him.
“Yeah, I think we will come back,” Sirius said, shaking his hair away from his face. “Thanks.”
Hagrid waved them goodbye with a smile and shut the door.
“I wonder if he fought the animal off,” James wondered aloud. “Maybe he even saved that lady.”
“I can’t believe we just visited a giant,” said Sirius slowly, “who the last we saw was running towards a screaming lady, and who is now, without explanation, covered in blood. And he invited us to tea, and I really think we ought to go, because I’m totally convinced he’s harmless. Does that make any sense at all?”
“It makes total sense,” James replied.
“All right, I’m glad you think so. Because I can only imagine the look on my mother’s face if she knew.” They neared the castle doors. “You know what? That Hagrid character, whatever he did this morning that got him drenched in blood… I have to admit. He seems pretty hardcore.”
At dinner, James and Sirius looked for Remus, but he was still missing. “That’s it,” James said decisively. “We need to visit the hospital wing. He’s been gone since yesterday morning.”
However, they got no further than the entrance to the wing. The hospital matron, Madam Pomfrey, intercepted them in the hallway outside the wing.
“No visitors today,” she said shortly.
“We just want to check on our friend,” James said stubbornly.
“I suppose you’re here to visit Miss Hawthorne? Her boils ought to be resolved by this evening.”
“No,” James said, frowning. “Our friend is Remus Lupin. Isn’t he here?”
“Oh! Begging your pardon.” She seemed flustered. “Yes, he’s here too. He’s quite ill, I’m afraid. He’ll be back when he’s in better condition.”
“Can’t we at least see him?” Sirius asked, annoyed.
“No visitors today. I will let him know that you came to visit.”
“What about tomorrow?” James asked.
Madam Pomfrey shut the door in their faces.
It wasn’t until Wednesday night, during their first Astronomy class at midnight, that Remus returned. While Sirius was waiting in line for the telescope, the door to the classroom cracked open, and Remus slipped in.
“Remus!” Sirius hissed, walking over to him and clapping him on the shoulders. “Where the hell have you been?” Remus flinched and pulled away.
“My God, he’s alive,” came James’s low voice from Sirius’s right. “How have you been? We tried to visit. Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t even let us see you.”
“She told me,” Remus said, looking abashed. “You really didn’t have to visit… I didn’t expect…”
“Well, you just disappeared, mate,” Sirius said.
“Yeah, we were worried something bad happened to you,” James added.
“Shhh!” hissed a girl from the telescope line.
“Are you feeling better, at least?” Sirius asked worriedly, dropping his voice.
“Blimey, Remus, you’ve even got Sirius Black worried,” James said, and in the moonlight, Sirius could see James smiling. “Does this guy look like he ever gets worried about anything?”
“No, he doesn’t,” Remus agreed. He looked both embarrassed and pleased. “I’m fine, though. Worried about catching up on what I missed, mostly.”
“You’ll be fine, it was a piece of cake,” James said reassuringly.
“Right, the class is still stuck on transfiguring toothpicks,” Sirius began, “but we did learn a few new dueling spells –”
“Gentlemen, please respect the silence,” said Professor Caelum. “Ah, Mr. Lupin. Feeling better, I hope? Good. Mr. Black, I believe it’s your turn at the telescope…”
The next morning at breakfast, with Remus back at the table, Sirius was in high spirits. Remus certainly looked better than he had been, although he still looked somewhat tired. Sirius attributed that to how hard he had been studying – when Sirius awoke for breakfast, Remus was already sitting by the fire in the Common Room, poring over his books, and he spoke very little at breakfast. Sirius glanced at Remus’s book – he was writing in the margins of “The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1.”
“At least we’ve got flying again today,” Sirius said cheerfully to James. “I hope we’re allowed back on the brooms.”
“She can’t keep us grounded forever,” James said confidently. “And it would be great to get back on a broom. Quidditch tryouts are in two weeks.”
“You think you’ll go for it, then?” Sirius asked with interest.
“Are you kidding? Definitely. I mean, it’s not Seeker, but it’s a start! And my dad promised that if I make the team, he’ll buy me a new broom.”
“I think I might try out, too. What d’you reckon?”
“Brilliant! Imagine if we both made the team. That would be great.”
Sirius smiled, but didn’t point out that there was only one position open on the team.
Later that day, their hopes were realized when Madam Hooch confirmed that they were allowed back on their brooms. The rest of the class were gliding comfortably now, except for Snape and Peter, who both seemed hesitant to fly too high from the ground. To Sirius’s and James’s delight, Evan Rosier had brought a Quaffle-sized ball so they could play two on two Quidditch, Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Once they found their places, the rest of the class watched with interest. Snape, on the other hand, descended wobblingly to the ground, dismounted his broom, and stared menacingly at them from the grass.
The Gryffindors erupted in cheers when James feinted a charge at Evan, causing him to drop the Quaffle in alarm. James easily looped beneath him and grabbed the Quaffle, then passed it quickly to Sirius, who sped it across the invisible goal line. Their game drifted higher and higher, and Sirius enjoyed the thrill of the class’s applause when he pulled off a twenty-foot dive with the Quaffle in hand.
“James, it’s yours!” he called, passing it to where he knew James would be. A loud groan from beneath him told him it was a miss. Mark caught it some twenty feet below. “Oy, James -!” The words died in Sirius’s mouth as he saw James’s face, alight with alarm. James’s broom had frozen in midair and was jerking erratically.
“Something’s wrong with my broom!” James called. He sounded nervous, almost panicked.
Sirius looked from James’s broom to the ground below. It was nearly a fifty-foot drop.
“Come on, James, just get a little closer to the ground.”
“I can’t! It’s like it’s not even – HEY!” The broom suddenly dropped twenty feet and began bucking violently, like a bull trying to throw off its rider. James was pale and scared, clutching onto his broom as tightly as he could. The broom pitched wildly, and James was thrown off the seat. He was hanging on only by his hands.
“Sirius!” he heard a voice shout at him. Remus pulled up next to him. “Sirius, look at Snape!”
Sirius looked down at the ground. Snape was still standing on the ground, staring straight up at them. Sirius squinted. Snape’s lips were moving without stopping, and he wasn’t blinking.
“That’s a curse,” Sirius snarled. “I’ll kill him.”
Without another thought, Sirius jerked his broom downward and leaned forward, rocketing like a bullet at Snape. Several students screamed and jumped out of the way. Snape, whose eyes were fixed on James, didn’t see Sirius until it was almost too late. With a yelp, he dove to the ground just in time, Sirius’s broom handle missing his head by inches as he zoomed over him.
Sirius skidded to a stop and leapt off his broom. He spun around furiously, yanked his wand out of his belt and rushed at Snape with a roar.
“EXPELLIARMUS!” Madam Hooch shouted, and both Sirius’s and Snape’s wands soared out of their hands and into hers. Sirius felt the wand leave his hands but did not slow down. He charged undeterred at Snape, who was clumsily pushing himself back up from the ground.
“PROTEGO!” Madam Hooch shouted. The spell slammed into him, knocking him flat onto his back. Looking up, he saw James descending safely to the grass.
Sirius leapt up again. “You foul, oily git!” he roared at Snape, who was staggering to his feet. “You could have killed him!”
“Mr. Snape, in all my years – a first year – come with me at once. We are going to Professor Slughorn.” Madam Hooch was so angry she could scarcely complete a sentence. “Mr. Black, you – you stay. No, you go to Madam Pomfrey, your nose is bleeding. Potter, you go with him. No more brooms. Miss Evans, Miss Meadowes, please see to it that the brooms are returned to the shed immediately. Class dismissed.”
Sirius wiped his nose angrily. His hand came away red.
James ran over to him. “We need to get you to the hospital wing,” he said worriedly. Sirius felt hot blood trickling over his lips. He scanned James’s face. He looked pale and shaken, but unharmed. The class milled around them excitedly, peering at them as they gathered their things. “What happened?” James asked shakily.
“Snape was jinxing your broom,” said Remus, coming up behind him. “If it hadn’t been for Sirius...”
Sirius shook his head. “You can thank Remus. He spotted him.”
Remus smiled wanly. “I’ve never seen a curse before, I’ve only read about them.”
“Good thing you read about them, then,” Sirius said gruffly. “I reckon you had about five more seconds on that broom, James.”
“You’ve seen a curse before, haven’t you, Sirius?” asked Evan Rosier with admiration. The class had formed a kind of circle around them.
“Of course I have,” Sirius said darkly. “Come on, James, let’s get to Madam Pomfrey. Good game, Evan.” He navigated his way through the circle and was relieved when he and James put a good distance between themselves and the crowd.
“You two again,” said Madam Pomfrey with her hands on her hips when they arrived. “I suppose you’re patients this time?”
“Only him,” James said, gesturing to Sirius. “I’m just moral support.”
Sirius glanced at the mirror over the sink when they walked in. His cheeks were smeared with blood from where he had wiped his nose, and blood was dripping off his chin down the front of his robes. His nose seemed oddly off-center.
A movement caught his eye near the back of the hospital wing. A tall, blonde man with high cheekbones peered interestedly from a door near the back of the hospital wing and then disappeared. It took several moments for Sirius to place him, but then he remembered – he was the visiting professor that Dumbledore had introduced after the Sorting: Professor Heilige.
“Name, please?” Madam Pomfrey said, redirecting his attention.
“Sirius Black.”
“Hm,” she said, taking it down on her clipboard. “And your House?”
“Gryffindor.”
“And what caused the injury?”
“Madam Hooch.”
“I beg your pardon?” she looked up.
“Madam Hooch hit me with a Shield Charm.”
Madam Pomfrey’s eyes shifted to James, who nodded in confirmation.
“You were jinxed by a teacher,” Madam Pomfrey repeated in disbelief.
“That’s right.”
“And you’re a Black, you say?”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to sue the school,” Sirius said wearily. He was tired of the spark of fear on everyone’s faces when they heard his last name. “She had to do it.”
“I see,” she said, her brow furrowing as she looked from Sirius to James. “And why is that?”
“I was going to kill my classmate.”
She put her pen down onto her clipboard and looked at him, eyebrows raised.
“Look, I don’t mean any disrespect,” Sirius said, “but I’m dripping blood all over your floor…”
“I would like you to explain,” Madam Pomfrey said plainly.
“What Sirius means to say,” James interjected. “Is that our… classmate… tried to knock me off my broom. Jinxed me when I was fifty feet in the air. Sirius here… probably saved my life.” James gave a small grateful glance at Sirius. “And when he was going over to…er… confront this classmate, Madam Hooch had to step in.”
“To stop me from killing him,” Sirius growled.
“I see,” Madam Pomfrey said, frowning at Sirius. “Was this classmate a fellow Gryffindor?”
“Of course not,” James said shortly. “He’s in Slytherin.”
“I see,” Madam Pomfrey said again. She was silent for a long moment. “Well, this is very disturbing. I will have to alert the headmaster about this, of course. Come and sit on this bed.” She gestured to a small hospital cot. “A first year jinxing a broom?” she continued, half to herself. “I’m not sure I believe it. There are seventh years who couldn’t do it.”
Sirius sat on the bed. His nose was throbbing.
“Let me take a look,” she said, bustling over to him. “Yes, your nose appears to be broken. Wait right here, I need to get a few things…”
She returned with a small metal instrument that resembled a clamp.
“Now, stay very still.” She pointed her wand at his nose. “Sinesensu.” The hot, throbbing pain evaporated. “All right, can you feel this?” She was tapping the instrument on his nose, but he couldn’t feel anything. He shook his head.
“Perfect. This will only take a moment.” She opened the instrument, and before Sirius could react, she clamped it firmly on his nose. He heard a sickening crunch and saw James recoil. She released it and again tapped her wand against his nose. She examined it closely then stepped back, apparently satisfied.
“All right, that should do it. Let’s get you cleaned up.” She steered him to the sink. Sirius splashed water on his face, watching his blood wash down the drain with interest. “Back to the bed, then.” Sirius obediently sat while Madam Pomfrey mopped his face with gauze. “Your nose will be numb for a couple of hours, so I recommend that you stay here, but if you feel strongly about leaving, you are free to go.”
She bustled out of the room.
James walked over and examined his face. “Blimey, you look as good as new!” he said cheerfully. “I thought for a minute that you might be permanently disfigured…”
“Don’t get your hopes up, I’m still bore handsome dan you,” Sirius replied, but to his great embarrassment and amusement the effect of this statement was mitigated by the sound of his voice: it was oddly nasally, as though his nose was pinched. Sirius and James both snorted with laughter.
“Oh yes, and your voice will sound like that until the numbness wears off,” Madam Pomfrey said.
“You doe, in dat case, I tink I will take by dinner from here,” Sirius said, his voice still sounding like his nose was stopped up. James collapsed with laughter again. Sirius looked at him and raised his eyebrows. “What?” he squeaked good-naturedly. “You tink by pain is funny?”
“All right, out, you,” Madam Pomfrey shooed James, weak with laughter, out of the wing and closed the door behind him.
Chapter 10: The Dueling Cavern
Chapter Text
Chapter 10
The Dueling Cavern
Snape’s stunt earned him a fifty-point loss for Slytherin, detention, and a meeting with the headmaster. Sirius overheard Lily Evans discussing it soberly with Dorcas Meadowes and Marlene McKinnon over breakfast early the next week.
“Severus swears it wasn’t him,” she said, but Sirius wondered if she really believed it. To his satisfaction, Evans kept shooting guilty looks in his and James’s direction.
Snape’s Slytherin classmates did not seem to be taking the fifty-point loss well. The rest of his House appeared to be shunning him; when he took a seat, the other Slytherins sitting there would stand and move elsewhere. Only Phineas Avery and Mordrey Mulciber seemed willing to sit with him, though they spoke only with one another and ignored him.
When lunch concluded, Snape made his way over to the Gryffindor table. Evans busied herself collecting her books, pretending not to see him.
“Lily,” Snape began, “I was thinking, maybe after classes we could –”
“Oy, Snape, this isn’t your table,” said James loudly, standing up.
“I don’t think I was speaking to you,” Snape sneered.
“You’re not wanted here. Why don’t you slither back to your House, Snivellus? Except it looks like they don’t want you, either.”
Snape stepped towards James and Sirius, away from Evans, and dropped his voice so that she wouldn’t hear. “I should have finished you off last Thursday, Potter. Lucky for you that your… ah… guard dog came to the rescue.”
“Lucky for you Madam Hooch came to your rescue, Snivellus,” snarled Sirius, stepping an inch away from his face and bringing his wand to Snape’s chin. “I wish I had you all to myself.”
“Do you?” Snape replied silkily, his lip curling. His eyes flitted to James. “Potter, I challenge you to a duel.” His hollow eyes returned to Sirius. “I assume your guard dog will be your second. Midnight, tonight, in the trophy room.”
“You got it,” James replied, taking a step closer to Snape so that he was nearly touching his nose. “Now shove off, Snivellus.”
At Defense Against the Dark Arts class that day, Sirius was especially focused. Professor Waldmeister was still working on dueling, and much to James’s and Sirius’s chagrin, she still insisted that they practice separately. James and Remus paired off, and Sirius was quick to ask Dorcas Meadowes, who had been a formidable opponent their first class, to be his dueling partner. He didn’t want to waste any practice time today teaching Peter remedial spells.
Dueling with Dorcas was again satisfyingly challenging. When Sirius successfully disarmed her, she took it in good humor, but returned with a new determination that, more than once, left Sirius wandless. On those occasions, Sirius was tempted to strengthen the spell, or even try out the Shield Charm or the Full-Body Bind Curse he had read about in his textbook, but he resisted, focusing instead on his speed and agility. He liked Dorcas well enough, but he doubted whether she would lose in good humor if Sirius broke the rules of the duel.
Next to them, James and Remus were closely matched as well. Sirius marveled that Remus, who at times seemed rather frail, was lightning fast with a wand. When his spells landed, they had a good amount of force to them, too; more than once, James was knocked backward. James was still the better dueler, light and fast on his feet, but a sheen of sweat betrayed the level of effort he was exerting to match Remus’s skill.
At Potions, Sirius and James gave Snape a wide berth. They were in good favor with Professor Slughorn after their successful first class, and they didn’t want to squander his benevolence by fighting with Snape in class when they already had a duel teed up.
It was enjoyable, Sirius had to admit, to be favored by the Potions Master. Indeed, the only person Slughorn seemed to favor more highly than James and Sirius was Lily Evans. He had been very impressed by her and Snape’s perfect brewing of the Wiggenweld Potion on their first day, but in subsequent classes Slughorn seemed to have cooled toward Snape. Whether Slughorn had heard about the broomstick incident, Sirius could only guess, but it was clear that his hesitations toward Snape did not extend to Evans, who was evidently his favorite student in the class.
Secretly encouraged by his decently strong standing in the class and satisfied by Slughorn’s scorn towards Snape, Sirius resolved to ignore Snape completely.
At the end of classes, while they were making their way back to the Common Room, Evans approached James, frowning. Her arms were crossed, and she looked ready to lecture.
“Sev told me about your duel tonight,” she said accusingly. “I suppose you plan on sneaking out? You aren’t allowed out of the Common Room after hours, you’ll lose us more House points.”
“What’s wrong? Worried I’m going to hurt your boyfriend?” James scoffed.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” she said, turning slightly pink. “He’s my friend.”
“Interesting taste in friends you’ve got,” Sirius said shortly. “What’re you going to do anyway, tell on us?”
“No, I’m not a snitch,” she said defensively. “You don’t have to fight him, Potter. He didn’t do it, you know.”
“Didn’t do what?” James asked, frowning at her and adjusting his bag. “Jinx my broom?” Evans pursed her lips.
Sirius scowled, exchanging a disbelieving look with Remus.
“Do you really believe that, Evans?” James asked incredulously. She hesitated.
“I didn’t think so,” he said scornfully. “Look, Evans, why don’t you just mind your own business? Tibbletigibbet.”
He hurried ahead and climbed through the portrait hole.
“Can you believe her?” James said furiously as he, Sirius, Remus, and Peter found themselves a table. “She can’t even admit what he did. I don’t understand why she’s friends with him.”
“Dunno why she bothers you so much,” Sirius said dispassionately, opening “Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1” and turning to the chapter on dueling. “Why don’t you practice dueling with me? We need to get ready for tonight.”
“Fine,” James said, standing up restlessly. “I’ve got the hang of Disarming and the Water Charms. I need to try something new. How do you do the full body bind again?”
“Like this.” Sirius pointed his wand at Peter. “Petrificus totalus!”
Peter went rigid as a board, then toppled unceremoniously out of his armchair. James laughed uproariously.
“Glad I could cheer you up a bit,” Sirius said dryly. “Hang on, I’ve forgotten how to undo it,” he added unconcernedly, flipping aimlessly through his text.
“Protego is another one,” James said distractedly. “That’s the one that broke your nose. It seemed to work pretty well. Here, let me try it on the fire. Protego!” The crackling fire curved inwards, as though pushed by an invisible arch. “Wicked! Come and try, Sirius!”
Sirius set down his book and tried it as well, blowing the fire backwards with the spell.
“We should probably practice it a few times, if we want it to work as well on Snape as it did on you,” James said.
They practiced a few rounds, progressing from casting on the fire to tossing pillows at one another and blocking them in midair.
“Found it!” Sirius heard Remus say behind him. He glanced back to see Remus standing over Peter’s prone form, book in one hand and wand in the other. “Let’s try – Finite Incantatem!” Peter’s rigid body went limp. He stretched and stumbled back into his chair.
“Perfect. Now we can try it out. Ready, James? Remus, you count.” Sirius stood opposite him. They bowed, turned, and carefully walked ten steps away from each other. As he paced, he noticed that students noticed their duel formalities; about half of the students in the Common Room were watching them with interest.
“Ready?” Remus sounded wary. “One, two, THREE!”
Sirius and James whirled around and shouted “PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!” at the same time. James managed to leap out of the way of Sirius’s hex, but Sirius’s shoulder was nicked by James’s. He felt himself go rigid. He wavered on the spot and then toppled to the floor. A few people cheered. James’s face appeared over him, grinning.
“Finite Incantatem!”
James clasped Sirius’s arm and pulled him to his feet. Sirius rubbed the back of his head where it had hit the floor. “I want a rematch. I got distracted. This time, any spell is fair game.”
“All right, then.”
The whole Common Room seemed to have stopped what they were doing to turn and watch the two first-years duel each other. Peter scampered towards the far wall. Remus stood from his chair and took several steps backwards.
“Come on, James!” Michael Robinson yelled from a few chairs over.
“Get him, Sirius!” hollered Dorcas Meadowes.
Sirius and James faced off, bowing carefully, then paced ten steps away.
“Ready, then?” Remus called. “One… two… THREE!”
Sirius leapt to his left and shouted “PROTEGO!” at the same moment James yelled “EXPELLIARMUS!” This time, James’s spell missed him by several feet, a red jet of light whizzing past where he had just been. The dome of Sirius’s spell whooshed past James’s left shoulder and several second years gasped as Caleb Coote, who was standing by the wall, leapt out of the way just in time.
“PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!” Sirius countered, but James dove out of the way, ducking behind a squishy armchair.
“SPONGIFY!” James yelled. The spell hit the carpet Sirius was standing on. It sunk like a trampoline, throwing Sirius off balance. He staggered to his right. “PROTEGO!” James bellowed, and several people audibly gasped and cheered when Sirius dropped to the floor just in time, the Shield rushing over his hair like wind and hitting the fire.
“NO DUELING IN THE COMMON ROOM!” someone bellowed. James turned toward the voice, but Sirius, who had climbed onto all fours, had already shouted “PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!” The spell hit James squarely in the back. The room went silent as an older student with blazing red hair and a glinting Prefect badge stalked over to them from the portrait hole, which was still hanging open. James wavered on the spot, then teetered backwards onto the back of a red chair and, as though in slow motion, slid off the edge of it and hit the floor with a crash, rigid as a board. A wave of giggles passed through the Common Room.
The Prefect, whom Sirius recognized as Gideon Prewett, turned to the offender. “You!” he shouted at Sirius. “What’s your name?”
“Sirius,” he replied, trying to push himself to standing with dignity but wobbling on the carpet, which still sunk like a trampoline.
“What’s your surname?”
“I’m Sirius Black.”
“You’re the new Black, then, eh?” Gideon’s expression transformed from irritation to suspicion. To Sirius’s bewilderment, Gideon pulled his wand out and aimed it at him warily. “What’s all this about? Attacking a Gryffindor in his own Common Room?”
This accusation was so wildly off base that for several seconds Sirius was dumbfounded with indignation.
“What are you talking about?” Remus said heatedly, breaking several seconds of tense silence. “They were only practicing.” He marched across the room and stood in front of Gideon’s wand, glaring at him.
“It’s true,” chimed in Dorcas, frowning. “They were just having fun.”
“James can tell you, look,” Sirius said, turning to James’s prone form and moving as though to cast the counter curse.
“Wand down!” Gideon shouted, sidestepping Remus and aiming squarely at Sirius.
“Gideon, what’s going on?” Alice Greengrass had climbed through the open portrait hole with Frank Longbottom and was staring at the scene in consternation. Alice and Frank’s prefect badges glinted in the firelight.
“Black was dueling with a student in the Common Room,” Gideon growled.
“Who, Sirius Black?” Alice’s eyes rested on Sirius, who stood guiltily in front of the fire. “Gideon, he’s just a kid. Put your wand down!”
“Who was he dueling, anyway?” Frank asked, then spotted James, still rigid on the floor.
“They were only playing,” Remus said quickly. “I saw the whole thing.”
Frank turned to Gideon angrily. “That’s his best friend, you git!”
Gideon’s face went a deep shade of red that matched his hair. He hesitated, then lowered his wand.
“What is it, the Total Body Bind?” Frank asked Sirius kindly. Sirius nodded. His head seemed to be buzzing, and there was a funny ringing in his ears. Everyone seemed to be staring at him. “Finite Incantatem,” Frank muttered.
James leapt to his feet at once.
“We were only playing!” he bellowed furiously at Gideon. “What is it with you people?! Give it a rest!”
“That will do, James,” Frank said firmly. “Gideon, can I speak with you outside?”
Still bright red, Gideon followed Frank through the portrait hole. It swung closed behind them. The second it clicked shut, the Common Room erupted in chatter. Several people were pointing and whispering in Sirius’s direction.
“Let’s get out of here, Sirius,” James said, snatching his book vehemently off the table.
Sirius looked around at the packed Common Room. People kept sneaking glances at him, speaking to one another in low voices. Amidst the crowd, Remus caught his eye. The blue circles under his eyes seemed to have deepened, and he was watching Sirius with a look of concern. Sirius felt a sudden surge of gratitude towards him for standing up to Gideon. He jerked his head, indicating that Remus should follow, and climbed through the portrait hole after James.
Frank was speaking forcefully in a low tone to Gideon to the right of the entrance when they climbed out. Sirius, feeling very awkward, pretended to see something very interesting on the corridor wall opposite them and walked as quickly as he could to get past.
“Hang on, Sirius.” Sirius’s heart sank as he heard Frank call him. “Can you come here for a second?”
Sirius grimaced and reluctantly turned towards them. He glanced at James, who shot him a tense look.
“Come on over,” Frank said kindly.
Sirius walked across the corridor, carefully avoiding looking at either of the Prefects. He felt his face burning. They towered over him, and he felt fairly small – he was at least a foot and a half shorter than them. A few seconds passed in silence; Sirius glanced up in time to see Frank give Gideon a stern, expectant look.
“Sorry I jumped to conclusions, Black,” Gideon said tensely.
“It’s fine,” Sirius mumbled, wanting more than anything to turn on his heel and walk away.
Gideon, who was still bright red, seemed on the verge of yelling, but when he spoke his voice was low and shaking. “I know the other Black a bit. Landed Angela Lightly in St. Mungo’s for a month this summer.”
“Gideon –” Frank began warningly.
“No!” Gideon snapped. “He needs to know that his sister’s a psychopath.”
“She’s not my sister,” Sirius said loudly. He looked up at Gideon with a mixture of defiance and disbelief. “You’re not too bright, are you?”
“Listen, you little twerp –”
“Shut your big dumb mouth! Bellatrix is my cousin. NOT my sister.” Sirius voice was so loud it was echoing down the corridor. “Aren’t you a Prewett? I have Prewetts as cousins, too.”
Gideon gawked at him.
“Not you though,” he continued viciously. “I’m sure I’d remember if I was related to someone as stupid as you.”
Gideon and Frank looked at each other in astonishment, mouths hanging open. Sirius could have sworn that Frank looked as though he was about to laugh. Sirius turned on his heel and stalked back to James and Remus, who were watching him apprehensively.
“Come back here, Black,” Gideon Prewett said.
Sirius frowned and turned around. Frank appeared to have turned to the wall, apparently shaking with silent laughter. To his utter bewilderment, Gideon himself looked as though he was trying very hard not to laugh.
“How - how old are you? Like, eleven?”
“Yeah,” Sirius said defiantly.
Gideon stared at him with an inscrutable expression. “I have to say, that was… a pretty sick burn coming from an eleven-year-old.” Frank, seemingly unable to control himself any longer, let out a loud laugh.
Gideon turned to Frank. “Do you mean to tell me he’s not even Bellatrix Black’s brother?”
Frank half turned to him shook his head.
“Joe told me the first year Black was another of Bellatrix’s siblings,” Gideon said crossly. “That Bellatrix taught him tricks and he threatened to use them.”
“Who, Joe Savage?” Sirius asked, remembering the boy who stopped him after his Sorting.
“That’s right,” Gideon said.
“He seems about as dumb as you.”
Frank snorted, but Gideon said, “All right, Black, that’s enough. You better scram before I take off House points.”
Neither Remus nor James said anything until they rounded the corner. Behind him, Sirius heard Frank say earnestly, “Even her siblings aren’t all bad, Gideon.”
“They’re all Slytherins,” Gideon replied flatly, as though this settled the matter.
“So… where are we going?” Sirius said after a minute of silence.
“Why don’t we go to the library?” suggested Remus. “I saw a section on dueling when I was in there this week. Maybe they’d have some good spells?”
“Nice idea, Remus,” Sirius said. “Which way? I haven’t been.”
Remus was right, Sirius thought as they explored the library. There were at least twenty different books on dueling. Many of them looked much too advanced, however, and several of them were in other languages. Sirius grabbed the thinnest book and brought it back to the table where James and Remus were sitting.
“What about this one?” James said, looking up from his book. “Tarantallegra, the dancing feet spell.”
“Here’s another,” said Remus. “It grows fur on your opponent.”
“Don’t reckon we can practice in here,” Sirius said unhappily.
“What we need,” James said thoughtfully, “Is a space to practice. Somewhere with plenty of room, where teachers and prefects can’t see us.”
“An empty classroom?” Remus suggested.
“Nah, if someone walks in, they might think we’re actually fighting and do something stupid,” James said distractedly. “We need it to be somewhere hidden – somewhere secret.”
Remus was watching him intently.
“I know!” Sirius said suddenly. “What about the caves? The ones under the castle, where our boats docked before the Sorting? Doesn’t seem like anyone goes in there, do they?”
“The caves are pretty isolated…” Remus said slowly. “I think there should always be at least three of you, though. In case there’s some kind of accident, and one or both of you get hurt. No one will know where you are.”
“That’s fair,” James said. “So, you’ll come with us, then?”
Remus looked taken aback. “Me?” He furrowed his brow in concern. “I don’t know… it sounds like dueling is against the rules… and are we really supposed to be going into those caves?”
“Come on, Remus,” Sirius cajoled him. “It’ll be fun! You’ll need to learn to duel, anyway. I mean for real, not the pretend stuff we do in Defense Against the Dark Arts. After what happened to you and Peter on the train, and what with students ending up in the hospital wing and St. Mungo’s, seems like it wouldn’t hurt to learn a few things, right? Anyway, James and I can’t always just duel each other, then we won’t get to try out different styles, and what good will that do?”
“You’re really good, too,” James said earnestly. “It’d be great if you could practice with us!” He sprang to his feet. “Come on, let’s go right now. I need more practice before tonight.”
Remus looked from James’s enthusiastic face to Sirius, who cocked an eyebrow at him.
“All right then,” he conceded. “Just give me a few more minutes, I need to write down a few more spells…”
Twenty minutes later, the three boys were making their way out the front doors of the castle holding the dueling books they’d checked out from the library. They glanced around to make sure that no one was watching, then slipped down the narrow passage next to the front steps and carefully descended the stone steps to the caves. The boat they had sailed into the caves the week before was still docked on the pebbly shore.
“Lumos,” James muttered, shining a light against the stony walls. They were glistening with rivulets of water dripping down from the earth above.
“Hey, look over there,” Sirius said, lighting his own wand. On the far side of the cave, a small, round shadow under a jutting rock on the cave wall didn’t light up when the ray from his wand hit it. Sirius walked over, shining his light onto it. It was a small opening in the rock. “Check this out,” he called over his shoulder, his voice echoing through the caves. He crawled inside – after a few feet, the stone over his head disappeared, and he climbed onto a floor of pebbles. He shone his wand upwards. Sirius was standing in a deep crack in the stone, at least twenty feet high, and only two feet wide, just enough for a person to stand. He peered ahead, shining his light into the darkness. The passage cut straight ahead, sloping slightly upwards, away from the caves. It seemed to go under the school.
“Wow,” said James behind him, his voice bouncing off the high walls of the natural passage. Sirius stepped forward to give him space to climb through.
“Come on,” Sirius said, setting off. “Let’s see where it goes.”
The three boys followed the passage, lights flashing up and down the walls. Somewhere, they heard the sound of dripping water. As they walked, the top of the crack seemed to descend closer and closer to their heads, until Sirius had to duck down to keep his head from brushing against the ceiling of the cave.
“Is it coming to an end?” Remus called from the back, his voice echoing much less in the narrow space.
“I think so – maybe…” Sirius said. He was bending all the way over, expecting to come up against a wall, but the light of his wand showed only darkness ahead. Oddly, he heard a distant sound of rushing water.
“Hang on,” Sirius said. “I think it gets taller again.” Indeed, the ceiling began to rise, and the walls widened. The sound of water was getting louder. Ahead, it looked like the passage opened into a cavern. Sirius stepped in and looked around. The sound of rushing water was almost deafening. He was in a large, hollow cavern. Great stalactites hung from the ceiling, dripping water quietly, and stalagmites rose like massive daggers from the ground. In the center of the cavern was a great pool, and to his right, a waterfall nearly twenty feet high cascaded from a hole near the ceiling, crashing into the water below.
“Check it out!” Sirius called, shouting to be heard over the crashing water. He looked around and saw James close behind, looking around in wonder. Remus was just coming out of the passage with an awestruck look on his face. “This can be our dueling cavern!”
Sirius walked to the edge of the pool and looked down. It was perfectly clear. He could see the bottom of the pool at least ten feet below. He set his book down on the rocks, then scooped his hand into the water. It was cold and clear. Sirius looked back at James, grinned again, then pulled his robes over his head, throwing them to the ground, and kicked off his trainers and socks. The stone was smooth under his bare feet. He shivered slightly; he was only wearing his boxers and a thin white undershirt. He took a deep breath, then cannonballed into the pool.
The water was quite cold, sending a shock through his chest that knocked the breath out of him. He kicked to the surface.
“Come on in! The water’s great!” he called.
James grinned back at him and ripped off his robes. Remus, however, lingered near the wall, looking hesitant.
“What’s wrong, Remus?” Sirius called tauntingly. “Scared of a little water?” Sirius was drifting from the shore. He gave a few kicks, but found that he was not moving much closer to James and Remus on the shore. He stopped and looked around, puzzled. The water pulled him gently backwards. “There seems to be a bit of a current –” Sirius began, but stopped talking as he felt it grow stronger. He began to kick, hard, but now the water was sweeping him to the far edge of the pool.
“Sirius, you all right?” called James nervously. He was still standing on the edge of the pool.
Sirius looked behind him and his heart dropped. The current was sweeping him towards an opening in the rock, submerged under the water.
“DON’T COME IN!” Sirius shouted. “IT’S –” He stopped midsentence and took in a deep breath of air. A half a second later, Sirius was sucked under the water. He was catapulting downwards, grasping for something to hold but finding only smooth, slimy rock. After ten seconds that felt like an eternity, Sirius was spat out into a vast sea. He opened his eyes, desperately trying to determine which way was up. A few bubbles floated out of his nose and drifted downward. Sirius spun around and followed them, kicking with a long breaststroke. His lungs began to burn. In the blur, he saw a glimmer of light ahead. He kicked desperately, feeling the used air pushing itself out of his lungs. With a last pull, Sirius emerged, gasping, into the air. He shook his hair out of his face and looked around. He was floating on the surface of the lake, just near the base of the cliffs on which the castle stood, far from the hidden entrance to the caves. He treaded water, taking deep gulps of air, calming his hammering heart.
Sirius jumped backwards as the water next to him exploded. It took him a moment to recognize James, face deathly pale, looking around frantically.
“SIRIUS!” he shouted. “You’re all right!”
“What did you jump in for, you git?!” Sirius yelled at him.
“I thought you’d drowned!”
“You jumped in after me?!” Sirius said furiously. “Well, what did you think would happen to you?!”
James didn’t have a chance to answer; a moment later, Remus erupted to the surface, gasping for air. He was still wearing his robes.
Sirius looked from James to Remus in disbelief, then shook his head, grinning despite himself. “You’re both crazy.”
Remus looked from Sirius to James bemusedly. “We’re alive!” he said, sounding mildly surprised.
James and Sirius laughed.
They were a decent distance from shore. The sun was low on the horizon, painting the sky hues of pink and orange. They swam together, pausing occasionally to wait for Remus, who was weighed down by his robes, which floated around him like a giant black jellyfish.
“Just take them off, Remus, you can get new ones,” Sirius said, the fourth time they stopped.
“No, that’s all right,” Remus said, panting. “We’re halfway there.”
When they finally made it to the shallows, Sirius’s legs were shaking with exhaustion. He staggered onto the grass and threw himself onto the ground, staring at the sky, which was a deep blue. It was nearly dark. James and Remus followed suit, winded. For a long time, none of them spoke.
“Well, that was awesome,” James said finally.
“I’m exhausted,” Sirius said.
“I’m starving,” Remus added.
“Do you suppose we’ve missed dinner?” James asked.
“A fine sight we’d be,” Sirius noted. He and James were both wearing only boxers and t-shirts, soaking wet.
“There won’t be time to get our robes if we want to make dinner,” James said thoughtfully. “Remus, d’you suppose you could just grab us some food? Sirius and I can sneak back up to the Common Room, it’s too dark to go back to the caves for our clothes. We’ll have to get them later.”
They hurried back around the lake. Sirius and James were both shivering violently in the September night, having cooled from the exertion of their long swim. The grass was cold under his feet, and occasionally he winced as he stepped on sharp rocks and twigs. His shoes were back in the cavern with his robes. It was totally dark when Sirius and James parted ways with Remus at the front door, peering around the cracked-open door to ensure that the Entrance Hall was deserted. Remus squelched loudly to the doors of the Great Hall while Sirius and James bounded soundlessly up the marble stairway as quickly as they could, leaving a trail of water behind them. They had to duck behind a tapestry when a group of older students walked by, but otherwise were lucky to encounter virtually no one on their way to the Gryffindor Common Room.
“My goodness, what have you two been up to?” the Fat Lady asked, scandalized.
“Just took a dip in the lake,” James said airily. “Tibbletigibbet.”
The portrait swung open, and James and Sirius slipped in unnoticed by the students in the Common Room, and crept swiftly and silently up to the boys’ dormitory.
“Where did you go?” Peter asked, astounded, when they entered.
“Just did a little exploring,” James said mysteriously.
James and Sirius had changed into dry clothes by the time Remus returned. To their dismay, he was empty-handed.
“Dinner was over,” Remus said despondently.
Sirius paused from vigorously drying his hair with a towel and looked up in dismay. “Oh man! I’m starving.”
“Wait, Sirius, don’t you have a House Elf?” James said suddenly. “D’you think she could help us?”
Sirius raised his eyebrows. “That’s a good idea! We can try.” He looked around, then called loudly, “Tipsy!”
Tipsy appeared with a crack. “Yes, Master Sirius?” she squeaked.
“Tipsy, do you suppose you could steal some food for us from the kitchens? There must be some left over.”
Tipsy’s face fell. “Tipsy could, Master Sirius,” she squeaked, “but Tipsy fears that if she steals from the kitchen, she is not going to be working at Hogwarts any more, and Mistress will punish her severely. But if Master insists –”
“No, Tipsy, never mind,” Sirius said quickly.
“Could you show us the way to the kitchens, though?” James asked suddenly. “You wouldn’t have to take anything yourself. We won’t tell anyone you did it.”
Tipsy looked from James to Sirius. “Would this be helpful to Master Sirius?”
“Only if you don’t get in trouble, Tipsy,” Sirius said cautiously. He looked at James, Remus, and Peter. “You three have to promise you won’t tell,” he said seriously.
“I won’t tell, I promise,” said James.
“I promise, too,” agreed Remus.
The boys looked expectantly at Peter.
“What? Oh, sure. I won’t tell either,” he stammered.
“Right then,” Sirius said briskly. “Who’s coming?”
“Give me a minute to change and I’m in,” Remus said, pulling a set of clean robes from his trunk. He jumped on his four poster and pulled his curtains shut.
“I’m coming, of course,” James said.
When Remus was dry and ready, the three of them headed out the door. As they left, Remus stopped and turned. “Would you like to come, Peter?” Peter turned pink.
“Okay, sure,” he said.
As they left the dormitory, Tipsy vanished without a sound.
“Tipsy?” Sirius said in a low voice, glancing at the Common Room, which was still full of people.
“Tipsy is here,” said a squeaky whisper from a few feet in front of him. “Tipsy is not supposed to be seen, Master Sirius.”
When the portrait shut behind them, Tipsy reappeared.
“How do you do that?” Remus said curiously.
“All House-Elves can make themselves invisible, sir,” Tipsy squeaked. “The sign of a good House-Elf is that she is never seen!”
“Can wizards do that too?” James asked. “Without an Invisibility Cloak, I mean.”
“I is not knowing, sir,” Tipsy said.
“It must be possible,” Sirius mused. “If a House-Elf can do it.”
Tipsy led them down to the Entrance Hall, and then down a side door that led to the dungeons.
“Hurry, this way,” she said urgently. “Tipsy must not be seen.”
They rounded several corners, then descended another flight of stairs. Tipsy paused in front of a portrait of a bowl of fruit.
“Master Sirius must tickle the pear, sir.”
Sirius raised his eyebrows, then leaned forward and tickled the pear in the fruit bowl. It giggled, and the portrait swung open.
“This is the kitchens, Master Sirius,” said Tipsy. “Please, may Tipsy go now? I is not wanting to lose my job in the kitchens, sir.”
“Of course. Thanks, Tipsy.”
She bowed low. “It is my pleasure, Master Sirius.” And then she vanished with a crack.
Sirius pushed open the double doors. He was standing in the entryway of a vast kitchen, as big as the Great Hall. Four long tables were placed around the kitchen, with another towards the front of the room.
“That must be where they send up the food,” James said, sounding awed.
The perimeter of the kitchen was lined with magnificent convection ovens with brass knobs and handles with large ornately carved hoods hovering over them. There were brass burners on top of the ovens and on the countertops between them. Everything was impeccably clean.
“Over there,” Sirius pointed. Against a far wall was a row of at least a dozen industrial-sized refrigerators and freezers.
As they headed over, however, a whole crowd of House Elves emerged from a back room.
“Welcome!” they squealed. “Welcome to the kitchens, sirs!”
“Oh! Er… thanks,” James said awkwardly.
“We were wondering if we might have some food?” Sirius said.
“But of course, sirs!” they squeaked. Moments later, House Elves were pushing piles of food into their arms.
“Might we try the pudding?” Peter said hopefully, and a moment later two House Elves walked up to him, holding a large bowl of chocolate pudding over their heads. One shoved a wooden charcuterie plank with meats and cheeses piled high into Sirius’s arms. Sirius balanced it in one hand.
Remus and Peter were handed piles of biscuits and baguettes. They dutifully filled their pockets.
“So, it’s all right for us to get food from the kitchens?” Sirius asked.
“Yes, sir! Anything you would like, sir!”
“Would it be all right if I asked Tipsy to bring me some from time to time?”
“Of course, sir!” they said in unison.
“Excellent,” James muttered.
Satisfied, the boys exited the kitchen and marched victoriously back up the stairs. They had just spun through the false wall when an unwelcome sight stopped them in their tracks.
“Well, well, well,” leered an ugly face from the darkness. It was Argus Filch, the caretaker, and he had a very nasty smile on his face. “What have we here? Four little thieves, sneaking about after hours, stealing from the Hogwarts kitchens!”
Sirius heard Peter let out a small squeak behind him.
“My, my, my, you little ingrates,” he growled menacingly. “Committing a criminal offense in your very first month! INTO MY OFFICE! Now! And don’t you try to sneak away! It’ll be worse for you if you do…” he smiled unpleasantly at them.
They followed Filch anxiously, casting frightened glances at one another. Sirius’s stomach gave a loud growl. Peering to make sure Filch wasn’t looking, Sirius grabbed several slices of meat and cheese off of the plank of wood he was still balancing in his right hand and stuffed them into his mouth.
Remus saw him, and with a furtive look he handed Sirius and James each a bread roll from his pocket.
“Don’t you try to sneak off, you little delinquents,” Filch looked over his shoulder with a nasty grin. Just in time, Sirius stuffed the roll into his robes. As soon as Filch turned back around, Sirius trotted ahead, deliberately holding the plank close to Remus. Remus scooped two handfuls of meat and cheese off the plank, quickly handing one fistful to James on his other side. They each shoved several pieces of cheese in their mouths, closing them just as Filch looked back again.
“Keep up now. Don’t you dare try to escape. There’s no escaping punishment now…” he let out a low cackle.
He turned to the front again, and Sirius swept the board down to Peter, who gratefully picked off a small pile of cheeses. Remus and James began cautiously chewing at the same time. Sirius ripped the roll in his pocket in half, and shoved a piece into his mouth.
“It’s right up here,” Filch crowed, positively delighted. As one, Sirius stuffed the rest of his roll into his mouth as James, and Remus shoved the remaining fistfuls of meat and cheese into theirs. Peter’s cheeks appeared to be stuffed full of cheese slices. Filch slammed open the door to his office.
“IN!” he shouted.
Desperately trying not to look like their mouths were stuffed full of food, the boys walked past him without chewing. Sirius felt his mouth begin to water.
“SIT!”
Sirius sat in a chair in front of a desk piled high with papers, turning his head away from Filch as though to look at something on the wall, but taking the opportunity to quickly chew and swallow his bread. Looking back, he was greatly disturbed to see a set of highly polished chains and manacles hanging from the ceiling behind his desk.
“GIVE ME THOSE!” Filch snatched the plank from Sirius, the pudding dish from James, and a long baguette from under Peter’s arm. “You!” he wheeled on Remus after setting the food on the desk. “Empty your pockets!”
Remus turned out his pockets: he had two remaining rolls.
“The rest of you, too!”
Sirius turned out his pockets, which contained candy wrappers and a small bag of gold. He showed Filch the gold then put it back in his pocket. He was sure that Filch wouldn’t be allowed to confiscate it. Remus and Peter, however, handed over a small mountain of bread.
Filch surveyed the small bounty on his desk.
“Oh, if only they could bring back the old punishments!” he crowed. “You see these?” he gestured to the chains. “These are for suspending students who have broken the rules! One day, one day!”
He paced the length of his office, then spun around to face the four boys seated in chairs in front of his desk. He unrolled a scroll of parchment and dipped his quill in a pot of ink with a flourish.
“SNEAKING into the kitchens, which are OUT OF BOUNDS to students!” he began with relish, scratching his quill across the page. “STEALING from the wares and goods of the school! WANDERING the school, when you should be in your Common Room! DETENTION, DETENTION, DETENTION, DETENTION!” He shouted each “detention” while looking at each of the boys.
“Get BACK to your Common Room IMMEDIATELY! You will report to me this Saturday night to receive your detentions!” He leered at them unpleasantly.
“He’s a total nutcase,” James said, once they were out of earshot. They were walking swiftly back to the Common Room down a long, windowed corridor with floor-length, maroon curtains. The floors were painted with slanted diamonds of moonlight. “Totally mad.”
“Do you think he meant it, about torturing students?” Peter asked worriedly.
“Nah,” Sirius said. “If he was allowed to torture us, he would have done it already.”
“I don’t suppose you should go to your duel then, James,” Remus remarked.
“My duel!” James smacked his forehead with his hand. “I totally forgot!”
“I’m afraid Remus is right,” Sirius agreed. “Filch looks like he really might string us up by our thumbs if he catches us twice in one night.”
“Snape will think I chickened out,” James said darkly. “Like I’m scared of that greasy –”
“Shh!” Sirius hissed suddenly. He heard low voices around the corner, and something about them made the hairs on his neck stand on end.
“This way!” he hissed. He darted across the hallway and ducked behind one of the long, floor-length curtains. Remus dodged into the one nearest him, and he saw James and Peter dive behind the curtains at the next window.
The sounds of shuffling robes rounded the corner.
“– says her owl was nearly intercepted. We’ll have to find another way to get it into the castle,” a female voice was saying.
“It’s too risky for her to try that again,” said a deep voice. “We can’t risk it being confiscated. She needs to hand it off in person.”
“Achoo!”
A small sneeze sounded from the window where James and Peter were hiding. Sirius looked over in horror; Peter’s eyes were watering, and he looked as though he was about to sneeze again.
“What was that?” the female voice said sharply.
Sirius closed his eyes, knowing what would happen next.
“Achoo!”
Peter sneezed again, louder this time. Scarcely daring to breathe, Sirius pulled the curtain fully around him so that he was completely hidden. Remus did the same. Sirius caught a glimpse of his very pale face before the curtain obscured it.
He heard the sound of yanking curtains and Peter’s small squeal.
“What’s this?” the deep voice said, a note of cruel amusement in his voice. “Two little first years, wandering alone at night.”
“Look, Rabastan! It’s that pathetic little first year from the train!” said a second male voice, sounding delighted. Sirius realized that the first voice belonged to Rabastan Lestrange, and the other to the Slytherin who gave him the coin from Bellatrix.
“Isn’t that the Hatstall?” jeered the female voice.
“Not brave, not smart, not cunning… not much of anything,” sneered the other boy. “Why aren’t you in Hufflepuff with the rest of the talentless Mudbloods?”
Sirius heard Peter mutter something, of which only “pure blood,” was discernible.
“And who’s this ickle firstie?” the girl said scornfully.
“James Potter,” Sirius heard James say loudly. “Leave us alone. We’re on our way back to our Common Room.”
“Didn’t look like it, did it Amycus?” sneered the girl. “Didn’t look like they was going back to their Common Room, did it?”
“It looked to me like they was hiding from us in those curtains, Alecto,” said the boy called Amycus.
“Hiding – or spying,” growled Rabastan Lestrange dangerously.
Sirius moved the curtain slightly and peered fearfully at the scene. The three older Slytherins, whose backs were to Sirius, had their wands drawn. James was standing slightly in front of Peter, as though shielding him. He was staring at the three Slytherins defiantly, although he was very pale.
Heart pounding, Sirius reached, very slowly, into his robes and carefully withdrew his wand. He looked to the other curtain. Remus, whose face was a mirror of Sirius’s own terror, caught his eye and nodded slightly. His own wand was drawn.
“We weren’t spying,” James said loudly. “We were playing a game.”
“What game?” Alecto taunted.
“Hide and seek,” James retorted.
“Lying little firstie,” Alecto cackled. “And who’s looking for you?”
Sirius thought quickly, then, with a flash of his palm to Remus to warn him to stay put, he darted out from behind the curtain and into the middle of the corridor.
“James! Peter! There you are!” he called.
The three Slytherins whirled around.
“What’s going on?” Sirius continued, trying very hard to look relaxed and confused instead of terrified. “Aren’t you supposed to be hiding?”
“It’s Black,” Lestrange growled to the others.
“Lestrange, I see you’ve met my friends,” Sirius continued loudly. “Is everything all right?”
“What are you doing here, Black?” Lestrange snarled.
“Well, we were playing a game of hide and seek,” Sirius said, sounding annoyed. “But it’s lucky we ran into you, actually. How’s Bella? I got a letter from her the other day, she said she’d be keeping an eye on me. She’s a bit protective, you know.”
This had the desired effect. Sirius saw Lestrange exchange nervous looks with Amycus and Alecto.
“You heard from Bella?” Amycus said suspiciously. “She told us we was to keep an eye on you, seeing as how you was Sorted into Gryffindor.”
“To make sure I didn’t disgrace the name of Black, I know,” Sirius said carelessly. “I don’t intend to. Look, this kid – he’s a Potter. You know the Potters, pure as they come. They’re related to the Black family, you know. And Pettigrew here’s pureblood as well. A bit… well, you know,” Sirius looked disdainfully at Peter’s quivering form. “But pure nonetheless.”
“Bella said you hadn’t written her back,” Lestrange growled. “She said you hadn’t given her an answer.”
“I’ve been busy,” Sirius shrugged. “Now, if you don’t mind, my friends and I are going to leave now. James, Peter, let’s go.”
Peter scurried over to Sirius in a flash. James walked past Lestrange, Alecto, and Amycus, shooting them a dirty look. Sirius turned to leave.
“Black!” Sirius heard Lestrange bark. Sirius felt a thrill of terror, and a sheen of cold sweat leapt to his skin.
“What is it, Lestrange?” he said disdainfully, looking over his shoulder.
“So, I can tell Bella your answer’s yes, then?”
“Yeah, sure,” Sirius said, then walked as quickly as he could down the corridor, James and Peter behind him. As soon as he turned the corner, he stopped and peered around, looking worriedly at the curtain where Remus remained hidden. Lestrange, Alecto, and Amycus had continued down the hall and disappeared. A moment later, Remus emerged and sprinted towards them. When he caught up with them, the four turned and ran. They didn’t stop running until they reached their dormitory and slammed and locked the door behind them.
Chapter 11: The Bucking Broomstick
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 11
The Bucking Broomstick
The next day at Potions, Snape was staring poisonously at James through the whole lesson. Sirius and James were trying to work on the Cure for Boils potion, but it was difficult to ignore Snape’s sneering face every time he passed them on his way back from the store cupboard.
Evans kept casting Snape reproachful looks. “You’ve missed a step, Sev! You can’t add the porcupine quills until after we take the cauldron off the fire!” she hissed, quickly removing their cauldron from the heat.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
“I told you not to go last night, didn’t I?” Evans lectured, as though continuing an earlier conversation. “Now you’ve got detention this weekend, and we were supposed to practice flying!”
Sirius exchanged amused looks with James, who also appeared to be eavesdropping.
“Detention?” James asked delightedly, turning in his chair to look at them. “How about that, Snivellus? Instead of a date with Evans, you get to spend time with me and Sirius. Too bad, it looked like you could really use some flying lessons.”
A tinge of pink flushed Snape’s sallow cheeks. “I should have known you were too cowardly to show up,” he said through clenched teeth, low enough that Professor Slughorn couldn’t hear.
James stood up abruptly, stepping very close to their table. “Who are you calling a coward?” he said loudly.
“Boys, boys, that’s enough, no fighting in my class,” Professor Slughorn said, hurrying over. James looked at Professor Slughorn disappointedly, then reluctantly sat back down.
“You, Potter,” Snape hissed, as soon as Professor Slughorn returned to the front of the class. “I was calling you a coward.”
Sirius had to grab James’s shoulder to stop him from jumping to his feet again. “Save it for detention,” he said under his breath, with a warning look in Professor Slughorn’s direction.
James complied, but he was so angry that he spilled some of the potion as he violently stirred it.
“When you are finished, if you have brewed correctly, your potion should emit a gentle pink smoke,” Professor Slughorn said from his chair. “Let’s see who got it right.”
A few minutes later, to Sirius’s great satisfaction, gentle pink smoke began to rise from their completed potion.
“Oh no!” Evans cried from behind them. Their potion was billowing acid-green smoke, popping and splashing violently. Their cauldron began to melt, and the potion spilled across the floor.
People began to scream and jump onto their chairs. Sirius soon saw why: the potion was melting everything it touched. He leapt onto his desk, stepping over to make room for James. Sirius was grateful they had jumped up in time; they were both wearing sandals, as their trainers were still in the dueling cavern.
Evans was weeping loudly. Large, angry boils were popping up across her face and arms. Although Snape himself was breaking out in large boils, he was frantically wiping the potion off of Evans with his sleeve.
“Everyone stay calm!” Professor Slughorn cried. He waved his wand, and the potion disappeared.
“You must have added the porcupine quills before removing it from the heat,” Professor Slughorn said sternly to Snape and Evans, who was still sobbing.
“It was my fault!” Snape groaned miserably to Evans. “I’m sorry!”
“All right, let’s get you both to Madam Pomfrey,” Professor Slughorn said. “Miss McKinnon, Miss Meadowes, may you please escort these two to the hospital wing?”
“Which way to the hospital wing?” Dorcas asked.
“Never mind. Who knows the way to the hospital wing?”
Only Sirius, James, and Remus raised their hands.
Professor Slughorn looked between the three of them, seeming very torn. “Hm, let’s see. Mr. Potter, you won’t do, neither will you Lupin. Mr. Black, I suppose it’s down to you. Miss Meadowes, please accompany them as well.”
Sirius rolled his eyes at James and stood to go.
“You get Snape,” Sirius said shortly to Dorcas as soon as they were outside. Dorcas shot a concerned look at Evans, but complied, falling in next to Snape.
“I’m fine,” Snape snarled at Dorcas, although by now every inch of his face was covered in boils.
“You okay?” Sirius asked Evans grudgingly.
Evans took a shuddering breath. Tears on her face were trickling around great ugly boils.
“Sorry Snape exploded potion on you,” Sirius added ferociously.
“One more word, Black, and I’ll curse you into next year,” Snape hissed.
“Oh, please, just stop, both of you!” Evans cried. Dorcas shook her head in dismay.
They walked in tense silence until they arrived at the hospital wing. However, it wasn’t Madam Pomfrey who opened the door to the hospital wing. A tall, pale man with prominent cheekbones greeted them at the entrance.
“Please, come in,” Professor Heilige said cordially.
The door opened more widely, and Madam Pomfrey emerged behind Professor Heilige. She looked at Sirius head to toe.
“You again. What is it this time?”
“My classmate, Snape, had a little accident in Potions,” Sirius replied with a disgusted look at Snape, who had a boil the size of an orange at the end of his large, hooked nose. “It got Evans too.”
“All right, come in,” Madam Pomfrey sighed. “Professor Slughorn restocked me on Cure for Boils on Monday, in case there were any accidents.”
“Bye Lily, bye Severus,” Dorcas said with a wave as they walked into the wing. “Feel better!”
“See you then,” Sirius said brusquely, pointedly looking only at Evans.
Dorcas and Sirius set off back towards the dungeons in awkward silence.
“I heard Potter saying that you two have detention,” Dorcas said after several minutes. “What did you get a detention for? That prefect didn’t give you one for dueling, did he?”
“Nah, he let me off,” Sirius said. “Filch caught us later stealing food from the kitchens.”
“You and James?”
“Me, James, Remus, and Peter Pettigrew.”
“Marlene McKinnon said she saw you and James come back to the Common Room soaking wet...”
“Oh, that was something different,” Sirius shrugged. “We accidentally fell into the lake.”
Dorcas raised her eyebrows. She didn’t ask any more questions until they arrived back at the dungeons.
At Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Waldmeister continued with dueling, but noted that class the next day would be scheduled for Friday afternoon, on the green where they had flying lessons.
When they arrived on the green on Friday, they saw with surprise that not only their own class, but first years from the other three Houses were gathered outside.
“What’s going on?” James asked Davey Gudgeon, a Hufflepuff who sometimes sat with them in Herbology, when he and Sirius arrived on the scene.
“It sounds like Professor Waldmeister rescheduled everyone’s Defense Against the Dark Arts class this week for this time,” Davey said, looking befuddled. “I wonder what for?”
They didn’t have to wait long. At the edge of the green they saw the slight form of Professor Waldmeister striding towards them, trailed by an apprehensive-looking Madam Hooch. Both of them had armfuls of brooms under their arms.
“Great, are we flying?” James said excitedly. Excited murmurs spread through the group.
Professor Waldmeister set her bundles of brooms on the ground. Madam Hooch began setting them several feet apart, while Professor Waldmeister turned to address the class.
“It has recently come to my attention,” Professor Waldmeister began, but was interrupted as someone shouted, “We can’t hear you!”
She gave a patient smile, then tapped her throat with her wand.
“Let’s try this again,” she said, and her voice boomed through the green. “It has come to my attention that there has been an incident concerning a jinxed broom.”
As one, the crowd of students turned towards someone near the front. Sirius didn’t have to see him to know it was Snape.
Professor Waldmeister continued. “Since apparently a certain student in this year found it appropriate to learn and use curses against broomsticks, it seems that we will have to dedicate some time on counter-curses for such an attack.”
James raised his eyebrows at Sirius, impressed.
“Today, I will demonstrate the curse and counter-curse for such an attack. The incantation to curse a broom is: Impetus scopae! However, most of you will find that if you tried to perform this curse on a broomstick, nothing would occur. This is because most broomsticks are protected with anti-jinxing spells, and it would take a powerful warlock to overcome them. However, when brooms get older, such as these school-issued brooms, the anti-jinx begins to weaken, making them more vulnerable to attacks… even from very elementary attackers.” She cast a cold look in Snape’s direction. “In order to maintain an attack on a broom, the witch or wizard must maintain eye contact without blinking while saying the incantation repeatedly. If the attacker’s eye contact is broken, or he is unable to speak the incantation, the curse will be rendered ineffective.
“Thus, your best hope of counterattack for a jinx like this is to attack the cursing witch or wizard directly. I believe several students here saw that demonstrated firsthand.”
Several of the first years looked around until they saw Sirius. They began whispering fiercely to one another, pointing in his direction. Some were looking at him with admiration, others with fear.
“However, if you are unable to identify the attacker – if you are in a crowded stadium, for example, or a school Quidditch match – you will want to use an effective counter-curse. The counter-curse is this: Pacem scopae! You must repeat this counter-curse nonstop, keeping your eyes fixed on the broom you wish to save, without blinking. You must continue to do this until either the flyer is safely on the ground, or the attacker ceases his curse.
“Right then, let’s give it a try!” she said with a cheerful smile. “Who would like to try the counter-curse first?”
Several hands shot up.
“Miss Eliana Proudfoot,” she called, and a short girl with cropped curly brown hair walked forward. “Very good. Let’s try the incantation. Repeat after me: Pacem scopae!”
“Pacem scopae!” Eliana cried.
“Very good,” Professor Waldmeister said. “Now let’s try it with the real thing. Mr. Severus Snape! Please come to the front of the class.”
There was a long pause. Sirius saw the back of Snape’s long, oily hair as he walked jerkily forward.
“Please mount the broom, Mr. Snape.”
Snape stared at her for a long moment. Then he slowly, carefully, mounted the broomstick.
“Miss Proudfoot, I will perform the broom jinx on this broom. It is your task to successfully perform the counter-curse long enough for Mr. Snape to remain on the broom for a full minute.”
The class shouted with laughter. Snape was very still, staring at Professor Waldmeister with undisguised loathing, and Sirius was reminded of a snake waiting to strike.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Snape, you will only need to go five feet into the air. You will be much safer than your would-be victim was,” Professor Waldmeister said sweetly. “On my signal, you will kick off. Ready… set… go!”
Snape kicked off, and Professor Waldmeister fixed him with an unblinking stare, muttering nonstop under her breath. His broomstick jerked, then bucked violently.
The class laughed uproariously, and Eliana herself was laughing, unable to string together the words of the counter-curse.
Snape was clinging desperately to his broom. After only ten seconds, he was flung from the broom and landed in a heap on the grass. The class laughed even louder.
“Good effort, Miss Proudfoot, but I’m afraid that, in order for the incantation to work, you must actually say it,” Professor Waldmeister said with a saccharine smile. “Mr. Snape, please get back on the broom.”
Snape’s face was burning a bright red. He stood rigidly, facing her, not moving. “Now, Snape,” she said with a dangerous note to her voice. Resentfully, he climbed back on.
Sirius turned to James in delight. James, however, was frowning, and so was Remus next to him.
“Cheer up, James,” Sirius said brightly. “It’s about time he had a taste of his own medicine.”
James shot him a sober look, and slightly shook his head.
“Ready, set, GO!”
Snape kicked off again, and Professor Waldmeister again began her curse. Snape’s broom began to jerk and buck in the air. This time, Eliana Proudfoot focused, and began muttering under her breath nonstop. Snape’s broom faltered, then stabilized. Snape began to glide towards the ground, then his broom began to buck, then stop, then buck again. With the final violent jerk, Snape was thrown brutally to the ground.
“Much better!” Professor Waldmeister said cheerfully. “Perfect, except towards the end I’m guessing you began to blink?” Eliana nodded. “It’s very important not to break eye contact!” Professor Waldmeister emphasized.
“All right, now you all will get a chance. We only have fifteen brooms, so please break into groups of four. These brooms have been modified so that they will fly no higher than five feet from the ground. They are also jinxed to throw off their rider, but I’ve ensured that the jinxes are weak enough for first years to cast off. The counter-curse will work on them. One person from your group will ride the broom, while another performs the counter-curse long enough for the person to stay on top for a full minute. One of the extras can keep time. Please take turns. All right, grab a broom and begin!”
Sirius, James, Remus and Peter chose a broom near the edge, so as to keep distance from the bucking broomsticks.
“Peter, you ride first,” Sirius said. “I can counter-curse.”
“I’ll keep time,” Remus offered.
Peter gave a timid nod, then climbed onto his broom and kicked off.
The broom bucked once, and Peter was thrown into the air. He landed with a crash.
“Come on, you’ve got to at least stay on long enough for me to get the words out, Peter,” Sirius said exasperatedly.
“Sorry,” he squeaked, stumbling to his feet. He climbed back onto the broom. “Are you ready?” he said nervously to Sirius.
“Yeah, all right. One, two, THREE!”
Peter kicked off, and at the same moment Sirius began to mutter the counter-curse nonstop, staring intently at him. The broom wobbled somewhat, but was not bucking and jerking.
“Come on Peter, stay on!” called Remus encouragingly. Peter looked terrified, but was clamping tightly onto the broom. “Twenty seconds… forty seconds…”
Sirius’s eyes were starting to water, and his throat was beginning to hurt from repeating the incantation. He felt a growing sense of exhaustion, as though the exertion of the spell was draining him. He blinked. For a moment, the counter-curse broke. The broomstick gave a great buck, and Peter was thrown to the ground.
“Oh, come ON,” Sirius threw his head back in exasperation. “Even Snape managed to stay on for ten seconds with no counter-curse! James, you try, you managed to stay on during Snape’s curse for at least a minute.”
“All right,” James said. He climbed on and kicked off.
This time, Sirius made it fifty seconds before he blinked. However, when the broom bucked, James easily held on.
“One minute!” Remus called, and Peter and Remus cheered as James descended to the ground.
“All right then, now do it when Peter is counter-cursing,” Sirius said mischievously.
“Challenge accepted,” James said with a gracious bow, and climbed back onto the broom and kicked off.
“Oh no, what’s the counter-curse again?” Peter said desperately, as James’s broom began to buck.
“Pacem scopae, I only just said it about a million times!” Sirius said.
“Oh – right! Pacem soapa, wait, no, Pay-chem scopy…”
James’s broom began to buck wildly. He clenched the broom handle between his shins and lifted his body off the broom, bouncing expertly. “Any time now, Peter!” James shouted, and Sirius guffawed.
Several of the nearby groups turned at the commotion.
“Pay-chem scoppy! Pacem telescope!”
“It’s pacem scopae!” Sirius roared, doubled over in laughter.
“Pacem scopey! Pacem scopey!”
James was still expertly balancing on his bucking broom, which began to revolve in midair. Several people gasped and clapped as James flipped under and around the broom two complete times without losing his grip.
“ONE MINUTE!” Remus yelled.
“Pacem scopae, pacem scopae!” Sirius shouted immediately. The broom stopped spinning and James descended to the ground, dismounting to enthusiastic applause, while Sirius dissolved into laughter.
“One minute on the broom, fair is fair!” Remus said, struggling to keep a straight face. “Peter passes for the day!”
Peter was bright red but smiling as the class burst out laughing.
When class dismissed, the first years scattered across the grounds to enjoy the rest of the beautiful Friday, chattering happily. The afternoon sun was blazing over the castle and grounds, and a cool breeze hinted of falling leaves. Sirius, James, Remus, and Peter found a tree near the edge of the lake and threw themselves down in its shade. James pulled his model Snitch from his pocket and challenged Sirius to a chasing match. After a few rounds, James shouldered Sirius out of the way and jumped for the Snitch. Sirius hit the grass, then aimed his wand at James, knocking him sideways with the Full-Body Bind. He snatched the Snitch and waved it tauntingly in front of James’s face before releasing him. No sooner had James recovered than he knocked Sirius backwards with the Impediment Charm, and soon their game of catch had developed into a lively, friendly duel.
It was, in Sirius’s opinion, a perfect way to end the week.
The following morning at breakfast, an older boy who introduced himself as Donovan Wood came over to shake their hands. “James Potter, is it? I heard you’re quite a flyer. Just to make sure you’ve heard, Quidditch tryouts are next weekend. I know you’re only a first year, but you should try out for the team. We need a new Chaser.”
Their cheerful mood was only improved when Professor McGonagall informed them that their detention would be served with Hagrid, and that they were to meet him at his hut at two in the afternoon. This was great news, as far as Sirius and James were concerned. Although Peter needed to be reassured by both James and Sirius, in the end Peter and Remus were also feeling optimistic about the afternoon.
The boys spent a quiet Saturday morning in the Common Room. James and Remus took up a game of wizard chess, and Sirius challenged Peter to a round of gobstones. After a late lunch, Sirius set off with James, Remus, and Peter towards Hagrid’s hut. He noticed that Remus was moving rather slower than usual, and his expression had settled into a kind of permanent grimace. James was also watching Remus, frowning.
“Everything okay, Remus?” James asked.
“Fine,” he replied tightly.
Upon arrival, Hagrid informed them that his garden was in need of a fresh coat of hippogriff dung to keep the pumpkins on schedule for harvest in one month’s time. Sirius groaned internally, looking at his sandaled feet.
“Looks like yer friend Snape isn’t here yet,” Hagrid said, looking around at them. “Yer can get started, an’ I’ll send him back when he gets here. Mind you don’t cover up the leaves or the flowers. Jus’ stick to the base where it comes out o’ the ground.”
Hagrid led them around to his large, tangled garden of vines with massive golden trumpets of flowers and pumpkins ranging from the size of a Quaffle to the size of a small dog. On the far end, near one of the fences, a steaming pile of dung towered at least eight feet high.
“Well, he didn’t say no magic,” James pointed out once Hagrid stepped away. “D’you suppose a Levitation Charm would do the trick?”
“Not a bad idea.” Sirius said thoughtfully. They had just begun Levitation in Charms, although so far all they had done was copy notes from the text.
James stepped forward, taking his wand from his robes. “Let’s see… the spell was: Wingardium leviosa!” Nothing happened. He turned to them. “Am I saying it right?”
“No idea,” Sirius said idly. “There are only so many ways to say it. Let’s just go through them all and see if anything happens.”
The four boys stood there with their wands pointing at the pile of dung, shouting every variation of the phrase they could think of. Finally, a large chunk of crumbling dung levitated about five feet into the air.
“Which one of us is it?” James asked excitedly. “Remus, Peter, you try to move yours to the right. Sirius, you and I can move it to the left.”
It was Remus, it turned out, who had successfully managed the spell.
“All right, it’s winGARdium leviOsa,” Remus said.
They all tried it, and four steaming chunks of dung rose from the top of the pile.
“Nice one, Remus!” James said brightly. He carefully walked his chunk of dung to the garden and dropped it on top of a massive vine springing from the ground. The boys set to work.
They jumped when they heard Hagrid’s voice, afraid he would tell them off for using magic, but he was at the front door, apparently welcoming Snape. “’Bou’ time yeh showed up. Yeh’ll have to stay longer’n yer friends,” he said loudly. “Come with me.”
The boys glanced at each other and quietly dropped the dung back on the pile, tucking away their wands. They didn’t want to risk being told that they were not allowed to use magic.
Hagrid rounded the side of the cabin, with a very sour-faced Snape in tow. Snape was staring at the steaming mountain of hippogriff dung and the four boys next to it with equal measures of disgust.
“All righ’, look, they’re makin’ good progress. Yeh can jus’ join right in. No funny business, I’ll be watching yeh.” Hagrid turned and left. Snape and James stared at each other tensely.
Sirius and Remus exchanged nervous glances. Sirius was positive that a duel during detention would land them all in very big trouble. It looked as though Snape and James were weighing the odds.
“Severus, we’ve just worked out the spell to make it easier,” Remus said kindly, though his eyes were flicking warily between Snape and James. He turned to the dung pile to demonstrate. “Look. Wingardium leviosa!” Another bucket-sized scoop of dung floated into the air. Remus flicked his wand, and the dung flew, somewhat too hard, across the garden and splattered on a fence post.
Snape’s lip curled. “I’ll work on this side,” he said stiffly. He picked the side of the mound as far from the boys as possible.
For a while, it appeared as though all would be well. The boys worked diligently, and the mountain shrank until it was small enough for the boys to see over the top. Just as Sirius was beginning to think happily of hot showers back in the castle, however, disaster struck. Peter, who had been carefully walking his levitating dung from the pile to various parts of the garden, finally decided to try to flick it to save time. Most unfortunately, he flicked it too hard to the right, and it sailed directly into the back of Snape’s head. James, who saw the incident, widened his eyes in surprise and burst out laughing.
Snape whirled around, viciously wiping dung out of his hair. “Think that’s funny, do you?” he snarled at James.
“Yeah, I do,” James laughed, staring at him with defiance. Snape looked murderous.
“Relax, Snivellus, it’ll be good for you,” James jeered. “At least it’ll force you to wash your hair.”
In a flash, Snape’s wand was out. Before either James or Sirius had a chance to react, Snape muttered something under his breath and James’s eyes widened, mouth gaping.
“Say it again,” Snape hissed.
James made a weird gagging sound. His eyes were bulging, his hands grabbing desperately at his throat, as though trying to loosen an invisible noose.
Sirius rounded on Snape. “PROTEGO!” he roared.
Snape was blown six feet backwards as the dome of Sirius’s spell slammed into him.
“EXPELLIARMUS!” Remus shouted a half a second later, and Snape’s wand soared into Remus’s outstretched hand.
James gasped a deep, ragged breath of air and collapsed, coughing dryly on the ground. Remus hurried over to him, while Sirius advanced murderously on Snape, who was crumpled on the ground clutching a bleeding nose.
“You know far too many dark curses for a Muggle-raised half-blood,” Sirius growled at him. Snape attempted to stagger to his feet. “Protego!” he shouted. Blood blossomed across Snape’s nose as he was knocked another three feet backwards. He staggered to keep his balance. “Where are you learning it all, Snape?” he snarled.
Snape spat at Sirius. It hit him right below the eye.
“Protego!” Sirius shouted again.
Snape was knocked backwards again. He tripped over a pumpkin and toppled to the ground, landing flat onto the freshly spread manure.
“WHAT’RE YEH DOIN, NO FIGHTIN’ DURIN’ DETENTION!” Hagrid had emerged from his hut, a half-tanned weasel skin in one hand. He dropped the hide and stormed to Sirius, pulling him roughly by the collar away from Snape.
“Snape cursed me, Hagrid,” James said quickly. His voice still sounded tight. “I don’t even know what he did…”
“It was like he was choking him or something,” Peter said in a small voice. He was cowering behind a large pumpkin.
“I wasn’t fighting! I was only using the Shield Charm,” Sirius said defensively. “To get him off James.”
“It’s true, Hagrid,” James said earnestly.
Hagrid looked at James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter, who were all nodding at him, then at Snape, who had again struggled to his feet with a murderous expression on his face, dung dripping grotesquely from his hair and robes.
“I heard abou’ one o’ yer classmates using a dark curse on yer broom,” Hagrid said slowly to James.
“It was him. It was Snape,” James said, pointing an accusing finger at Snape, who glowered at them.
“I’m goin’ ter have to speak with Professor Slughorn abou’ this,” Hagrid said gravely, turning to Snape. “Doin’ that kind o’ dark magic, at yer age? Tha’ doesn’ happen at Hogwarts. Dunno where yer learnin’ it all. Yeh come from a dark wizard family or summat? I never heard the name Snape before.”
“Snape is a Muggle name,” Sirius sneered. “That’s right, isn’t it, Snape?”
“My mother’s a Prince,” Snape spat.
“Everyone knows Eileen Prince is a blood traitor and her son was raised as a Muggle,” Sirius said viciously.
Snape’s face became masklike. “I knew about everything!” His voice was thick with rage. “My mother could do magic whenever she felt like it!” Sirius could tell from the rising pitch of Snape’s voice that he had touched a nerve.
“I don’t care that your dad was a Muggle, Snape,” James said loudly. He had come up next to Sirius, glaring at Snape. “And I don’t want to know where you learned all this dark magic. But if you try to curse me or my friends again, you’re getting expelled. I’ll make sure of it. Dumbledore won’t stand for it.”
“Tha’s right,” Hagrid agreed. “Dumbledore won’ stand fer dark curses bein’ learned and used at Hogwarts. Slughorn knows tha’. Now come on, all five of yeh, we’re goin’ ter find yer Heads of Houses.”
No one spoke as they climbed the sloping lawn by the lake back up to the castle. Sirius glanced at his friends. James looked troubled. He kept peering into the woods distractedly. Remus, who looked very unwell, was walking in an odd, jerky fashion. Peter was fiddling with his hands, looking anxious. Sirius looked ahead and glimpsed a flash of red hair. Next to him, Snape let out a low groan.
“Sev, what’s going on?” Lily Evans said as they passed. “I was coming to see if there was still time to practice flying – what’s all over your hair?” Evans wrinkled her nose at the smell.
“Move along, now,” Hagrid said. “I’m takin’ these five to their Heads o’ Houses.”
Evans looked at each of them in turn, realization dawning on her face.
“Have you been fighting?” she asked Snape reproachfully. He didn’t answer. “Your nose is bleeding.” She rounded on James. “Did you bullies do this to him?”
“Relax, Princess,” Sirius interjected cooly. “Unfortunately for Snape, his nose will be back to normal in no time.”
“I sai’ move along,” Hagrid said roughly to Evans. “I got this handled.”
Sirius felt Evans glaring daggers at their backs as they continued towards the castle.
Hagrid marched them directly to Professor McGonagall’s office. The boys waited in the hallway, listening to the low voices inside.
“All righ’, come in, all o’ yeh.”
They stepped into Professor McGonagall’s office just as Professor McGonagall herself threw a handful of powder into the fire, which roared and turned bright green. “Horace, I want a word,” she called into the fire. She crossed her arms, waiting. A minute later, Professor Slughorn’s vast figure appeared in her hearth, spinning very fast. He stepped into her office, dusting off his coat.
“How may I help you, Minerva?” He spotted the guilty line of boys in her office and his face fell. “Ah.”
“Hagrid was telling me that these boys were serving their detention in his garden this afternoon, when Snape apparently attempted to attack Potter with an illegal dark curse.”
Slughorn raised his eyebrows and looked at the boys. “And this was unprovoked, was it?” he asked sternly of Snape.
“No sir,” Snape said, his lips barely moving. “Potter attacked first.”
“I did not!” James said indignantly. “I didn’t do anything!”
“He hurled manure at my head, sir.”
“I did not!” James yelled again.
“It was an accident, Professor,” Remus interjected meekly. “Peter was trying to move the manure by magic and he accidentally hit Severus in the back.”
“Well, that is certainly believable,” Professor McGonagall said sharply, looking unfavorably at Peter over her glasses. “Just last week, Pettigrew was attempting to turn a tissue into a leaf, and not only did he manage to set it on fire, but somehow it landed in Miss McKinnon’s hair.”
“And then Snape thought James did it,” Sirius continued. “So, Snape hit James with a Chokehold Curse.”
“A Chokehold Curse is advanced dark magic. And how do you know what it’s called, eh?” Professor Slughorn asked Sirius suspiciously.
“You said you were familiar with my family, Professor,” Sirius said stonily.
Professor Slughorn and Professor McGonagall exchanged a sideways look.
Professor Slughorn turned to James, with another quick look at Sirius. “Are you sure it was Snape who attacked you?” he asked.
“Oh, come on, not this again,” James said shortly. “Snape just said he did it. He pointed his wand at me, said something under his breath, and then it was like – like someone was strangling me. I couldn’t say anything, I couldn’t even breathe. And then Sirius blasted him with a Shield Charm.”
Professor Slughorn frowned, looking at Sirius thoughtfully. “So, you saved your friend, then.”
“Remus would have got him if I didn’t, sir,” Sirius replied.
Professor Slughorn raised his eyebrows and looked at Remus apprehensively. Remus was staring very hard at the floor. Professor Slughorn turned to Snape.
“Is that what happened to your nose?” he asked. “Black’s Shield Charm?” Snape’s lip curled. He nodded.
“That’s quite a powerful Shield Charm for a first year,” Professor Slughorn said to Sirius, sounding very impressed.
“Professor Slughorn, please,” Professor McGonagall said shortly. “Mr. Potter, Black, Lupin, Pettigrew – it is very serious to duel with a student, and doing so may earn you anything from a loss of House points to expulsion.”
“But it was self-defense, Professor!” Sirius interrupted indignantly.
“I am not finished, Mr. Black. As I was saying, while dueling is a very serious offense, it seems that in this case, your actions were in self-defense, and the Shield Charm you used, Mr. Black, was appropriate to the situation. There will be no points taken from Gryffindor.” She turned back to the group.
“I want to make very clear to all parties present,” here she looked very hard at Snape over her square-rimmed glasses, “that use of dark magic, curses, and attacks on students are grounds for expulsion from Hogwarts. I understand, Mr. Snape, that you have already had an incident in which you cursed Mr. Potter’s broom during flying lessons, and I trust that Professor Slughorn communicated to you the severity of the situation. I am telling you now, as Deputy Headmistress, that this is your final warning. If there is another incident like this, I will have no choice but to recommend your expulsion to Professor Dumbledore. Have I made myself clear?”
Snape’s face had gone very pale. Slowly, he nodded. “Yes, Professor,” he said.
“Potter, Black, Lupin, Pettigrew, you are dismissed. Please return to the Gryffindor Common Room until dinner. Goodness knows, I don’t want any more incidents with you today. And do take a shower, you smell terrible.”
“Yes, Professor,” they said in unison, and quickly began to file out of her office.
“Mr. Snape, please remain here with me and Professor Slughorn while we discuss an appropriate consequence for your actions today.”
“Yes, Professor,” Snape replied.
Notes:
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Chapter 12: The Secret
Summary:
Short chapter, more coming soon!
Chapter Text
Chapter 12
The Secret
Sirius, James, Remus and Peter didn’t say anything until they had put several floors between themselves and Professor McGonagall’s office.
“Remus, are you sure you’re okay?” James asked suddenly.
Sirius looked at Remus, who indeed appeared very unwell.
“I’m fine,” Remus said, sounding strained. “I think I’m going to lie down a bit before dinner.”
When they got back to the Common Room, Sirius made a beeline for the showers. He emerged a full thirty minutes later, feeling and smelling much better, and went to the dormitory to drop off his smelly robes. Remus was lying on his bed, still wearing his dirty robes, fast asleep. His cheeks were flushed a feverish red.
“Did you see Remus? He looks really bad,” James said worriedly, once Sirius found him in the Common Room.
“Yeah. We should check on him before dinner,” Sirius said, frowning.
They distracted themselves with a game of wizard chess. After about twenty minutes, James looked up at Sirius hesitantly. He seemed to be torn about something, and he looked uncharacteristically sober. “That stuff you said to Snape earlier,” he said abruptly. “About having a Muggle dad and all. Does that bother you? Having Muggle parents, I mean.”
Sirius shifted uncomfortably. “Nah, I was just angry.”
“You reckon it might’ve upset Remus?”
“Remus? Why would it upset Remus?”
“Oh! His mum’s a Muggle,” James said, shooting him a nervous look. “You didn’t know that?”
“Oh, right, I forgot,” Sirius said. A few seconds passed before it clicked. “Oh, so you think he might’ve gotten upset because I called Snape a half-blood?”
“And his mum a blood traitor for marrying a Muggle? I mean, maybe,” James said uncomfortably. “He looked really bad when we were walking back. He was there the other night, too, when you said that stuff to those Slytherins…” he trailed off.
“I was just saying stuff,” Sirius said defensively. “I was just saying what I needed to say to get us out of there.”
Sirius surveyed James, feeling waves of shame and anger. Didn’t James understand what would have happened if Sirius hadn’t gotten them out?
“What question did your cousin ask you?” James was looking intently at Sirius now, as though trying to read him.
“What question d’you mean?” Sirius avoided his eyes. “Check,” he said, moving his knight.
James countered by moving his king. “You seemed to know which question when the Slytherins asked you about it.” There was a definite note of accusation in James’s voice. Sirius felt his cheeks warm.
“I already told you,” Sirius replied half-truthfully, heart pounding. “She wanted me to promise not to disgrace the Black family name. Said that as the heir, I have a responsibility.”
“And what does that look like, exactly?”
“’What does that look like?’ What do you care? Why are you asking me so many questions anyway?” Sirius said angrily. “Check again.”
“Are we only friends because I’m pureblood?” James said all in a rush, as though confessing something that had been on his mind for a while.
“What?” Sirius looked up at James in astonishment. James turned red, looking unsure, but raised his chin defiantly. “Are you joking?” Sirius asked, staring at James in disbelief.
James didn’t say anything.
“James, if I only wanted pureblooded friends, I would have let the Hat sort me into Slytherin!” he said hotly.
James looked taken aback. “What?” He was staring at Sirius, utterly nonplussed. “What d’you mean, let the Hat sort you into Slytherin?”
Sirius felt as though his throat had closed up. He stood up abruptly. “No, James, I’m not just friends with you because you’re pureblood. All right? Can you drop it?”
James also stood up. He dropped his voice, glancing at Peter to make sure he wasn’t listening. “Did the Hat want to sort you into Slytherin?”
“I said drop it. Queen to B9, checkmate. It’s got to be time for dinner, I’m going to check on Remus.” Sirius spun on his heel and stalked out of the Common Room and up the stairs, leaving James staring after him, dumbstruck.
What did it matter if the Hat wanted to sort him into Slytherin, Sirius fumed as he stomped up the stairs. James was speaking as though Grindelwald himself had returned and attempted to recruit Sirius into his army. Andromeda was in Slytherin, after all, and James seemed to get on well enough with Mark Flint and Evan Rosier…
Sirius threw open the door to their room and slammed it hard behind him. Remus was lying in exactly the same position as when Sirius last saw him. His cheeks were still flushed an unnatural red. Sirius frowned and felt his forehead. It was very hot.
“Remus?” Sirius gently shook his arm.
Without opening his eyes, Remus gasped in pain and yanked his arm away. Sirius looked at the arm, puzzled. With a furtive glance at Remus, Sirius grabbed Remus’s hand and gently lifted his arm, pushing the sleeve back.
Sirius gasped, his stomach turning. Down Remus arm were three deep gashes, only partially mended, oozing white and green pus.
Sirius leapt up and threw the door open. “JAMES!” he yelled in panic. “JAMES, GET UP HERE!”
Five seconds later James came bounding up the stairs. “What’s happened?!” he gasped.
“Look!” Sirius pointed fearfully at Remus, where his pulled-back sleeve still displayed his gruesome wounds.
James stood perfectly still, shellshocked, his mouth gaping open.
“We need to get Professor McGonagall!” Sirius shouted.
“I’ll get her! You stay here!” In a flash, James darted out of the room and thundered down the stairs.
“What’s going on?” said Michael Robinson curiously, climbing the stairs and attempting to peer around Sirius into the room.
“Nothing,” Sirius said flatly, slamming the door in his face. He locked the handle and returned to Remus. The minutes ticked by. Sirius felt his forehead again – he was blazing hot. He looked back at Remus’s arm. The gashes were oozing gruesomely. Much of the wound was covered by his robe, it seemed. Sirius was tempted to lift the sleeve of the robe further, to see the extent of the injury. He hesitated, then reached to the sleeve again.
Suddenly, Remus’s other hand flew up, clamping Sirius’s wrist tightly. Startled, Sirius tried to pull away, but couldn’t; Remus had a remarkably strong grip.
Remus’s brown eyes were wide open and unfocused, delirious. “Don’t see!” Remus slurred.
“Are you saying you can’t see? We’re going to get you to the hospital wing,” Sirius said shakily. “Just hang on, Professor McGonagall will be here any minute.”
“Don’t see!” he slurred again, not loosening his grip.
Someone was banging on the door.
“I’ve got to get the door, Remus. You have to let go.” Remus’s hand remained clamped on Sirius’s wrist.
“Alohomora!” Professor McGonagall’s voice called from the other side of the door. She burst in and reached them in three strides. She stared at Remus’s arm for several moments, then cursed under her breath. “Mr. Potter, please find a Prefect and tell them I said to empty the Common Room.”
“Yes, Professor,” James said from the hallway. He sounded scared.
“Remus Lupin, can you hear me? This is Professor McGonagall.”
Remus’s eyes were still wide open, and flickered from side to side at the sound of her voice.
“We are going to transfer you to the hospital. I am going to need to carry you, do you understand? Mr. Black, please go into the hallway and make sure that no students are present.”
“I can’t, Professor,” Sirius said, tugging his arm futilely. “He won’t let go.”
“Has he said anything?”
Sirius swallowed. “He just keeps saying ‘don’t see.’”
An unfamiliar expression crossed Professor McGonagall’s face. She put a hand on the one Remus had clenched around Sirius’s wrist, then leaned across him, speaking in Remus’s ear. Sirius strained to hear, but he could not make out anything she said. However, a moment later Remus let go of Sirius’s wrist, his hand falling limply to his chest. Professor McGonagall turned to Sirius.
“Mr. Black, go stand in the doorway and make sure that no one passes by. In fact, please make sure that the stairwell is empty. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Professor,” Sirius said. He stuck his head out of the doorway; in the stairwell, curious students were peering in his direction.
“Everyone out!” Sirius said, raising his voice. “Either go to your rooms or down to the Common Room! We need the stairs clear!”
No one moved.
A moment later, Gideon Prewett came bounding up the stairs. “What’s going on?” he asked worriedly. “Potter said Professor McGonagall’s here, and wants the Common Room empty? Frank and Alice are getting everyone out.”
Sirius, still standing in the doorway, pulled the door mostly closed except for where he was standing, to block Gideon’s view. “I need your help getting people out of the stairwell,” Sirius said to him urgently. “Professor McGonagall’s orders. Please.”
Gideon became very serious. “All right, back in your rooms or downstairs!” he hollered down the stairs, where curious students were congregating. “Anyone left on the stairwell in thirty seconds gets an automatic detention!”
The stairwell cleared quickly. Gideon bounded down the steps, then up again a minute later. “All right, Frank and Alice got everyone out.”
Professor McGonagall’s voice called from behind him. “Prewett, please see to it that Longbottom and Greengrass and any other students are out. That includes Prefects. Have Longbottom go directly to Professor Dumbledore. Tell him I need his help. Send Potter up here too. Black, you stay.”
Gideon cast Sirius a bewildered look, then thundered back down to the Common Room. Sirius heard the exchange of a few voices, and then James reappeared at the bottom of the stairs.
“Is everyone gone?” Professor McGonagall asked tensely. Sirius looked over his shoulder. She was standing next to the bed, watching Remus with concern.
“Is everyone gone?” Sirius echoed to James.
“Yeah,” James replied.
“We’re clear,” Sirius said to Professor McGonagall.
“Mr. Black, I am going to move Mr. Lupin now. It is important that we get him to Madam Pomfrey as soon as possible. Black, I want you and Potter to stay with me.”
Professor McGonagall bent down over the bed and, in one swift motion, scooped Remus into her arms like a small child. He let out a horrible scream of pain that made Sirius’s eyes water, and Sirius had a sudden horrible urge to rush at Professor McGonagall and knock Remus out of her arms. Instead, Sirius leapt back and pulled the door open so that Professor McGonagall and Remus could pass. She looked very pale.
They walked swiftly down the stairs together. When they reached the portrait hole, it swung open from the outside. With a jolt of surprise, Sirius saw that Professor Dumbledore was standing on the other side.
“Give him to me, Minerva,” he said, looking very grave.
Professor McGonagall passed Remus through the portrait hole to Professor Dumbledore.
“Please escort Mr. Black and Mr. Potter to my office,” he said. “I will join you shortly.”
Professor Dumbledore disappeared. Professor McGonagall turned to them. “Follow me,” she said. Although she was visibly shaking, her voice sounded as calm and stern as if they had just walked into her class.
They followed Professor McGonagall through the hallways until they arrived at a great stone gargoyle.
“Fizzing Whizbees,” she said. This seemed to be some kind of password, for the bronze gargoyle nodded and moved out of the way, revealing an entryway. Without another word, she led them up a very tall spiral staircase.
They emerged into a comfortable-looking office with a number of squashy chairs. It was not unlike the Gryffindor Common Room, until you looked at the walls. The shelves were filled with ornate gadgets and ancient-looking books. On a nearby table, a large golden cage held a magnificent, crimson bird with long, golden tail feathers.
“Have a seat,” Professor McGonagall said firmly. “We wait here.”
Sirius’s heart was pounding both with the exertion of climbing the stairs and with something like panic. James looked like Sirius felt: his face was ashen and his eyes wide. Sirius hesitated, then walked to one of the large squashy chairs and sat.
After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened, and Dumbledore strode swiftly into the office.
Sirius had heard a lot about Dumbledore. His mother thought he was mad; Mr. Scrimgeour insisted that he was the most powerful wizard of the age. What was indisputable was that twenty-six years ago, Albus Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald, the most powerful dark wizard in four centuries.
At this moment, Dumbledore looked very tired and very serious, a far cry from the merry wizard who had greeted them at the Sorting.
“Sirius Black, James Potter. It is very good to personally make your acquaintance, although I very much regret the circumstances.” Dumbledore gave a deep sigh and walked to a chair opposite James and Sirius. “Professor McGonagall tells me that you, Mr. Black, found Mr. Lupin in this condition in your dormitory?”
“Yes, Professor.” Sirius took a deep breath, attempting to steady his wavering voice. “Is he going to be all right, Professor Dumbledore?”
“I certainly hope so,” he replied heavily. “He is now in good hands with Madam Pomfrey. If anyone can heal him, she can.” Dumbledore removed his half-moon glasses and massaged the top of his long, crooked nose. He put his glasses back on, and then looked intently at James and Sirius. “Did anyone else besides the two of you witness either his condition or his wounds?”
“No, just us,” Sirius said. “I locked the door so people couldn’t look in, and I was blocking people’s view when they were leaving the boys dormitory.”
“What happened to him, Professor?” James cut in.
Dumbledore looked at James and Sirius carefully. “Did Mr. Lupin ever mention anything about these wounds previously?”
“No, sir,” James said. “He was looking ill all day, but when we asked him about it, he just said that he needed to rest.”
Dumbledore looked from James to Sirius soberly. “And you don’t have any idea what might have caused them?”
“No!” They said together.
Dumbledore’s eyes flickered to Professor McGonagall for a brief moment. It took a long time for him to speak.
“What I am about to tell you is very serious. I am telling you because it is necessary for the safety of your friend. Mr. Remus Lupin’s wounds were caused by his own actions. It seems that his injuries have resulted from the stress of the transition to Hogwarts.”
Professor McGonagall let out a small sound. It took several moments for Professor Dumbledore’s words to sink in. Sirius looked at James in horror. James was staring at Professor Dumbledore, his mouth hanging slightly open.
“You understand, I trust,” Professor Dumbledore continued after a pause, “the extreme sensitivity of such a situation. It would be most harmful to Mr. Lupin if this information were to be shared with other students or teachers at the school.”
Dumbledore looked from Sirius to James. “I must ask you, as the two individuals who witnessed Mr. Lupin’s circumstance today, to swear to me that you will speak of this to no one. Can you promise me that?”
It felt as though there was something very large stuck in Sirius’s throat. He swallowed several times, then managed, “Yes, sir.” James echoed him quietly.
“Thank you. It seems that Mr. Lupin’s wounds had become infected, which has resulted in a very serious situation for your friend. It must have been developing for several days, and it is frankly shocking to me that he did not say anything about them, nor excuse himself to the hospital wing. Can you think of why that might be?”
There was a long silence. Then James said quietly, “Maybe he was embarrassed.”
“Yes,” Dumbledore nodded seriously. “Perhaps he was embarrassed, or ashamed, and felt that he could not seek the treatment he required. This leads me to my second point, if I may borrow against your goodwill by requesting another favor, in addition to your absolute secrecy about these events.”
Sirius and James nodded mutely.
“Professor McGonagall, and several of your other teachers, have mentioned to me that the two of you have formed a friendship with Mr. Lupin. As this afternoon’s events have demonstrated, you, as both his friends and roommates, are in perhaps the best position to ensure that Mr. Lupin receives the help that he requires. I should like you both to keep a close eye on him. If you are concerned about him, encourage him to visit Madam Pomfrey and Professor Heilige. If you have any concerns, any at all, I ask that you alert Professor McGonagall and come to me directly and immediately. There is no need to involve other students, or even other teachers, in this matter. Can I rely on you to do this?”
“Yes, sir,” Sirius said, as James said, “We will, sir.”
“In situations such as these, I would also recommend that you do not pry too much with Mr. Lupin. To do so would be quite distressing to him, as you might imagine.”
Sirius and James nodded.
“This may be a lot to take in,” Dumbledore said sympathetically. “And I fear that I have caused you to miss much of your dinnertime. I will have the House-Elves send your meals to your dormitory. Please eat in your room this evening. The rest of the House will be permitted to return in thirty minutes’ time.”
Dumbledore stood and smoothed his robes. “I am in debt to you, Professor McGonagall, for so deftly and effectively managing this situation, and to both of you boys for taking such good care of your friend. We shall not speak of this again. Good evening.”
Professor McGonagall shepherded Sirius and James out of the room and down the stairs. When she dropped them off at the portrait, she wished them goodnight in a tone perhaps less severe than usual. Sirius and James did not speak until they returned to their room and closed the door.
Two wooden trays with plates of food were already waiting for them on their beds. The tousled sheets and blankets on Remus’s bed had been replaced, and his neat four-poster felt somehow more empty than usual.
Sirius couldn’t think of anything to say for a long time. He tried to eat, but it seemed particularly difficult to swallow. Every time he thought of Dumbledore’s words, or the sound of Remus screaming, he felt as though a very large piece of food was jammed in his throat. Finally, he gave up, setting his fork down with a clatter.
“Why didn’t he say anything?” James said, as though reading his mind. “Dumbledore said this must have been going on for days.”
Sirius couldn’t think of an answer. His brain felt like it was filled with lead.
“The lake,” James said suddenly. “Remember, he didn’t want to get in the water? And he wouldn’t take off his robes, even when they were making it hard to swim?”
Sirius swore and stood abruptly, pacing.
“He must have hurt himself by then and was covering it up,” James continued feverishly. “But then he jumped in and… my dad says that you’re not supposed to get wounds like that wet until they’re healed, he tells people all the time when he gives them healing potions.”
“It’s my fault then!” Sirius burst out suddenly. “If I hadn’t jumped into that pool…” Seized by rage, Sirius grabbed a book off of his bedside table and threw it at the wall with a roar.
There was a ringing silence. Sirius’s heart was pounding.
“He jumped in, Sirius,” James said quietly. “He didn’t have to. We didn’t know…”
“Why didn’t he tell us?” Sirius barked. “We’re his friends.”
James brought both hands to his face, pushing his hair back. “I don’t know,” he said.
A low rumble alerted them to the return of students to the Common Room. Sirius strode to the door and locked it; he suspected people might stop in to ask about what happened. Sure enough, as people filed up the stairs, their doorknob rattled several times. Thankfully, no one knocked.
“We can’t tell Peter,” Sirius said distractedly.
“We should go visit Remus tomorrow,” James added.
Sirius walked back to his bed and threw himself down, staring at the ceiling. They were silent for a long time. As the panic of the afternoon settled, Sirius remembered the argument he and James had had just before he found Remus.
James seemed to be thinking the same thing.
“I’m sorry about what I said,” he said after several minutes. “During chess.”
“It’s fine,” Sirius mumbled.
There was a short silence. James took a deep breath. “Did the Hat really try to put you in Slytherin?”
“Yeah.” Sirius’s voice sounded hoarse.
“Well… why’d you choose Gryffindor then?”
Sirius blinked at the ceiling. “I don’t know. I guess I thought it would be fun if we were in the same House.”
He heard James turn in his bed, and Sirius looked over at him. He was on his side, looking at Sirius with bewilderment.
“You chose Gryffindor so you could be friends with me?”
Sirius felt himself turning red. “Yeah, I guess… but it’s not just that,” he added uncomfortably. He looked back at the ceiling. “My whole family has been in Slytherin. Like, for centuries. And I’m… not like them. I don’t want to be like them.”
“Like Bellatrix, you mean?” James asked hesitantly.
“Bellatrix tried to kill my little brother,” Sirius said, feeling a sudden wave of emotion. “Put him under the Imperius Curse and almost made him jump out a window.”
James breathed in sharply and sat up. “What happened?”
Sirius sat up too. He looked menacingly at James from under his eyebrows. “I put her through two walls is what happened.”
“How old were you?”
“Six.”
James gulped.
“She’s been threatening to kill me as long as I can remember. Says if Regulus and I are dead, she gets the Black family fortune. Once I accidentally opened a letter meant for her and she put a knife to my throat.”
“Didn’t you tell anyone?” James asked, aghast.
“My uncle. But she said it wasn’t a knife, it was a letter opener. Technically she was right, I guess. She finally stopped when my father told her that magical law disqualifies her from the inheritance if she kills the rightful heirs. He even added an extra clause to the will which says that if she’s associated with my death in any way, she is disqualified from the inheritance. So, she… goes after things I care about. Tortured my pet rat Whiskers so badly that we had to put him down. Threatens my friends… and I suppose she’s worked out by now that if she gets someone else to kill me, she’ll be free and clear.”
“Is that what the letter said?” James asked fearfully. “That she’s going to… to kill you?”
“She said that I’m the heir, and if I disgrace the Black family name then she will do what needs to be done. That my mother and father will understand,” Sirius spat. “She’s probably right about that,” he added bitterly.
“What was the question she asked you?”
James was staring at him, his hazel eyes blazing with intensity. Sirius took a deep breath. Telling James what was in Bellatrix’s letter would be disloyalty on par with treason, as far as his family was concerned. Sirius looked at Remus’s made bed, at Sirius’s schoolbook which still lay bent on the floor from when he had hurled it at the wall, and back at James. And all at once, Sirius did not care if telling James meant treachery against the House of Black.
Sirius took a deep breath.
“Have you ever heard of Lord Voldemort?”
Chapter 13: Quidditch and the Switch
Chapter Text
Chapter 13
Quidditch and the Switch
The next day, James and Sirius went directly to the hospital wing after breakfast, fully expecting to be turned away, but hoping for at least an update on Remus’s condition. They were surprised when Madam Pomfrey allowed them in, although she did so with an air of great disapproval.
“Professor Dumbledore informed me that you two might visit, and has given you special permission to visit Mr. Lupin,” she sniffed. “I must insist, however, as matron of Hogwarts, that you keep your visit short. Young Mr. Lupin requires rest.”
Sirius felt very self-conscious as he and James shuffled inside.
Professor Heilige was back again. He was sitting in a nearby chair, writing in a notebook. He looked up at them with interest, then jotted notes down again.
“His bed is all the way at the end,” Madam Pomfrey said.
A curtain was hiding his bed from view. With trepidation, Sirius and James approached, not knowing what to expect.
“Mr. Lupin, you have visitors,” Madam Pomfrey said.
“Visitors?” they heard him say.
They stepped behind the curtain which obscured his bed. Remus was awake and propped up on his pillows. He looked terrible – his face was deathly white, and the circles under his eyes were a deep purple. He was wearing a long-sleeved hospital gown. Sirius saw a thick pad of bandages covering what little skin on his arms would have been visible. Seeing Sirius’s gaze, Remus withdrew his hands so that only his fingertips were visible.
He seemed pleasantly surprised to see them both, but Sirius thought that he also looked distinctly worried. His eyes kept flitting anxiously between Sirius, James, and Madam Pomfrey.
“Well, you look swell,” James lied cheerfully.
Madam Pomfrey walked away, muttering under her breath.
“What are you doing here?” Remus asked. To Sirius’s surprise, he sounded angry. Sirius glanced at James, who looked taken aback and hurt. Sirius recovered first.
“Let’s see,” Sirius said, cocking an eyebrow at him. “I’m having a hard time remembering the details, but I’m pretty sure I found you on the brink of death yesterday…”
“Everything’s kind of blurring together,” James added, “but I’m pretty sure we had to evacuate the Common Room.”
“You made Professor McGonagall cry,” continued Sirius, “Which is actually kind of impressive.”
“Dumbledore showed up and carried you to the hospital wing…”
“Never even seen him up close before.”
“We got called to Dumbledore’s office, and sworn to secrecy…”
Remus didn’t smile. He was looking between Sirius and James, evidently terrified.
James sighed, dropping the act, and ran his hand through his untidy hair. “Look, we don’t have to talk about it, but Dumbledore told us everything.”
Remus made a sudden movement.
“We know how you got those cuts,” James continued gently. “I just wish you would have told us, Remus. If we knew you were having such a hard time… maybe we could have helped…”
“Helped?” Remus replied blankly, his eyes flicking, confused and fearful, between Sirius and James.
“You don’t have to… do what you did. You could just talk to us instead, you know?”
Sirius had the impression that James had rehearsed this speech ahead of time.
“Just, you know, if you ever start to have a hard time, just talk to us. We can help you!”
“I don’t understand,” Remus said flatly. He looked at them both. “How much… exactly… did Dumbledore share?”
“He said you…” James couldn’t seem to bring himself to finish the sentence.
“He said you gave those cuts to yourself,” Sirius said, with a quick look at James. “Because the transition to Hogwarts has been tough on you.”
Remus blinked. He opened his mouth, and then shut it again.
“Like James said, we don’t have to talk about it,” Sirius added hastily. “We just want you to know that we’re here for you. You just have to, you know, talk to us.”
Remus’s eyes had become very bright. He nodded.
“Oh – here, I almost forgot.” James reached in his pocket and pulled out a slightly squashed pastry. “They had chocolate croissants at breakfast, they’re amazing, you have to try one.”
Remus took the pastry and looked at it. He blinked and a few tears slid down his cheeks. Sirius looked at his shoes, embarrassed.
“All right, time’s up,” Madam Pomfrey called, bustling across the room. “I can walk you out.”
“Hold on a moment, Madam Pomfrey,” Professor Heilige said, standing from his chair. “May I speak with these gentlemen for a moment?” He spoke with a thick German accent.
“You remember Professor Heilige?” Madam Pomfrey said to the boys. Sirius and James nodded.
“I will interview them separately,” Professor Heilige said. He beckoned to James, who followed him into a back room.
Sirius considered going back to visit Remus again, but one look at Madam Pomfrey’s face told him that it was not going to happen. He sat resignedly. After five minutes, James returned.
“You now, please,” Professor Heilige said, gesturing for Sirius to follow him. Sirius complied.
Professor Heilige led him into a small office in the back of the hospital wing that Sirius had never seen before.
“Please, sit,” Professor Heilige said. He gestured to a chair opposite a cluttered desk that filled most of the room. Sirius sat. “I am conducting research on monitoring and reporting processes in various magical universities, especially as they pertain to medical emergencies, as well as the impact of interpersonal relations on reporting, treatment, and recovery outcomes,” he said, scribbling very fast in his notebook. “First, could you please share your full name and date of birth?”
“Sirius Black. My birthday is November 3, 1959.”
“And you are the one who discovered this emergency, correct?”
“That’s right.”
“Please recount what happened.”
Sirius fidgeted with his robe. He recounted everything that had happened since Remus had started looking ill.
“Thank you for sharing this with me,” he said, still writing. “And could you please share what Professor Dumbledore shared about his injuries?”
Sirius did. He noticed his hands were trembling. Professor Heilige listened soberly, nodding. “A very difficult case,” he muttered. “You must respect his privacy, of course. But if you notice any abnormalities – worsened temper or moodiness – please report it to Madam Pomfrey right away. I have some additional questions for you. Could you please share a little bit about your family of origin?”
“Oh,” Sirius said, surprised. “Well, I’m heir to the House of Black.”
“I see,” he said, scribbling on his notebook. “Is that a wizarding family?”
“Yes,” Sirius said. He was used to everyone knowing his family name. He craned to see what Professor Heilige was writing in his notebook. “We’re well known in Britain. We’re one of the most ancient wizarding families.”
“I see,” he said, showing no reaction to this information. “And how are your grades in school?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
He looked up at Sirius. “I like to take as detailed notes as possible, including full profiles of my interviewees. It helps in the identification of patterns later. Would your teachers say that you are average, above average, or below average?”
“I don’t know. You should ask them.” Sirius suddenly felt that he wanted the interview to end. He stood up. “Thank you for the questions, Professor Heilige. I need to get back now.”
“Of course.”
Sirius opened the door and left. James was waiting for him by the door. Madam Pomfrey led them out. When they reached the hallway, she turned to them.
“Mr. Lupin will be staying in the hospital wing for the rest of the week. He’ll be back in classes next Tuesday at the earliest. His infection was quite developed; if you waited any longer, I’m not sure there would have been much I could do. I cannot risk him doing more damage until he is totally healed. Professor Dumbledore told me that the two of you have agreed to be responsible for bringing notes and homework to him every day so that he does not fall too far behind in classes. You may come to the hospital wing after dinner each evening to drop it off.”
James gave Sirius a surprised look, but Sirius took it in stride. “Will do, Madam Pomfrey,” he said smoothly.
James and Sirius were so keyed up from their visit with Remus that they couldn’t go back to the Common Room. James had the idea of going back to the dueling cavern to collect their robes and shoes, so they carefully made their way back down to the caves, climbed through the hidden entrance, and hiked back to the dueling cavern.
When they squeezed into the cavern, James gave a small yell of surprise. Climbing out behind him, Sirius glimpsed two merpeople diving from the shore into the pool.
They approached the pool warily and looked in. The merpeople were gone.
“They must have gone through the tunnel,” James mused.
Their robes, shoes, and library books were still where they left them. A short way away from the edge was a third book, which Sirius presumed belonged to Remus, lying open and facedown as though dropped in a hurry. Sirius carefully picked it up and smoothed it shut, then gathered his slightly damp robes and shoes, along with his dueling library book.
When they emerged from the caves, James squinted across the grounds, then suddenly swore loudly.
“What’s wrong?” Sirius asked, startled.
“Quidditch tryouts! I totally forgot! They’re today!” James shouted.
Sirius followed James’s gaze. Over the Quidditch pitch, a number of small bird-sized figures were swooping through the air.
“I bet we can still make it!” Sirius said, more hopefully than he felt. “Come on!”
They sprinted at full speed across the lawn, slipping on the leaves that were beginning to litter the ground. The air was ripe with the smell of autumn, dried leaves and the faint scent of smoke. It felt good to run, actually, with the vast grounds stretching before them, and the downward slope propelled them both so fast that they had to concentrate in order to not lose control and fall on their faces. When they arrived at the Quidditch pitch, Sirius felt winded but energized. Even better, it looked as though there was still a crowd of flyers gathered in the pitch.
“All right,” they heard Donavan Wood saying, “I think we’re set…”
“Wait!” shouted James. He ran across the field. “Let me try out!”
Donavan turned. “Sorry, Potter. We’ve just finished try-outs, and it wouldn’t be fair to the rest to make them wait.”
“We had – we had an emergency,” James said desperately.
“Hang on, Wood,” someone called. Sirius turned. A little way away from the gaggle of flyers was a row of older students wearing scarlet robes and holding nice-looking brooms. Sirius assumed this was the existing Gryffindor team. A boy with blazing red hair broke away from the line and jogged towards Donovan Wood; as he approached, Sirius recognized him as Gideon Prewett. Gideon reached Wood and pulled him aside, speaking in a low voice.
James and Sirius exchanged anxious looks.
Wood turned to them, frowning.
“Gideon tells me that you’ve had a difficult weekend. Just this once, I’ll make an exception. Potter, you’re up.”
“Yes! Wait,” James’s face fell. “I didn’t – bring a broom.”
Gideon said something quietly to Wood, then jogged back to where he had been standing. He returned a moment later holding his broom. He offered it to James.
“You can borrow my Silver Arrow,” he said gruffly. “Just don’t break it, okay?”
“Wow! Thanks!” James said, awed.
“Ready now?” Wood said, sounding annoyed. “All right then, I’ll play Keeper.” He grabbed a Quaffle off the ground and threw it to James. “Let’s see how you do.”
Wood soared up to the goalposts and turned, at the ready.
James took a deep breath, then kicked into the air.
“Come on, James!” Sirius shouted.
James started at the middle of the pitch, then leaned forward, shooting ahead. He rapidly picked up speed, rocketing straight for the center goal where Wood waited at the ready.
“He’s going to hit him!” someone yelled. Gideon groaned.
But at the last second, mere feet from Wood, James sharply turned an almost perfect right angle, and tossed the Quaffle through the right hoop.
“Woah!” someone shouted. Shouts and whoops called, not just from the gaggle of students trying out, but from the line of older students watching.
James dropped into a steep dive, grabbing the Quaffle before it hit the ground, and looped back up to goal height.
“Blimey,” Sirius muttered. James was a phenomenal flyer.
James reset in the center of the pitch. He rocketed forward again at full speed, aiming directly at Wood. At the last second, he veered to the right, and Wood dived to block the right hoop. But James was feinting; he yanked the Quaffle back, looped under the hoops and around the pole, and threw the Quaffle through the middle hoop in a perfect layup.
The Quidditch team cheered excitedly.
“Two in a row!” someone shouted enthusiastically.
James reset in the center of the pitch. Even from the ground below, Sirius could see that Wood’s face was crimson with embarrassment.
This time, James shot forward in a tight S-shape, weaving expertly. Wood wavered, not knowing whether to go left or right. James raised to throw to the left, and Wood jerked to the left; James looped under the left hoop and over the right, dropping it easily into the right hoop.
Wood waved and gestured back towards the ground. The Quidditch team was chatting excitedly. James sailed smoothly to the pitch and dismounted gracefully.
“Potter, you’re in,” Wood said shortly. “That was the best tryout I’ve ever seen. You’re better than just about any Chaser I’ve played against.”
James flushed with pleasure.
“Are you going to try out?” Wood asked Sirius.
“What, follow that? No way,” Sirius said, to general laughter. “I wouldn’t want to humiliate him with my superior flying skills,” he added with mock seriousness.
“Right then. Potter, you’re in. Thanks everyone for trying out! Come back next year, and support the team by coming to the matches!”
The Quidditch team, chatting happily, walked over to welcome James to the team.
“Your friend is some flyer,” said a voice nearby. Sirius turned to see Gideon standing next to him, idly holding a bat.
“Thanks for making sure he could try out,” Sirius said gratefully.
“Oh, that wasn’t me. That was my twin, Gideon. I’m Fabian.”
Sirius hesitated, unsure of whether he was joking. He looked back at the crowd chatting with James, and saw the real Gideon holding his Silver Arrow while James smiled and chatted with him gratefully.
“Common mistake, believe it or not,” Fabian grinned.
“Are you both on the team?” Sirius asked, impressed.
“Beaters,” Fabian said. “Best position in the game. Great for stress, bashing the daylights out of things with a bat.”
Sirius chuckled, eyeing the bat in his hand appreciatively.
“So, you’re the Black that got sorted into Gryffindor. Gideon told me about you.”’
Sirius’s smile faded.
“Sorry about him, he can be a git,” Fabian continued with a smile. “That’s why he got to be Prefect and I didn’t. Now he can be a professional git.”
Sirius snorted.
“But his redeeming quality is that he recognizes his gittyness and usually apologizes for it. He felt really bad about the other day, actually. I’d give him another chance.” Fabian clapped him on the shoulder. “See you around then, Black.”
Fabian walked forward to join the throng in congratulating James.
“Now dad has to buy me a new broom!” James said happily. “He promised me the Nimbus 1000 if I made the team. He’s going to be so mad, he thought there was no way I’d make it. I’ll have to write him.”
James had his opportunity at dinner that night, when the evening owl post arrived. He scrawled a note and tied it to the leg of his tawny owl, Radagast. Sirius was so busy watching him that he scarcely noticed an unfamiliar owl drop a wax-sealed letter on his own plate.
Sirius picked it up and flipped it over. The Black family crest was pressed into the seal. He furtively glanced at James, who was absorbed in writing his letter. He tucked the envelope into his robes and scanned the room. Sure enough, several Slytherins were looking in his direction, including Rabastan Lestrange.
“I’ll be right back,” Sirius said, excusing himself. He exited the Great Hall, trying his best to look nonchalant, and made his way to the nearest bathroom. He locked himself in a stall, took out the envelope and broke the seal.
Sirius –
I heard from Rabastan that you have accepted my gracious offer. I am glad that you have seen the path. Keep the coin in your pocket. When it turns cold and begins to glow, go to the dungeons. It will show you the way.
Do not let your family down. You know the consequences.
Bella
P.S. Rabastan mentioned that you have made suitable friends. I am of course very pleased to learn this. When you come, bring Potter.
Sirius let out a low, slow breath, his heart pounding. Whatever hope he had left that Rabastan would not have mentioned Sirius’s answer to Bellatrix evaporated like smoke.
This was it, then. He had made his choice, but it wasn’t a choice. He had accepted because it was the only way to save his friends from whatever Rabastan and the other Slytherins were going to do to them. Now, he knew, there was no turning back. If he backed out, there would be consequences.
He looked again at the postscript. Bring Potter. That wasn’t part of the deal. The deal was that his friends stayed out of it. Sirius crumpled the paper in his fist. He took out his wand. “Incendio,” he muttered, holding the paper as it burst into flames, dropping it, finally, onto the tiled floor and watching it curl into ash. It’s just, it’s a very useful spell, Sirius could almost hear James’s voice, barely stifling laughter, from their first Charms class.
When he returned to the table, he did not mention Bellatrix’s letter, and James was so busy chatting happily about the specifications on the Nimbus 1000 that he didn’t seem to notice that Sirius was subdued.
That night, Sirius couldn’t sleep. He kept imagining Bellatrix showing up here, at Hogwarts, and demanding that he master the dark arts. She would not take no for an answer. And she didn’t even need to be here herself, Sirius knew; her cronies and spies were everywhere.
I’m going to need to learn more about dueling, Sirius thought to himself. He reached to his bedside table and grabbed the thin library book he had set there. “Lumos,” he muttered, pulling the curtains of his four-poster shut.
He opened the book and frowned. Something was off. The pages were full of gruesome illustrations of people in various unnatural positions, with looks of intense pain on their faces. Several pages appeared to have been torn out of it, with much of the latter half of the book missing.
Sirius frowned and closed the book. He looked again at the cover. “One Hundred and Fifty Basic Dueling Spells,” it read in large bubble letters. He opened it again and flipped to the cover page.
“Curses Moste Terrible: Duelling and the Darke Arts” it read in ancient, faded lettering.
Sirius stared at it for a long moment and then slammed the book shut, heart pounding. He peered through his bedcurtains. James was snoring peacefully.
He turned back to the book and flipped the page.
Chapter One: Darke Curses and Hexes, an Introduction.
There was no way this was allowed, Sirius knew. If anything, it should be in the Restricted Section of the library. But someone, it seemed, had swapped the cover of the book to hide what it really was. Sirius allowed himself to read the first few lines.
“Darke hexes and curses are required knowledge for the competente dueller,” it began, “for the only magick powerfull enough to conteste a moste darke curse is an equally powerfull darke curse.”
Well, he would certainly need as much help as he could get, he thought, if he had any hope of defying Bellatrix and her cronies. He felt a thrill of fear and excitement – he couldn’t deny that he was very curious. He gulped and peered again to make sure that James was still sleeping soundly. Then, making up his mind before he could lose his nerve, Sirius sat up in bed, opened the book, and began to read.
Chapter 14: The Haunted House of Hogsmeade
Chapter Text
Chapter 14:
The Haunted House of Hogsmeade
The next day, Sirius and James went together to the hospital wing, hauling all of Remus’s school books and bringing several quills and spare rolls of parchment. Every evening that week, they went together to visit him after dinner, pockets stuffed full of parchment rolls of notes and pastries from the day's meals. Remus was eager for another chocolate croissant, but they hadn't been served any since the weekend. They provided lively updates from each class, including re-enactments of the most embarrassing mistakes other students made, and only left when Madam Pomfrey shooed them out. Professor Heilige, he noticed, was often milling about, making beds or writing in his notebook, but he didn’t talk to them or ply them with any more questions, for which Sirius was grateful.
Often, Remus would hand them thick rolls of parchment containing his classwork from the day before, and they busied themselves delivering the classwork to various professors' offices. It was an excellent way to learn their way around the castle, Sirius found; Filch stopped them at least twice, but since they were delivering Remus’s work with Dumbledore's permission, there was nothing he could give them detention for. They made a point to take the most roundabout route possible, peeking behind every tapestry in the hopes that they would find a secret passage.
They found that they had to make extra effort to avoid the school poltergeist, Peeves, who always seemed to find them during these wanderings, and enjoyed pelting them with spare chalk from the classrooms and howling after them as they ran. Sirius was sure that Peeves had learned their schedule and was lying in wait for them. He seemed especially keen on trying to douse them with water, causing them to scramble madly to protect Remus’s scrolls of work in their arms. At last, James looked up a water-repelling charm and took to casting it on Remus’s schoolwork before they left the hospital wing. They were able to test it the very first time they tried this out, as Peeves blew water out of his mouth at them just as they rounded the corner of the corridor near the hospital wing. James retaliated by firing a jet of water right at Peeves’s face, causing him to zoom away, swearing. He held up the scroll, examining it.
“Well, the charm works at least,” he said, then tucked it back under his arm and continued as normal.
Towards the end of the week, while taking a very roundabout way to Professor Flitwick's office to deliver Remus’s Charms homework, they stumbled upon a hidden passageway behind a statue of a tall wizard with a smug smile on his face. There was a small bronze plaque below the statue's feet. "Gregory the Smarmy, Potioneer, Inventor of Gregory's Unctuous Unction," Sirius read aloud.
"That's a potion that makes the drinker believe that the person who gave it to them is their best friend," James said knowledgeably. "The Ministry's looking into regulating it, though. Dad says it works sort of like the Imperius Curse."
"Wonder where it goes," Sirius said, peering into the passageway. It felt dark and damp.
"Only one way to find out!" James said cheerfully.
Glancing over their shoulders to make sure that no one was watching, they squeezed behind the statue and into the passageway. Unlike the secret passageways behind tapestries that students often used to take shortcuts to their next class, this felt like a cavernous, long tunnel.
"Lumos," Sirius muttered, shining his light ahead. The tunnel seemed to stretch endlessly. Intrigued, he set off down the passageway.
They walked for at least twenty minutes. Something about the darkness, and the sound of their footsteps echoing off of the walls, chilled them into silence. At long last, their wands illuminated a stone staircase ahead. As they came closer, they saw that the stairs were quite short, and led to a trapdoor overhead. Sirius climbed the steps and hesitantly pushed on the trapdoor. It was heavy, as though made of stone. He pushed harder, and it folded backwards as though on a hinge. A shock of cold water poured on Sirius’s head. He leapt back with a small shout, holding Remus’s homework out of the way so that it wouldn't get soaked. Water poured over the edges of the open trapdoor, forming a small rectangular waterfall cascading to the tunnel floor. Sirius hesitated. Then, tucking the parchment into his undershirt, he climbed all the way up and stuck his head out.
He appeared to be in some kind of large, tiered fountain. Sirius lifted himself out into the shallow water, climbing over the ridge of the basin onto a stepping stone on the mossy ground. He looked around. The fountain lay in the center of a small rose garden, surrounded by high, vine-covered walls. At the far end, there was a large rose-covered arch with a small metal garden gate leading to a path beyond. It was dusk, and a blue hue seemed to hang over everything.
"Where are we?" asked James in awe, climbing out behind him.
"It's some kind of secret passage out of the school, I think," said Sirius, taking the parchment safely out of his shirt. "Here, close the trapdoor."
In lieu of a handle, the square of stone had a small statue of a cherub. Identical statues circled the bottom of the fountain. James carefully lowered the door down; it sealed perfectly against the rest of the stone, and the water began to pool in the bottom once more.
They peered through the arch. Whatever they were expecting, it wasn't what lay before them: a quaint little village, smoke curling from the roofs of several houses.
"This must be Hogsmeade," James said in awe. "It's the only village anywhere near Hogwarts."
They crept out onto the cobblestone street, wandering about, until they came to the darkened main street, lined with shops and cafes. One brightly colored store with a large sign that read "Honeydukes" had a large display of brightly colored candies in its front window.
"Look! A candy shop! We can get chocolate for Remus," James said happily. "Except..." his face fell. "I haven't got any gold..."
"Don't worry," Sirius said, procuring a bag of gold from his robes.
"What, do you always just carry around a load of gold in your pocket?"
"It's just something my mother told me I should always do," Sirius shrugged. "Helped us today, didn't it? Come on, let's get some chocolate."
They got some odd looks in Honeydukes, and Sirius realized that they must look very conspicuous in their Hogwarts robes. "Come on," he muttered to James. "Let's check out before anyone asks any questions."
They each dropped an armful of chocolate frogs, chocolate wands, and peppermint toads onto the checkout counter. The man behind the register raised his eyebrows skeptically. Sirius flashed an ingratiating smile at him and dropped his bag of gold onto the counter. This seemed to satisfy the man, who rang them up without a word.
"Most places close in the next few minutes," he informed them with a knowing look.
"We should probably get back before we're missed," James said once they stepped outside into the now totally darkened street. A row of streetlamps had flickered to life, casting an orange glow over the stone. Their pockets were full of sweets, and Sirius was still clutching Remus’s (now very wrinkled but, thankfully, dry) homework in one hand. His shoes and robes were still slightly damp from the fountain, and the autumn night air sent a shiver through them both.
"Well, I think that settles our plans for the weekend," Sirius grinned.
When they finally arrived back at Hogwarts, they darted quietly to Professor Flitwick's office (now locked) and slid the wrinkled parchment under his door.
A return the following day was not possible, however. Wood scheduled their first Quidditch practice in the afternoon, and James worried that they would not have enough time to make it to Hogsmeade and back before practice began.
"Anyway, we should visit Remus and give him his chocolate," James said reasonably.
Remus was surprised and happy to see them Saturday morning. Although his wounds seemed to have healed enough for Madam Pomfrey to have taken off his bandages (it was hard to tell, as the hospital gown still covered his arms), Remus still looked a bit peaky.
"I wasn't sure if you'd come today, since we don't have any homework," he said quietly, avoiding their eyes.
"Soon you might even have to accept that we like you," Sirius said drily.
"We brought you something," James added. He and Sirius emptied their pockets onto the bed. "The House-Elves seemed to have taken a break from chocolate, so we found some."
"How did you...?" Remus said, looking in astonishment at the chocolate frogs, chocolate wands, and peppermint toads strewn across his bed.
"We'll show you when you get out of here," James said in a low voice, with a glance over his shoulder to make sure that Madam Pomfrey wasn't listening. "Just tell Madam Pomfrey we got them by owl. Mind if I have one?"
Remus shook his head and James and Sirius each helped themselves to a Chocolate Frog.
"Artemesia Lufkin," James read from his card. He offered it to Remus. "You want it? I've already got five of her."
"Me too," Remus said, his mouth full of chocolate. "Thanks, though. How's Peter doing? I haven't heard from him."
"Oh, you know, the usual," James said, rolling his eyes. "Still can't levitate a feather, and when he tried to transfigure milk into butter it exploded all over the classroom."
"He doesn't exactly know you're here," Sirius added apologetically. "No one except me and James saw you, and Dumbledore wanted to keep it that way. I don't think any visitors are even allowed in the hospital wing except for us."
"That makes sense," Remus said thoughtfully.
"D'you still think you'll be out of here by Tuesday?" James asked hopefully.
Remus hesitated. "I'm not sure. We'll have to see."
"All right, that's enough for today!" Madam Pomfrey said loudly, rounding the corner so suddenly that they all jumped. "Out!"
"Enjoy the chocolate, Remus!" James called over his shoulder as they were hustled out of the room.
Sirius came with James to the broom shed, where he was to collect a school-issued broom for Quidditch practice until he got his own. To their dismay, the shed was locked.
“Let’s try… alohomora!” James tapped the lock, and it sprung open. “Excellent.”
When they arrived and James kicked off, Sirius watched the team for a bit from the stands, enjoying the cool, fresh air. After a bit, he reached into his robes and pulled out his book. He had taken to carrying it around with him, along with Bellatrix’s coin, which, if it had turned cold, Sirius had not noticed.
Glancing around nervously, although no one was there, Sirius leaned back in his seat, propping his feet on the back of the seat in front of him, and began to read.
Before mastering the moste powerfull darke curses, the dueller muste first master the basic jinxes and hexes. Basic hexes may include the affixment of animal parts to the opponent. These include the Fur Hex, the Horn-growing Hex, and the Tail-growing hex… these maye be used to great effect to distract and dismay one’s opponent…
This wasn’t so bad, Sirius thought. He imagined Bellatrix springing horns out of her head and decided it would rather be an improvement.
While James flew overhead, Sirius absently practiced the spells, aiming at nothing in particular, until a decent whoosh of light was reliably emitted at each hex.
An hour later, James landed, windswept and flushed.
Wood called down to him as he circled overhead. “Not bad, Potter. But make sure to get yourself your own broom before our first game!”
On Sunday, James said that he was a bit sore and tired from his first practice and wasn’t particularly in the mood to hike back to Hogsmeade. They could go next weekend, with Remus.
They visited Remus again that evening, and were dismayed to see that he looked decidedly worse. He was quite pale and ill-looking.
On Monday evening when they arrived as usual, the door to the hospital wing was locked. They banged on the door for a full five minutes, but neither Madam Pomfrey nor Professor Heilige answered.
"Wonder what's up?" James said, frowning.
On Tuesday, Remus didn’t come to breakfast, and he wasn’t at any of their morning classes. When he still wasn’t back by their afternoon Astronomy class, Sirius was beginning to worry.
"You don't suppose he took a turn for the worse?" James said anxiously.
However, when they returned after dinner to drop off their books before heading to the hospital wing, they opened the door to find Remus sitting quietly on his bed, reading a book.
"Remus!" they both shouted.
Remus looked up at them and smiled wanly. "I nearly had to bribe Madam Pomfrey, but she finally let me go."
"We were just going to the hospital wing! We tried yesterday but no one answered. Have you eaten?" James said excitedly.
"Madam Pomfrey force-fed me some beef and potatoes before she'd let me go. I'm all set."
"You want to come get some more chocolate? We can show you how we got it!" James said.
"The chocolate was amazing. I ate it all last night, actually, and I still have a bit of a stomach ache. And I'm afraid Madam Pomfrey only let me go under the condition that I promised to go to bed early. How about this weekend, though? Can Peter come?"
That Saturday after breakfast, Sirius and James brought Remus and Peter to the statue of Gregory the Smarmy. They slid behind the statue into the tunnel. Sirius and James marched confidently ahead while Remus and Peter trailed behind, looking around wonderingly.
"We should be there in about twenty minutes. It comes out in the middle of a fountain, so be careful you don't get wet," James said excitedly. "Wait til you see Hogsmeade, they've got everything. Candy shops, Quidditch supplies, a little place to eat lunch...."
Remus stopped short. "Hogsmeade?" he asked.
Peter looked from Remus to James nervously. “What’s Hogsmeade?”
"It's a little wizarding village," James continued enthusiastically. "It reminds me of Godric's Hollow, except you can't do magic in public even in Godric's Hollow."
"Isn't Hogsmeade off limits to students?" Remus asked, frowning.
"Come on, where's your sense of adventure?" James chided him. "No one will have any idea. If anyone asks, we're ten years old."
Sirius sidled up next to him. "Come on, Remus. Wait until you see Honeydukes! Every kind of candy you can imagine!"
Remus looked from James to Sirius doubtfully, but Sirius’s comment about candy seemed to soften him, and he began to walk again.
“There’s the stairwell,” James said at last. “It comes out into a fountain, look.”
James went first this time, peering through the trapdoor to make sure that no one was in the garden. One after the other, the boys crawled out of the passage and into the walled garden.
“What if we got ourselves some disguises?” Sirius asked, suddenly struck by the idea. “The four of us in our Hogwarts robes might stick out a bit. I saw a sign for Gladrags Wizardwear last time.”
Sure enough, there was a sign at the end of the street pointing towards Gladrags Wizardwear, which was only an additional block away. They walked inside, doorbell jingling, and Sirius suddenly remembered, with a pang of guilt, his last visit to a robe shop: Madam Malkins.
This store had racks and racks of clothing, robes of all different colors and sizes. They found their way to the children’s section and began looking through the selection.
“Nice idea, Sirius,” James said next to him.
“I’d always change into Muggle clothes when I’d walk around London,” Sirius said, with a sudden stab of nostalgia. He picked out a blue-gray robe. Tipsy always used to say that gray robes brought out his eyes. James grabbed a scarlet robe with gold trim.
“Which are you going to get, Remus?” Sirius asked.
"Oh, that's all right," Remus said, turning slightly red.
"But you have to!" Sirius said. “It’s our disguise.”
"It's just... I didn't bring any money," Remus muttered, looking down.
"Why didn’t you…” Sirius began, but stopped when he saw James give him a warning look and slightly shake his head. “It’s all right,” he said, pivoting. “Pick out what you want, my treat.”
"I couldn't..." Remus said, looking embarrassed.
“Look, you’ve got to, or all of our covers are blown,” Sirius said bracingly. “If you don’t pick one out, I will. Oh, look at that one!” Sirius reached for a florid pink one trimmed with lace.
“Fine!” Remus said, torn between irritation and amusement. He chose an emerald green robe with silver lining. “What about you, Peter?”
Peter was holding a robe colored in ghastly, putrid orange. “This one seems festive!” he said hopefully.
“Yeah, you can dress up like a pumpkin,” James said seriously. “You’d blend right in…”
Sirius snorted despite himself. Peter put it back on the hanger, bright red.
“How about that dark blue one, Peter?” Remus said kindly.
Peter grabbed the one Remus was pointing at, and the four boys went to check out.
As soon as they stepped outside, they pulled their robes over their uniforms. Sirius caught sight of his reflection in the store window and looked approvingly at his disguise. They all looked relatively good, he thought, even Peter; the dark blue made his watery eyes stand out pleasantly.
Feeling much more comfortable, they explored the village further. In Honeydukes, James set off to a wall display of Firecracker Crackers next to the register. Remus and Peter hovered near Sirius, who was looking at the shelves close to the front doors. He picked out a few Sugar Quills and some Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. Remus, Sirius noticed, wasn't collecting anything.
"Come on, grab a Sugar Quill,” he chided him. “You can suck on it in class and look like you're thinking about your answer. And look! Pepper Imps, they make you smoke in the mouth. I'm definitely getting some of those." Remus gave him a sideways look and Sirius added, "Oh come on, I paid for James last time. It's no problem. What do you want? Let's see, you definitely need a sugar quill, and some Pepper Imps..."
After he finally convinced Remus to pick out a small collection of candy, he checked out behind James. "Just put your stuff there on the counter," Sirius instructed Remus, who did so, looking very embarrassed.
“Hang on, I’ve got these,” James said. “You got his robes.”
Peter bought some Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans behind them, sliding his silver across the counter.
Pockets stuffed with candies, they wandered up the street, which was called High Street, until they came to a pub called the Three Broomsticks. It was nearly lunchtime, so they ducked inside to take a look around. It was decently crowded. Sirius scanned the tables and, satisfied that he did not see anyone familiar, nonetheless selected a table near the back of the restaurant in case anyone walked in.
“Where are your parents?” asked a kindly looking, older witch who approached their table holding a small notepad.
“They’ve gone shopping,” Sirius lied easily. “They gave us some money to get some lunch by ourselves.”
“Would you like anything to drink? Our special today is pumpkin fizz.”
“We’ll have four of those, please,” James said. “This one’s on me,” he added, once the witch had walked away. “I owe you one for last week,” he said to Sirius, who had opened his mouth in protest.
When the witch returned with their drinks, they ordered sandwiches and chips. They grinned at each other over the tops of their pumpkin fizzes, surprised at their own daring. To Sirius, the world felt vast, like one big waiting adventure, if only they were daring enough to take it.
Sirius noticed Remus straining to listen to the next table over, and looked curiously at the table next to them. Two middle-aged witches, each with pointed hats decorated with various bangles, were engaged deeply in conversation. Sirius strained to listen.
“… thought someone was being tortured or something, but when the men tried to get in, no one could. Who builds a house and then boards up the windows and doors? They must be sealed with a powerful spell, not even Sean Willoughby could break in.”
“And no one heard anything for weeks, then?” said the other woman in a hushed voice.
“No, no one. But then on Monday, you heard it, didn’t you, Ruby?”
“Don’t know who didn’t. Very scary!” Ruby said, setting down her napkin and staring at the first woman with wide eyes. “I swear it sounded like a small child was being murdered by a wild beast! I don’t know, Doris, if it happens again, perhaps we ought to call the Ministry!”
“You know what I think it is?” Doris whispered, leaning in so that Sirius had to strain to hear. “Ghosts. Real vicious ones, by the sound of it. Perhaps they had nowhere to go, and someone built them a house to be rid of them.”
“Sandwiches?” The kindly old lady had returned to their table balancing four plates, each holding very thick roast beef sandwiches sliced down the middle with little pickles speared through the top. “Everything all right, dear?” she asked Remus.
“I don’t know, Doris,” Ruby said doubtfully the next table over. “It really sounded like a person screaming.”
“All ghosts sound like people, Ruby,” Doris said scornfully.
“Begging your pardon,” their waitress said, setting down their plates in front of them rather harder than necessary before stepping to the next table. “But you’re scaring our young customers.” She raised her eyebrows, gesturing in their direction. “Might you please consider discussing a different topic when children can hear?” She gave Doris and Ruby a stern glare.
“So sorry, Madam Bancroft,” Ruby said hurriedly. “We didn’t see them there.”
“But surely you’re curious about the new house on the hill,” Doris pressed.
“I’m curious as to why you do not understand my suggestion to take this topic of conversation elsewhere,” Madam Bancroft said severely.
“Come on, Doris, you were going to tell me about your new little niece, remember?” Ruby prompted her with a penitent look at Madam Bancroft.
Madam Bancroft turned back to them. “You just enjoy your sandwiches, young men. You know us silly old ladies, we like to tell ghost stories when Halloween is so near.” She left them to their food.
“We’ve got to go,” James said at once, his face shining with anticipation. “A real haunted house! I’ve only read about them.”
“Hogwarts is haunted,” Peter pointed out.
“Not really,” James replied, rolling his eyes. “It’s more like they work there or something. I’m talking about scary ghosts, you know, Halloween ghosts.”
“The Bloody Baron is pretty scary,” Peter said, shuddering.
“Come on,” James continued, ignoring Peter. “Sirius, are you in?”
“Yeah, I’ll come,” Sirius said agreeably. “Think we can figure out how to break in?”
“Worth a try! Let’s go when we finish eating. She said it’s just up the hill.”
“Oh! You know what, I’ve just remembered!” Remus said suddenly, clapping a hand to his forehead. “I promised Professor Flitwick I would come by his office this afternoon to practice Levitation Charms. I’m way behind.”
“We can teach you Levitation Charms, Remus,” James said easily.
“Hey! Maybe we can levitate some stones or something and throw them at the windows!” Sirius suggested, suddenly inspired.
“No, sorry, Professor Flitwick is expecting me. I can’t believe I forgot,” Remus said worriedly, standing suddenly.
“All right, hang on, we’re not done with our sandwiches yet!” James said. “You can’t go back by yourself. Fine, we’ll come back a different day. Just sit down and finish your sandwich, okay?”
“We could come back on Halloween,” Sirius said with a mysterious smile. “Haunted house on Halloween? Who’s in?”
“Great idea!” James agreed enthusiastically. “All right then, it’s settled. Sirius and I, and whoever else wants to come, are coming back on Halloween.”
When they made it back to the castle, Remus hurried off to Professor Flitwick’s office, and James, Sirius, and Peter went back to the Common Room. They made it halfway back when Sirius remembered that they were still wearing their colorful disguise robes, and they had just finished taking them off and stuffing them into their uniform robes when none other than Filch rounded the corner.
“Well, well, well,” Filch leered. “If it isn’t the little firsties, out of their Common Room again.”
“We’re on our way back,” James said firmly, a note of defiance in his voice.
“That’s right, Filch, we’re not doing anything wrong,” Sirius chimed in. “Sorry to bother you this fine day.”
“Have a smashing one!” James said, shaking his hand. And without another word, James and Sirius set off down the hall.
Sirius looked over his shoulder. “Oy! Peter! Come on with us to the Common Room!” Peter had frozen in front of Filch, seemingly too scared to move, but at Sirius’s invitation he scurried after them. Filch, who had nothing to get them on, squinted his eyes at them suspiciously but did not stop them.
“What’s the password again?” James asked. “Right. ‘Pumpkin juice.’” The portrait of the Fat Lady nodded and swung open.
“There you are, Potter!” Gideon Prewett called, striding up to them, his scarlet Prefect badge pinned smartly to his robe. Sirius immediately tried to look as innocent as possible, and saw James quickly rearrange his own expression into one of polite puzzlement. “Where have you been? This arrived for you at lunch.”
Gideon held out a very long package wrapped in brown paper. “Special permission from Professor McGonagall,” he added, grinning.
“It’s probably my old Bright Spark!” James said, ripping the paper off eagerly. “No way,” he gasped. A beautiful, sleek broom floated about three feet off the ground. The golden words Nimbus 1000 glimmered across the handle. “I can’t believe he actually did it!”
“Very nice,” Sirius said admiringly.
“Now you won’t have to fly on that old floor-sweeper,” Gideon said happily. “Our first game’s just over three weeks away, this’ll give you time to get used to it in practice.”
Chapter 15: Eaters of Death
Chapter Text
Chapter 15:
Eaters of Death
The next few weeks of October went quickly. Classwork and homework were piling up, and all of the students became focused. The Common Room was increasingly filled with students poring over books at every table. Remus seemed especially worried; although he had kept up with his classwork and homework, he was quite behind on Potions, having missed several brews, and Professor Slughorn had scheduled him for three makeup classes, and Professors Flitwick and McGonagall had each assigned him makeup courses for practical Charms and Transfiguration. For some reason, Slughorn asked James to come to the makeup Potions classes, but as James had Quidditch practice, he instead asked Sirius. Sirius supposed that Slughorn thought it would be helpful for Remus to have a brewing partner, but Sirius, as much as he liked Remus, would have much preferred to watch James practice Quidditch. He had taken to using the time to read and practice spells from his dueling book. It was far from the prying eyes of teachers, and if anything went too terribly wrong, he figured that he was outside and pretty far from people.
The spells had moved into increasing complexity, although Sirius did not find them yet particularly nefarious. There was one that caused sardines to come out of someone’s nose, and another that reversed the direction of their kneecaps. The most questionable spell so far was a Stinging Hex, which, although it sounded painful, Sirius couldn’t imagine it could be much worse than a common bee sting.
It was also hard to know whether Sirius was even getting the spells right. So far, he had just been casting them in midair, but he was starting to wish for a chance to try them out on someone. But that was out of the question for a friendly duel, so Sirius had paused at the Stinging Hex and was reviewing the various spells he had learned so far, figuring that in a real fight, it might be hard to keep the spells straight.
Sirius reluctantly tabled his outdoor review sessions to join Remus for his make-up Potions, and on several nights instead of sitting in the cool evening breeze he was hunched over a foul-smelling cauldron in the dark, dank dungeons.
Remus, at least, was good company. Although he seemed stressed with the large load of schoolwork plus make-up practical spells and Potions, he had returned to good humor, and although Sirius had committed to keeping Remus cheerful as much as possible, it was often Remus who cheered up Sirius when he was feeling sullen on those evenings. Indeed, when his make-up Potions ended, it was with some regret that Sirius stopped attending with Remus, and he even asked Professor McGonagall if he should come to Remus’s makeup Transfiguration practical lessons.
“What on earth for?” she asked severely, looking at him over her square-rimmed glasses. “You and Mr. Potter are far ahead of the rest of the class. Enjoy the fresh air, Mr. Black, for goodness’ sake. I shall be more than fine with Mr. Lupin. If Mr. Pettigrew should like to join, however… indeed, Mr. Lupin, please instruct Mr. Pettigrew to join you for these lessons, goodness knows he could use some review.”
As the weeks rolled into late October, the sun began setting earlier and earlier, and the nights became brisker. Sirius began to bring a heavy cloak with him to the Quidditch pitch, and mastered a kind of blue flame that he could set on the chair next to him to keep him warm. In the light of the flame, he was able to read ahead in his book.
He had decided that, after all, there was no need to stop at the Stinging Hex. He had the incantations memorized backwards and forwards, and he was curious about what was coming next. He was on Ear-Shriveling curses and Boil-Producing curses. He had also taken to bringing a small notebook with him to jot down the names of the spells and what they did, to make review simpler.
Meanwhile, the school was getting decorated for Halloween. The hippogriff dung had done the trick, it seemed, for Hagrid’s pumpkins had grown to the size of large horses and were now stacked festively throughout the Great Hall and the Entrance Hall.
Halloween itself fell on a Sunday. A cloud of live bats swarmed above their heads, the pumpkins were carved and glowing, and at least a thousand candles floated a few feet above their heads. Third years and higher departed for an outing to Hogsmeade, and Sirius remembered that he and James wanted to go back to the haunted house.
“We’ll have to go tonight,” James said. “No way we can risk going during the day, Professor McGonagall is going to be there – what if she spots us?”
“A haunted house will be scarier at night anyway,” Sirius said. “Let’s go after the Halloween feast.”
Sirius sat with James, Remus, and Peter for the feast that evening, noticing with consternation that Remus seemed to be looking down again. Despite the bountiful food of every variety, Remus didn’t seem to be eating much.
“Come on then, Remus,” Sirius said in a businesslike way, scooping mashed yams from the serving tray onto his plate. “It’s a feast. You’re supposed to eat.”
Remus smiled wanly and took a single bite of food.
“You should come tonight,” James said encouragingly. “To the haunted house in Hogsmeade. It’ll be fun!”
Remus shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“We’re not leaving you alone on Halloween.” Sirius meant to say it lightly, but it came out sounding somewhat sharper than he intended.
Remus hesitated. “All right, I’ll come,” he said finally. “I don’t think we’ll be able to get into the haunted house, though. Can we get some pumpkin fizz and candy afterwards, if we don’t hear any ghosts?”
“Definitely,” James said, satisfied.
As they left the Great Hall, however, Sirius saw, to his great displeasure, Rabastan Lestrange and the two Slytherins who had been with him in the hallway, Amycus and Alecto, approaching him at the exit. Lestrange stepped in front of Sirius, blocking his way. In the corner of his eye, Sirius saw James reach into his robes, withdrawing his wand.
“Do you have it, Black?” Lestrange asked Sirius menacingly.
Sirius lifted his chin defiantly, staring him straight in his hollow eyes. “Yeah, I got it.”
“It’s tonight.”
Sirius’s heart sank and his stomach gave an unpleasant turn.
“We’re expecting you,” Lestrange growled.
Sirius didn’t dare tell them that he already had plans. They swept past them, thuggishly pushing smaller students out of the way as they stepped from the Great Hall into the Entrance Hall.
As he watched them go, Sirius felt three pairs of eyes watching him closely. He couldn’t bring himself to meet James’s accusing stare, which was boring into him. Sirius briefly thought wildly about making up some excuse not to go to Hogsmeade, but he knew it would be futile. Instead, he met James’s stare with a hollow stare of his own.
“I can’t come tonight.”
“Sirius,” James began warningly.
“You should go.”
“You can’t do this,” James said fiercely.
“I have to go,” he snapped. “It doesn’t mean anything. I’ll come back when it’s over.”
Remus and Peter were watching him apprehensively, looking unsure.
James also glanced at them, then took two steps towards Sirius, putting a hand on his shoulder and pulling him to the side of the entryway so that students could pass.
“Is this the thing you told me about?” James asked in a low voice, glancing back to make sure that Remus and Peter couldn’t hear.
Sirius nodded tersely.
“What if they try to force you to do something?”
“I can take care of myself,” Sirius replied shortly.
“Against Lestrange and those two creeps? What if,” James dropped his voice even lower, “What if Bellatrix is there?”
“If Bellatrix is there, then she will know for sure if I don’t show. I told her I would come.”
“I thought you said you didn’t care what she thought!” James hissed, looking confused and upset. “You told me that you have nothing to do with her… that she did all of those things to you….”
“Then you understand what she’s capable of,” Sirius said, looking directly at James’s scared face. “That’s why I have to go.”
“Since when is Sirius Black scared of anything?” James challenged hotly. “Since when are you worried about saving your own skin?”
“My own skin?” Sirius snarled before he could stop himself. James stopped short, searching his face. A passing group of second year girls looked at them curiously as they passed.
“What’s she said she’s going to do, Sirius?” James said quietly.
Sirius avoided his eyes.
“This has to do with us, hasn’t it?” James asked, indicating with a jerk of his head back to Remus and Peter. “The three of us?”
Sirius swallowed. “It’s best if you bring Remus and Peter to Hogsmeade like you planned,” he said. “Try and stay away from the castle as much as possible tonight. When you get back, just go straight to the Common Room, okay?”
“Yeah, no way,” James said shortly. “Sorry, Sirius. Can’t do that.”
“James,” Sirius growled. “This isn’t a game.”
“I know it isn’t,” James said angrily. They glared at each other.
“I’m coming with you,” James said finally.
“No,” Sirius replied curtly. “I’m doing this on my own.”
Sirius pushed past James into the Entrance Hall, joining the throng of students on their way back to their Common Rooms. When the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws split off to go up the stairs, Sirius followed the crowd of Slytherins and Hufflepuffs as they headed through the hall and down the stairs to the dungeons.
He needed to get to the dungeons so that he would be ready for later that evening without risking being stopped, but he needed a way to blend in on the way down. Ahead, he spotted Rebecca Lestrange, her sheet of black hair obscuring most of her face. He wondered if she had also been told to come tonight. She was walking a bit apart from the other Slytherins, so Sirius took the opportunity and fell in next to her.
“Hey,” he said.
She looked at him, surprised. “Hey.” She tucked her hair behind one ear.
They turned a corner in the winding hallway.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but… aren’t you in Gryffindor?” she said after a minute.
“That I am,” Sirius replied conversationally.
“Sooo….”
Sirius cast her a politely puzzled look.
“Are you, like, trying to break into the Slytherin Common Room or something?”
“Depends. Would you help me out?”
Rebecca cast him a disbelieving look and didn’t reply. Instead, she said, “You better not let my brother see you down here.”
“Who, Rabastan? He’s the one who invited me!”
Her face clouded. She cast a furtive look around, then leaned in. “He doesn’t like you very much.”
“Yeah, I gathered that,” Sirius replied.
“If you’re telling the truth, that Rabastan invited you, I wouldn’t go,” she continued somberly. “I’m serious.”
“Technically, I’m Sirius,” he replied.
She rolled her eyes and smiled despite herself. “Still making that joke? Hasn’t it gotten old since we were, like, four?”
“I think it gets funnier,” Sirius shrugged.
Rebecca giggled.
“See? You laughed.”
Rebecca shook her head, suppressing a smile.
“Surprised you remember that joke, actually,” Sirius said thoughtfully.
“Surprised? It was your one line.”
“My one line?” Sirius said, pretending to be affronted. “I have more than one line.”
“I’d love to hear them, then.”
Sirius opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I don’t seem to remember you being this sassy.”
“You’d be surprised,” she said wryly.
“I guess I’ve gotta watch out for you quiet girls.”
“Guess so. So, I’m not going to get you into the Common Room. It’s nothing personal, it’s just that there’s at least a half a dozen people in there who would love an excuse to end you.”
“That’s a shame, I thought I was popular.”
“I’m sure you do. Anyway, in all seriousness,” she caught herself, and Sirius raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth, causing her to interrupt herself with a laugh. “In all sincerity, I think you should probably head back. I don’t think the dungeons are the right place to be tonight.”
“Why’s that?” Sirius asked lightly. “Something going on?”
The humor dropped from her face. “I think so.”
“Like what?”
“I’m not sure. I think Rabastan is involved though…” she trailed off, then suddenly looked at him, eyebrows narrowing in suspicion. “Wait a minute.”
Sirius grimaced apologetically.
“So, you’ve come back, then,” she said in a low voice. “Back into the fold. I really thought you got out.”
Sirius studied her. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well, you’re a Black,” she said simply, as though that explained it.
“And you’re a Lestrange. So what?”
“I’m a Lestrange, and I’m in Slytherin. Just like I’m supposed to be.” She said the final words bitterly.
Sirius looked sideways at her. “You know, you can do whatever you want.”
She gave a short derisive laugh. “That’s easy for you to say.”
“It’s not, actually,” Sirius said indignantly, stopping and looking at her.
“Sure looks easy from here,” she said curtly.
“Well then, that shows what you know,” Sirius replied angrily.
“Or maybe what you don’t.”
“Right then. Enjoy the rest of your night, Lestrange.”
Sirius broke away from the throng and slipped into the nearest classroom, careful not to slam the door as it clicked shut, though he felt the anger coursing through him. What did she know anyway? He ran his hands over his face, his frustration ebbing away, replaced by a twinge of regret. She had been nice enough, for the most part. He wished he hadn’t lost his temper.
The door opened and he turned, half expecting Rebecca to have come in after him. But, to his great surprise, it was James, carefully closing the door behind him.
“What are you doing here?” Sirius hissed, feeling both very irritated and relieved.
“I already told you,” James said defiantly.
“How did you get here?”
“With some difficulty. I told Mark Flint I forgot something in Potions. Took me forever to shake him. Lucky I saw you come in here. So… is this where it’s going down?”
“What? No.”
“So where is it?”
“You’re not coming.”
“Obviously, I am.”
Sirius sat on a desktop, giving in. “Where are Remus and Peter?” he asked defeatedly.
“I told them they could go to Hogsmeade without us. But I think Peter was too scared, so they just went back to the Common Room. So, am I going to need a disguise or something?”
“No,” Sirius said, his stomach squirming with guilt as he remembered Bellatrix’s command to bring James. He hadn’t told James about it. “No, I don’t think so.”
“And how do we get there, then?”
Sirius took the coin out of his pocket and held it out on his palm.
“This thing is supposed to tell us how to get there. But first it’s supposed to go all cold. It still feels pretty regular to me.”
He handed it to James, who turned it over in his hand.
“What’s this picture? A skull with a snake?”
Sirius shrugged, taking it back.
“Guess we can just wait here,” Sirius said. “We’re pretty far into the dungeons.”
They settled in, the minutes ticking away. James procured his model Snitch, letting it go and snatching it from the air idly. Sirius leaned back in his chair and pulled his dueling book from his robes.
“Anything good in there?” James asked, peering over. “Wouldn’t mind practicing a bit.”
Sirius snapped the book shut, making James jump. “No, that’s all right,” he said hastily
Unwilling to take the book back out, and with nothing else to do, Sirius put his head on the desk, cushioning it with one arm, and firmly clamped the other hand on the coin in his pocket. He closed his eyes.
What felt like five minutes later, Sirius woke with a start. The coin was pressing with painful cold into his palm.
“Is it doing something?” James asked. He sat up; he had been lying across the large teacher’s desk, tossing the Snitch into the air.
Sirius pulled out the coin and held it flat in his palm. He let out a small shout of surprise. From the top of the coin, as though squeezing out of it, a large dome of green light emerged, growing wider until it was nearly as thick as Sirius’s torso. It pushed outward, and a moment later Sirius realized that the green light was in the form of a snake’s head, its body slithering out of the freezing coin. When its tail finally flopped onto the floor, the hologram of the snake was at least ten feet long. It wove towards the classroom door, which magically swung open.
Sirius cast a sober look at James, then stood from his chair and followed it out of the classroom.
They walked in total silence, the green glow from the snake reflecting eerily off of the walls. It slipped behind a suit of armor, revealing a narrow stairwell plunging downward. They descended for what felt like hours, then emerged into an ancient passage with an arched stone ceiling a few feet above their heads.
Finally, the luminescent snake came to an arched wooden door. It slithered directly through the wood.
Sirius pulled open the door and stepped through. He was in a large, circular, stone chamber with an arched ceiling that extended at least thirty feet high. In the center of the chamber, a wide circle of chairs faced an ancient stone pedestal. The stone walls were lit by torches, and halfway between each torch stood tall dark figures like sentinels, cloaked and hooded. Sirius wondered if they were statues, until one turned its head towards him. In the torchlight, Sirius saw that the figure wore a mask that looked like a skull. He shuddered.
Other students were crowding into the room, and Sirius realized that there were entrances around the whole chamber.
A cloaked, masked figure approached them and gestured towards the high-backed chairs that formed a circle in the center of the room. “Sit,” he commanded. Sirius recognized the voice as belonging to Rabastan Lestrange. Without looking at James, Sirius walked forward and chose the seat nearest to where they were standing. He felt James sit next to him. Sirius strained to see inside the hoods of the figures by the wall, but with no luck. They reminded him of pictures he’d seen of Dementors.
As the various students sat down, Sirius scanned their faces. Some looked determined, others nervous, others downright scared. Many seemed to be much older.
He heard James breathe in sharply next to him. A moment later, Sirius knew why. Across the room, his greasy hair unmistakable, was Severus Snape, his dark eyes roving restlessly around the room. They settled on James, and a look of loathing spread across his face. James glared back at him with a blazing look. He took his wand out and rested it on his lap. Sirius did the same.
Within minutes, the room was full. No one spoke; an eerie silence rested over the chamber. Looking across the room, Sirius’s stomach gave a funny jolt: Rebecca Lestrange had just taken a seat, looking nervous. Her eyes found Sirius almost immediately. She blinked at him impassively and then looked away, her sheet of black hair obscuring the side of her face as she scanned the room.
A hand clamped his shoulder. “My dear cousin,” a familiar voice breathed in his ear. A thrill of terror shot through him. She couldn’t be here, at Hogwarts, it wasn’t possible…
Sirius stiffly turned his head, and found his face inches away from the face that had haunted his nightmares and daymares for months: Bellatrix Black. Like the sentinels lining the walls, she was cloaked, but, unlike them, she wore no mask. Her eyes were alight with a kind of mania, her lips curled into a smile.
Immediately, Sirius’s mind and expression went blank. He had learned long ago that showing fear to Bellatrix was like bleeding in front of a werewolf.
“My dear cousin,” Sirius replied haughtily. “What a delight to see you, Bella. I trust you are well?”
“I am well,” she said softly, “though I have been troubled of late, dear cousin, by rumors of your disloyalty.”
“I cannot help where I am sorted, Bella, any more than I can help who my family is,” he replied cooly. “But I have come when you called. I trust that is enough?”
James was looking from Sirius to Bellatrix, fear and doubt written across his face.
“And look, he’s handsome too.” She traced a finger along James’s clenched jaw. “Well done, Sirius, bringing him here as I asked,” she said softly.
“He came freely,” Sirius said, keeping his voice steady.
James was staring at Sirius with a horrible mixture of fear and betrayal blossoming across his face.
“Of course he did,” Bellatrix jeered, winking at Sirius. “You have always been quite good at getting what you want from people, dear cousin, and making them think it was their idea. You have convinced him to come of his own accord, then. Even better. He’s powerful, from what Rabastan tells me, and blood as pure as water. Very good. Your parents would be proud.” Her eyes returned to James.
“I feared that I would have to harm you, Potter, to remind Sirius of his priorities. But he has done well in bringing you here.”
“Blood is blood, Bella,” Sirius replied, hoping to draw Bellatrix’s attention away from James. “You had no reason to doubt.”
“Indeed. And now your dear friend will also be invited to join in this most auspicious occasion,” she leered.
“He’s not a particularly dear friend,” Sirius replied with a haughty glance at James. “We’ve only just met. But his blood is pure and he hails from an ancient family.”
Bellatrix seemed satisfied. She turned and strode to the center of the room. Sirius couldn’t bring himself to look at James’s shellshocked expression. Shame was clenching at his throat.
“Some of you know why you are here,” Bellatrix continued, now addressing the full room. “And some of you do not. Some of you may believe that you are here because you are talented. Some of you may believe that you are here because your blood is pure. Some of you may believe that you are here because you are willing to do what it takes to get where we must go.
“I am here to tell you now that no matter why you believe you are here, the true reason you are here is because you have been chosen. You have been handpicked, selected by the all-powerful and all-knowing Dark Lord, to enter into his service. Our Master has called you by name, and you are his.”
A low, eerie chant filled the room, and it took Sirius a moment to realize that it was coming from the cloaked figures surrounding them.
“What is his name, our lord and master? His name is Heir of Slytherin.”
The chanting suddenly turned into a rhythmic hiss, then resumed.
“His name is Parselmouth. His name is Stealer of Life. His name is Eater of Death. He knows your thoughts, your hopes, your dreams. Only through him may they be realized. Your dreams of freedom! Your dreams of greatness! Your dreams of immortality!”
The chanting had swelled to an almost deafening volume.
“I say his name because in his mercy he has chosen me to proclaim his coming, but his name is never to be spoken! I speak it now. He is the Dark Lord, and his is name is… Lord Voldemort!”
The chanting stopped abruptly. Bellatrix threw her arm over her head, clutching a very large, ancient-looking scroll. The sleeve of her robe slid down, revealing a large tattoo on her inner forearm, bright red: a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth, and stars over its head, exactly like the imprint on the coin in Sirius’s pocket. There was a ringing silence.
“I have given you his most sacred name. You are among the first to know it. Now you owe us a name. Yours.” She unrolled the scroll and placed it on the ancient stone pedestal in the center of the circle.
“Join us now. We will be free from the crushing heel of our Muggle overlords, who presume to dictate the rules of our lives!”
“How dare they!” yelled one of the cloaked figures.
“Free from the filth of Mudbloods who jealously covet the greatness of true witches and wizards!”
More roars of approval rose up from the cloaked figures, and some of the students joined in.
“Free even from the reign of death. You, too, may become eaters of death! Sign your name, sign this oath of loyalty, and we will be bound together in our quest forever. You will be bound to secrecy, bound to loyalty, bound to the Dark Lord. Perhaps one day, he will even find you worthy enough to become a Death Eater. Who is first?” She held high over her head a large black quill, turning slowly around the circle of students.
“Me!” cried a boy who looked as though he was around fifteen. He was bulky and hunched, and his voice was deep. “Vincent Crabbe, Lady Bellatrix!” He lumbered forward, took the pen, and looked around confusedly. “Where’s the ink?”
“You will see,” Bellatrix said, lip curling into a wicked smile. “Sign!”
Crabbe signed his name, and gasped. When he stepped away, Sirius saw ‘Vincent Crabbe’ shining in red blood on the back of his hand.
A boy named Gregory Goyle was next. One by one, the students filed to the pedestal, signing their names. Sirius saw Phineas Avery, Mordrey Mulciber, and Severus Snape each sign.
The masked figure who had told them to sit, Rabastan, strode across the room to Rebecca and escorted her into the line. She was looking at the ground until it was her turn. She took the quill and signed, flinching. Sirius saw a drop of blood rolling down her limp fingers from the words carved into her hand: ‘Rebecca Lestrange.’
Hardly daring to look, Sirius turned his head slightly towards James. He was very pale, looking very frightened, staring straight ahead. He seemed afraid to look at Sirius. His knuckles were white, his hand clenched tightly around his wand, his breathing fast and shallow. Unable to catch his eye, Sirius leaned slightly towards him, nudging his shoulder. James met his gaze, his eyes wide, scared, and uncertain. His eyes flicked fearfully towards the entrance from which they came, calculating escape.
“My dear cousin,” came Bellatrix’s cold, smooth voice from the center of the circle. “I am dismayed that you have lacked the courage to be among the first to sign. Isn’t that the quality of your little House?”
There were a few sniggers around the room.
Bellatrix was staring directly at him, the shadows casting the hollows of her cheeks in such sharp relief that she looked as though she was wearing a skull mask herself. The torchlight reflected off of her eyes seemed to make them flicker red.
“Come, Sirius,” she hissed.
“Sirius, no,” James finally spoke, his voice hardly louder than a whisper, fearful and imploring.
Automatically, as though moving on his own, Sirius stood and began walking towards the pedestal. He looked over his shoulder. James was staring at him, a look of utter betrayal on his face. Ever so slightly, James shook his head pleadingly.
Sirius turned back to the scroll before him. At least twenty names, glistening with the blood of twenty writers, lined the parchment. Bellatrix handed him the black quill.
“Heir of the House of Black,” she muttered. “Cleanse your name of disgrace by the blood of your hand.”
The quill hovered over the parchment. Sirius looked again at James. Sirius’s expression hardened, knowing what he was about to do. His eyes flicked meaningfully from James to the exit and back again. James blinked, confused.
“I do this for my family,” Sirius said loudly. “For my father… my mother… and my brother.”
Realization dawned on James’s face.
In a flash, Sirius dropped the quill and whipped out his own wand.
“INCENDIO!” The scroll erupted into flames. Bellatrix let out a scream of rage, trying desperately to extinguish it with her own robes. The blood of the names smeared onto her cloak.
As one, as though expecting it, the line of cloaked sentinels whipped out their wands.
“PROTEGO!” James shouted, just in time: the Shield landed directly in front of Sirius as a dozen spells crashed into it. The dome wavered and collapsed, but effectively deflected the spells, sending them bouncing off of the walls of the chamber.
Sirius dove over the chairs and sprinted towards the doors, firing Stinging Hexes and Ear-Shriveling Jinxes as fast as he could at the rows of cloaked figures. Shouts of pain confirmed that they had landed.
He exploded through the doors. James was sprinting next to him. Loud shouts echoed from the chamber down the hallway, of which Bellatrix’s was the loudest. “STOP HIM!”
They reached the stairwell and tore up as fast as they could. Spells began to ricochet off of the walls of the stairwell, bouncing off of the steps next to his feet.
“Protego!” he shouted over his shoulder, at the same time as James. They heard a collection of shouts, as though a crowd of people had been knocked backwards.
At last, they reached the top. Sirius leapt out from behind the suit of armor, then shot fur-growing hexes down the stairwell over James’s head as James darted out.
“GO!” James shouted.
Together, they sprinted out down the hallway, tearing around corners. They had no idea where they were going. Behind them, they heard the shouts of a dozen voices down the passage. Miraculously, they rounded a corner and saw a familiar stairwell They sprinted up it two steps at a time, burst onto the first floor and ran flat-out down the deserted hallway.
“This way!” James called, waving him over to a tapestry that concealed stairs to the second floor. Sirius ducked behind it, running at full speed up the stairs. They knocked a full suit of armor to the ground on the other end; its clatters followed them as they ran down the hall.
“What in the WORLD is going on!” Professor McGonagall emerged at the end of the hallway, wearing a nightdress and a hair cap, looking very irritable.
“PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL!” they both shouted in relief, sprinting to her.
Professor McGonagall’s irritation changed to alarm as she looked at their terrified faces.
“What’s happened?” she said sharply. “Is it Remus?”
“No!” James shouted breathlessly. “Dark wizards! In the dungeons! You have to help!”
Professor McGonagall looked bewildered. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“Please, Professor, there’s no time!” Sirius shouted. “They’re after us!”
Professor McGonagall frowned at them, looking down the dark, deserted hallway.
“I assure you, Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, that Hogwarts is perfectly safe from Dark witches and wizards. It appears that someone has Confunded you, perhaps as a Halloween prank…”
“We’re not!” James shouted. “They’re having some kind of ritual, a bunch of students are signing up! They call themselves Death Eaters!”
At this last word Professor McGonagall’s demeanor transformed. “What did you say they call themselves?”
“Death Eaters! They worship some person… some person called Lord Voldemort!”
“Potter, Black, come with me.” Professor McGonagall spun on her heel and walked very fast, throwing open the door to her office. On the far wall, a door was hanging open, and beyond, Sirius glimpsed what was unmistakably her living quarters. Her bed had a disheveled tartan quilt thrown halfway off the bed, the only sign of untidiness in her otherwise spartan flat. She strode to the office fireplace and threw some powder in. Immediately, a roaring green fire erupted in the hearth.
“All teachers report to the staff office immediately!” she yelled into the fireplace.
“Come now,” she said sharply to Sirius and James. “Have you ever travelled by Floo Powder before?” They both nodded dumbly. “Don’t go to the staff room. Go to Professor Vector’s office and we will walk from there. I don’t need you trampled by teachers in the staff room fireplace.”
James staggered forward and threw the powder into the fireplace. “Professor Vector’s office!” he shouted. He stepped in and disappeared.
“You next, Black.”
Sirius followed suit, shouting “Professor Vector’s office!” and stepping into the fireplace. He had a sensation of spinning very fast, and a moment later he crashed onto the hearth of Professor Vector’s office next to James. He climbed to his feet, dusting ashes from his robes, and when he stood up his mouth dropped open. Before them, next to Professor Vector’s desk, stood Professor Dumbledore.
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Mr. James Potter and Mr. Sirius Black! What a delightful surprise. I must say I was rather expecting Professor McGonagall.”
A moment later, Professor McGonagall appeared in the hearth, spinning rapidly, then stepped smartly into the office.
“Oh, thank goodness, Albus, you’re here,” she said.
“I gathered from your message to staff that we may perhaps be in a rather urgent situation?” Dumbledore asked calmly.
“Indeed. Potter and Black claim that they have witnessed dark wizards, here at Hogwarts, in the dungeons. I thought it was nonsense, of course. But Potter claims that they call themselves Death Eaters, and I was not aware that more than perhaps six people had even heard the term.”
“Mr. Black,” Dumbledore said evenly, watching him closely. “Can you confirm that there are Death Eaters in the Hogwarts dungeons this very moment?”
“Yes sir, if they haven’t gotten away, sir,” Sirius said.
Dumbledore turned to James. “And you, Mr. Potter, you saw this as well?”
“Yes sir,” James stammered.
Dumbledore turned back to Professor McGonagall. “You were right to alert the staff. Please assign them to work as a group to patrol the dungeons. Assuring the students’ safety is our top concern. Mr. Potter, how many were there?”
“Around twelve. And maybe twenty students.”
“I will send an urgent message to the Ministry requesting the presence of Aurors, just in case. I will alert Boris, he will need to alert his Ministry department of this development. I trust you may handle it from here?” Dumbledore said to Professor McGonagall.
“Of course, Albus,” Professor McGonagall replied, and with a look at Sirius and James she swept from the room.
Dumbledore turned to them.
“James, Sirius, please have a seat,” he said gravely. “I shall return in a few minutes.”
Dumbledore waved his wand and disappeared with a pop.
Sirius was still breathing hard from their sprint from the dungeons to the second floor. James’s face was shining with a sheen of sweat. Sirius sat in a small chair in front of Professor Vector’s desk. For some reason, he felt too ashamed to speak to James.
A few minutes ticked by, and Dumbledore reappeared with a pop.
“The Ministry has been alerted. I am told that we will have the support of a few Aurors as soon as possible. I’m afraid this is the latest in a series of concerning events. I’m pleased that Eugenia, at least, takes these concerns seriously.”
Sirius supposed Dumbledore must be talking about Eugenia Jenkins, the Minister for Magic. He watched in awe as Dumbledore took his seat behind Professor Vector’s desk, but when Dumbledore looked at them both, Sirius looked down at his hands.
His heart suddenly began pounding very hard as the reality of the situation sunk in. Telling Professor Dumbledore about what happened in the dungeons would mean telling him about Bellatrix’s letter, and him sneaking through the castle after hours, and how he himself nearly signed the scroll…
When Sirius looked back at Dumbledore, he was met a piercing stare.
“I must, ask, Mr. Black: how did you come to find this group of Death Eaters in the dungeons?” he asked, bringing his fingertips together.
Sirius felt a plunging sensation in the pit of his stomach. For several moments, he couldn’t bring himself to answer.
Dumbledore waited a long time, until Sirius finally spoke.
“I went because I was invited. I have a cousin – Bellatrix – she invited me. James came to try to stop me.”
“I am familiar with Bellatrix,” Dumbledore said, with a trace of coldness in his voice. “You are close with her, then?”
“No sir,” Sirius replied. His hands were shaking. He stuffed them into his pockets.
“And yet she invited you. Had you ever heard of Death Eaters before?”
“No sir, I hadn’t.”
“I must say,” Dumbledore continued lightly, “I find it rather strange that your cousin, with whom you are not close, would invite you, a first year, to a meeting of a secret group, of which you are not a member – or are you? Forgive the ignorance of an aging man, I want to make sure I understand all of the details.”
“I’m not a member, sir. I had never even heard of Death Eaters before,” Sirius replied, heart pounding.
“It was a recruitment, sir,” James interjected quietly. “For someone who goes by the name of – what was it, Sirius?”
“Lord Voldemort,” Sirius replied, and Dumbledore made a sudden movement. When he looked at him, however, he was still sitting calmly, his light blue eyes attentively fixed on James.
“That’s right. Lord Voldemort,” James confirmed. “But we’re not supposed to say his name.”
“And you were invited, Sirius?” Dumbledore asked cordially. “As a possible recruit?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you chose to attend?”
“Yes, sir.” Sirius’s palms began to sweat.
“May I ask, then, how you came to be sitting in front of me in this office, sharing these details with me?”
“I ran away, sir.”
“You were frightened, perhaps.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Perhaps the power of the dark arts appealed to you,” Dumbledore continued, a trace of coldness lining his otherwise light tone. “But seeing it firsthand caused you to get cold feet?”
“No sir,” Sirius said defensively. “I didn’t want to go. I didn’t go because I – I liked the dark arts or anything!”
Dumbledore met his eyes with a piercing stare. Several moments passed.
“Mr. Black, may I ask that you please empty your pockets?”
Sirius’s heart stopped. Slowly, he took out his wand, a bag of gold, and a chocolate frog wrapper and set them on his desk.
“The inner vest pocket as well, please, Mr. Black.”
Hands shaking, Sirius withdrew “One Hundred and Fifty Basic Dueling Spells” and placed it next to the objects.
Dumbledore crisply grabbed the book and flipped it open. Sirius’s heart was pounding; the room seemed to be spinning.
Dumbledore thumbed through the pages, then turned to the beginning of the book. He closed the book gently and returned his gaze to Sirius. He didn’t say anything, but merely waited, watching Sirius closely.
“It was an accident,” Sirius said, his voice choking. “We went to the library to look up books on dueling.”
“How long ago was that, Sirius?” Dumbledore asked softly.
Sirius opened his mouth and then closed it again. It must have been at least a month ago.
“I’m sorry,” he choked. It was all he could think to say. Tears of shame were filling his eyes.
“I would like you to tell me, Sirius, exactly how you came to be in the presence of a dozen Death Eaters this evening,” Dumbledore said, still speaking in a soft, cold voice.
“It was Bellatrix,” Sirius said, tears now sliding down his cheeks. “She told me I had to go. She said that if I didn’t – she would hurt James. And Remus, and Peter.”
“I see,” Dumbledore said evenly. “And how did she claim she would be able to harm these students, when they are safe at Hogwarts?”
“She sent Rabastan Lestrange and his friends. They said they would be watching. She said that they – they could make it look like an accident.” Sirius shuddered.
“Make what look like an accident? Killing them, I presume?” Dumbledore said this all very calmly, as though speaking about the weather.
“Killing them. Or – or torturing them.” Sirius was shaking very badly now. “She said that the Cruciatus Curse doesn’t leave a mark. That if you do it long enough, a person goes – goes insane, and they can’t tell you what happened. Or – or they would be Imperiused, and drown themselves in the lake, or throw themselves out a window…”
Dumbledore surveyed Sirius quietly. There was a ringing silence, broken only by the sound of his chair rattling against the floor as Sirius trembled violently in his seat. He still couldn’t bring himself to look at James.
“So, you have enlisted, then? Out of fear for the safety of your friends?” Dumbledore said finally.
“I d-didn’t.” Sirius stammered.
“He didn’t, Professor,” James interjected. “I was there, I saw him.”
Dumbledore frowned. “Tell me what happened, Sirius.”
“T-they wanted me to sign something. E-everyone else signed it, except me and James. B-Bellatrix called me up in front of everyone. And I c-couldn’t do it.”
“You didn’t sign it?”
“He lit it on fire, Professor,” James said loudly. “Right in front of everyone.”
Dumbledore’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He leaned back in his chair, bringing his fingertips to his chin as he watched Sirius thoughtfully.
“Is this true, Sirius?”
“Yes, sir.”
“May I ask why?”
Sirius swallowed and took a deep, steadying breath. “I’m not sure. I think it’s because… well… I can’t do whatever she says just because I’m scared of her. If I do, I don’t think she’ll ever stop. Even if I signed… she wanted James to sign too. And I knew he wouldn’t. And after all that, she was going to go after him anyway…”
He finally brought himself to look at James, who was sitting perfectly still, staring at him intensely, as though seeing him for the first time.
“I’m sorry, James,” Sirius croaked. “I didn’t mean for any of that to happen.”
James surveyed him seriously, and then nodded.
There was a brief pause before Dumbledore spoke again. “If I might ask, how on earth did you manage to leave after such an act?”
“With – with great difficulty, sir,” Sirius managed.
“They were chasing us. All the way upstairs,” James said. “If Professor McGonagall didn’t find us…”
Dumbledore sighed heavily.
“Thank you for telling me all of this,” Dumbledore said gravely. “I wish, Sirius, that you had confided in me sooner. Threats against Hogwarts students are best handled by me and your capable teachers, not underage wizards in their first year of schooling.”
“Yes, sir,” Sirius replied meekly.
“I’m afraid that once again, I must request that both of you keep the events of tonight confidential. I do not wish to advertise to our students that Lord Voldemort is actively recruiting them, you understand.”
James and Sirius nodded.
“I ask only one more thing of you before I will have you escorted back to your Common Room.” Dumbledore reached inside Professor Vector’s desk and withdrew a roll of parchment. “Please write down the names of everyone you can remember who were there tonight. Especially the students. This is very important. If you’ll excuse me, I would like to go and check on my faculty.”
“Yes, sir,” they said. He left them.
James grabbed the quill. “Snape was there,” he said, writing on the parchment. “And his friends – what were their names?”
“Avery and Mulciber,” Sirius replied.
“And the first guy – Crabbe, right?”
“Yeah. And don’t forget Rabastan Lestrange, and Goyle,” Sirius added.
The quill scratched against the parchment. “And Bellatrix, of course, I’ll put her even though she’s not a student… anyone else? I’m trying to remember…”
With a pang, he remembered Rebecca Lestrange, and the blood rolling down her fingers. She hadn’t wanted to be there, just like he hadn’t.
“No, that’s everyone I can remember,” Sirius said.
When they were finally escorted back to their Common Room by Professor Slughorn, they didn’t speak another word. They climbed heavily up the stairs, collapsed onto their beds, and fell asleep.
Neverenoughmarauders on Chapter 1 Tue 30 Apr 2024 09:49AM UTC
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MT_Goodwin on Chapter 6 Mon 12 Aug 2024 01:28PM UTC
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