The Potter and the Kettle Black

Chapter 2

It was just after dawn, and Hogsmeade was still slumbering when the Knight Bus appeared with a bang a little ways outside The Three Broomsticks. The bus disappeared with another violent jolt, and had any of the nearby residents been looking out of their windows at that hour they would have been treated to the sight of a dark-haired boy dragging a Hogwarts trunk and pointing his wand at a large black dog.

It was just as well that none of the Hogsmeade locals were looking or listening, or they might have found it rather odd that the savior of the wizarding world was talking to a dog as though he expected him to understand what he was saying. And had they actually understood the implications of the conversation they would have been all the more troubled.

"A wizard and a dozen Muggles with one spell! And then you just stood there and laughed?"

The dog whined plaintively, trying to come closer to Harry, who thrust his wand out again.

"No, look, I did what you said, all right? I'm not at the Weasleys, so you don't have anything to worry about. And, listen, I won't turn you in or anything, but you know I can't just believe you like that, not after what they're saying. I have to know if you're telling the truth first."

The dog whimpered, but didn't come any closer.

"Now, don't do anything foolish, all right? If Scabbers really is what you say, we'll figure something out, but don't go after Ron or anything."

Harry wasn't really sure why he said that. He certainly wouldn't normally consider giving advice to grown men, but it seemed a little different when it was a dog standing in front of him, and besides, something told him that even if Black was innocent, he was most certainly capable of being extremely reckless. The low throaty growl he heard in response to his words was sufficient corroboration.

"You'll be around town, right? Look, I just need to figure out what's really going on here. I'm not saying I don't believe you, but after what's happened to me before I really need some proof, all right?"

The dog whimpered again, but backed off, seeming to understand what Harry was saying. Harry put his wand away and gave it a small wave before dragging his heavy trunk across the road into The Three Broomsticks. Already he was starting to feel a little guilty about not allowing Black to come with him. The man claimed to be his godfather, after all, and it was clear he hadn't eaten properly or even entered a warm room in a very long time now. And if he really was innocent, Harry couldn't imagine what it would be like to have spent twelve years in prison. But then, Harry had felt sorry for Tom Riddle last year, for being an orphan forced to go back to his Muggle orphanage, and by trusting him he had put Ginny's life in jeopardy. After what he had read in the Daily Prophet, he really didn't know what to think. It didn't seem possible that the Ministry of Magic would make such an enormous mistake as to put the wrong person in prison. If Black really was innocent, hadn't he said so at his trial?

Harry dragged his trunk over the inn's threshold, stubbing his toe.

"Ouch!"

A woman looked up from the bar counter, where she was cleaning glasses. As she came closer, Harry realized that she wasn't as young as she had seemed, but in her form fitting robes and sparkling high heeled sandals, she was remarkably attractive. This must be the Rosie whom Black had mentioned. As she caught a glimpse of his face, her eyes widened in an expression that Harry had come to expect since he had first entered the wizarding world two years before.

"By Merlin, if it isn't Harry Potter! We weren't expecting to see you in here until later this year. Welcome to The Three Broomsticks, Mr. Potter. I'm Madam Rosemerta."

"Erm, thanks," Harry smiled, a bit uncomfortably. He had never gotten used to being the center of attention.

"Will you be staying with us, Mr. Potter? You can leave your trunk; I'll have it sent up to your room. What brings you to Hogsmeade?"

"I... erm, I needed to talk to some of the teachers up at Hogwarts. I don't think they allow students in the castle during summer."

Harry was improvising rapidly, and he didn't think his explanation was terribly convincing, but Madam Rosemerta nodded and seemed perfectly satisfied.

"Let's get you settled in, then, dear. You're looking rather tired. How did you come all this way?"

"The Knight Bus."

"Oh dear, you can't have gotten a wink of sleep all night! I'll make sure you're nice and comfortable here, and then you can see about getting up to the school after you've rested. Would you like a spot of breakfast first?"

"Thanks," said Harry gratefully, realizing just how hungry he was. He found himself a table while Madam Rosemerta magicked away his trunk and returned with a plate overflowing with a hearty Scottish breakfast. Harry dug into his eggs and bacon and ate his roasted tomato and black pudding with relish. As Rosemerta returned to refill his pumpkin juice, Harry caught a glimpse of Black, curled up in dog form in the little village green next door. He felt another pang of guilt as he looked at the substantial meal he was polishing off when it was perfectly obvious that this man, his godfather, was practically starving.

"Erm, Madam Rosemerta, d'you see that dog out there, on the green? Is it possible to get him some breakfast, too? He's really hungry."

Rosemerta looked out at the large, emaciated creature, and turned back to Harry.

"I haven't seen him around. Is he yours?"

She sounded slightly skeptical, and Harry knew she must know that dogs weren't allowed up at Hogwarts.

"Not exactly. He just sort of found me when the bus dropped me off. He's really friendly, he wanted to come with me, but I didn't know how you felt about dogs."

"Well, we can't have strays running around the inn, that's for sure, but if we have some scraps, I'll take them outside for him."

"Erm, actually, can you get him a full breakfast, just like this?" Harry asked. "I'll pay for it," he added quickly, as Madam Rosemerta gave him another funny look. Her face softened.

"You're very like your mother, has anyone ever told you that?"

Harry, who had heard far more about his startling resemblance to his father, and their mutual prowess at Quidditch, shook his head.

She smiled at him, and went on back to bring out another plate of breakfast, which she took outside to the large black dog. Harry watched through the window as Black yelped in surprise, and then slobbered over Rosemerta's hand, making her laugh coquettishly.

"He's quite a character, that dog of yours," she said, smiling, as she came back inside.

"That he is," Harry nodded, as he looked out of the window, watching the dog devour his breakfast as though it was his first hot meal in years. Which, of course, it probably was.

When Harry woke up from his nap, well rested, it was late in the afternoon, and he realized that he'd slept for nearly eight hours. He sat up in bed, bleary eyed, and reached for his glasses. Hedwig gave a soft hoot, and came up to him and nipped his ear gently.

"Good girl. How did you know I was here?" he asked, not expecting a reply, as he petted her.

"She's a clever bird, that one. Arrived in the room before your trunk was sent up, even."

Startled, Harry looked around, and saw that it had been the mirror on the dresser that was speaking.

"Slept long enough, haven't you? Better go downstairs. Rosemerta will be wondering where you've got to."

Harry examined the room properly for the first time. It was warm, cheerful, and comfortable. His trunk had been conveniently placed for him, and he had a window looking out towards the Forbidden Forest. He would be far happier here than in his bedroom on Privet Drive, which still bore the marks of being Dudley's second bedroom. Still, he didn't want to sit up here in his room alone chatting with a mirror. He decided to take its advice and head downstairs.

There were more people in the bar at this time, chatting noisily at their tables. Harry went up to Madam Rosemerta, who was tending the bar counter.

"There you are, dear. Did you have a good nap, then?"

"I did, thanks."

"Good. Were you thinking of heading up to Hogwarts now?" She looked outside, a slightly worried look on her face. "It's not too far, but the path runs right by the forest. I'm not so sure it's a good idea for you to go alone now. It might be late by the time you get back here."

Harry's resentment at Rosemerta's treating him like a child was quickly overcome by his relief that he would not have to come up with some excuse for heading to the school immediately.

"That's all right. I'll just go tomorrow morning."

Rosemerta brightened.

"Yes, that's perfect. Shall I get you something to drink, then?"

"Erm, no, thanks. I think I'll go for a bit of a walk. Just 'round the village; I won't go far," he added quickly, seeing Rosemerta's face.

She nodded sympathetically, "Yes, I suppose you need the fresh air. And I think you'll enjoy some of our Hogsmeade shops, too. Just keep your eyes open. You can't be too careful with someone like Black on the loose."

Harry nodded as he made his way towards the door, his guilt at neglecting Black surging again. He had reacted to Stan Shunpike's exaggerated description of Black's ruthlessness and lunacy with instinctive panic, yet in its barebones, was not the story consistent with what Black himself had told him earlier on Wisteria Walk? Hearing the same fear again in Rosemerta's voice, Harry realized that while their fear was not unreasonable, he, Harry, knew something rather crucial that they didn't. Whether or not Black was telling the truth, he had already managed to corner Harry in a dark Muggle street at night. Had he wished him any harm, he could have done so already.

Harry wandered through Hogsmeade absently. At any other time, he would have been fascinated by the shop fronts, and emptied all the gold in his pockets at Zonko's and Honeydukes. But today there was far too much on his mind, and Black's face leering from every blank wall in Hogsmeade only reminded him that anyone who actually looked at Black would just see a bedraggled emaciated dog that would never do them any harm.

Suddenly he realized that if any of what he was thinking was true, he really did have rather important business at Hogwarts. However, he wasn't at all sure right now how he should go about it. Explaining Black's side of the story would mean admitting that he had met the man, which would essentially blow his cover. In case Harry wasn't believed, and Harry knew well enough from the previous summer that the word of an underage wizard like him did not count as much as it should have, Black's cover would be blown and he would have no way of hiding from the authorities. No, if there was any way for him to help Black, he would have to find out a lot more than he knew at the moment. He couldn't risk exposing him, especially since he had promised not to. If only he knew someone else who would at least hear this story out without laughing it off as completely incredible. If there was no one out there who knew that Peter Pettigrew could turn into a rat, was Black really telling the truth? If Black was such good friends with his parents, wouldn't he have had some other friends or family who would have known about this as well?

Harry made his way back towards The Three Broomsticks, starting to get hungry again after his walk. As he approached the village green, he saw Padfoot, still sitting out there, looking at him with forlorn eyes. Harry went up to him, making sure he remained within full view of the inn. The large dog watched him with wary eyes as Harry went up.

Feeling a bit silly, Harry scratched him between the ears lightly. He knew dogs liked that sort of thing, but he didn't know how an animagus would react. Padfoot just whimpered and stretched, inviting him to do it again.

"I'm sorry about this," Harry told him, quietly, "I'm trying to figure some way out. In the meantime, just please stay out of trouble, won't you?"

Padfoot snorted, in indignation, Harry thought.

"Look, I'll head back to the inn in a bit, and I'll make sure you get some food. I can't take you with me; everyone would be suspicious. They know my aunt and uncle would never let me get a dog. And dogs aren't even allowed at Hogwarts; you know that."

Padfoot whined, but he nodded. Harry patted him again. He was about to head back into the inn, when he heard a familiar voice booming at him.

"Harry! What're yeh doin' here?"

"Hagrid!"

Harry panicked momentarily on seeing his friend, the massive gamekeeper, but as his wits caught up with him he reflected that Hagrid, of all people, would hardly think it odd for him to be consorting with a strange animal.

"Blimey, Harry! Don't yer know that everyone's lookin' out fer yeh? Heard that Fudge himself was looking in Diagon Alley."

"Why are people looking for me?"

"Harry, after what happened with yer aunt yesterday the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad had to go over to yer house, didn't they? And when they didn't find yeh there, what d'yeh think would happen? Merlin, we all thought Sirius Black took you."

Padfoot growled softly at this, taking offense. Harry put a warning hand between his shoulder blades.

"That's a good dog yeh've got there; he's got the right idea. How'd yeh get up to Hogsmeade, anyhow? Why didn't yeh come straight to Hogwarts?"

"Erm, the Knight Bus dropped me off here. I was too tired to go up to Hogwarts right away, so I took a room at The Three Broomsticks. I just woke up about an hour ago, and Madam Rosemerta said she thought it was a bit late for me to go."

Hagrid nodded approvingly.

"She's right, Rosemerta is. Can't be too careful now, with that Black about. How he got out of Azkaban I'll never know," Hagrid shuddered, obviously remembering his own experience at the wizarding prison, before turning reprovingly towards Harry again, "But yeh could have sent an owl and saved us the worryin'."

Harry flushed. He had no idea so many people had been worried about him; that even the Minister for Magic had been looking out for him.

"Sorry, Hagrid."

"Well, yer safe; that's what's important," Hagrid said, gruffly, thumping Harry on the shoulder, "Now let's go send Dumbledore an owl."

"I'll get Hedwig," Harry said, but no sooner had he started back towards the inn that the owl landed on his shoulder, nipping him gently on the ear.

"Now that's a clever bird," said Hagrid, approvingly. He retrieved some parchment, a quill, and a tiny ink bottle from his numerous overflowing pockets, and wrote a quick note, which he attached to Hedwig's foot.

"Mind yeh get that straight to Professor Dumbledore now," he instructed the bird.

Hedwig hooted and flew off over the Forbidden Forest towards the castle.

"Hagrid, what are you doing here anyway?"

It could have been Harry's imagination, but he thought he saw Hagrid blush in the fading evening light.

"I was jes down for a quick pick-me-up. Blimey, Harry, I've been worried about you all day."

"Sorry," Harry said again.

"ts'all right, Harry. Is this yer dog?" he asked, looking at the animal properly now that he no longer needed to worry.

"Sort of. It's been following me around. It's really friendly. I don't know if I should take it up to my room, though. It's not like I can take it to Hogwarts."

"Well, they won't let yeh have a dog that size in the dorms, that's right enough. But if yeh want, I could keep him out by my shack. Fang's been wantin' someone to play with anyhow."

Harry wasn't sure how Black would feel about being a playmate for Hagrid's enormous boarhound, but he yelped enthusiastically, apparently pleased at the prospect of staying close to the castle.

"That's a good dog. Fang'll like yeh. Now yeh stay here an' take care of Harry, all right, an' I'll come get yeh when come September."

"Thanks, Hagrid."

"Yer welcome, Harry. Now let's get yeh some dinner inside."

They made towards the inn, but they were stopped at the entrance by Madam Rosemerta's exclamation.

"Hagrid, I'll thank you not to let the boy think I'll let that creature into my nice, clean inn!"

"He's a really good dog," started Harry, but Rosemerta interrupted him.

"He's polite enough, I'll give you that, but he'll scare the other customers. He looks just like the grim. He can stay in the shed out back, and I'll make sure he's properly fed, but I can't let you have him upstairs, dear."

"Thanks," Harry said, inwardly slightly relieved, even as he felt bad about his excessive caution. Still, he wasn't sure he'd feel all that comfortable sharing a small bedroom with an escaped convict on the run who may or may not have betrayed Harry's own parents.

Padfoot whined softly, but let Harry and Rosemerta lead him out to the shed, where they settled him with a large plate of bones. Harry felt bad Black wasn't getting a real dinner, but he knew he'd earn another strange look from Rosemerta for asking for cooked food for a dog twice in one day. At any rate, Black seemed to be chewing the juicy bones happily enough, so Harry just patted him on the head, and returned with Rosemerta.

He joined Hagrid at a large table, while Rosemerta fetched a tankard of mead for the large man.

"Ta, Rosemerta," Hagrid said.

"And what about you, dear? Will you have some of our butter beer with your dinner?"

"Thanks," said Harry, eager to try a new Hogsmeade treat.

As Rosemerta left them to tend to the rest of her customers, it occurred to Harry that

Hagrid might hold an answer to his earlier dilemma.

"Hagrid, you knew my parents, didn't you?" he started.

"'Course I did, Harry. A finer witch and wizard yeh'd never meet. Sharp as anything, both of them."

"D'you know if any of their friends are still around somewhere?"

Hagrid choked on his drink.

"Why'd yeh ask that, Harry?"

"I was just looking at those pictures you gave me the other day, and I was wondering, because some of them must still be alive, but I've never met any one who just knew them as friend, not a student or something like that. Someone who could tell me what they were really like. Didn't they have any friends?"

Hagrid had recovered somewhat as he spoke again.

"They had loads of friends, Harry. Very popular, they were, both of them. Now, some of them we lost in the war, like little Peter Pettigrew, bless his heart. Others, well," he said, as his expression turned dark, and Harry knew he was thinking of Sirius Black, "...they weren't all very loyal friends in the end. But there are still some of their friends out there if yeh want to talk to them. I got those pictures from some of them."

"Is there someone I can owl, or talk to? A really good friend of my Dad's?"

Hagrid's expression was still a bit dark, as he considered the question.

"Ye'd best talk to Remus Lupin," he said, finally. "Good friend of yer Dad's, he was. Professor Lupin, I should say. He'll be teaching yeh come September, too; Dumbledore's just fixed that. I'm sure he won't mind hearing from yeh. There's no one left who knew yer Dad as well as he did."

"Thanks, Hagrid," Harry said, enthusiastically. Finally, he had a lead, something to work with, and this was even better than he had expected. Lupin would be here in September; he would be teaching Harry at Hogwarts. Surely it wouldn't be so odd if Harry asked him a few questions about his own father. That way he could find out whether any of what Sirius Black had told him was true. And perhaps, just perhaps, he might be a person to whom Harry could confide about the giant black secret Harry was hiding in Madam Rosemerta's shed.