The Potter and the Kettle Black

Chapter 3

Harry woke up bright and early the following morning, feeling well rested and somehow more comfortable than he was used to being during the summer holidays. It took him only moments to remember the strange events of the previous 36 hours, and realize that he was in a cozy room at The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, not in Little Whinging with the Dursleys. He rose, determined to follow through on his resolution of the previous night while his courage was high. He scrounged around in his trunk for a bit of parchment, and sharpened and inked a quill, thinking of what he could say that wouldn't sound completely idiotic.

Dear Professor Lupin,

I don't know if you know me, but Hagrid told me that you were a good friend of my father's at school. I was raised by my Muggle aunt and uncle, and I know hardly anything about my parents - only that my father was an excellent Quidditch player, and that they were Headboy and Headgirl at Hogwarts. I have so many questions about what they were like, as people, and I would really like to get to know them through someone who knew them closely. I was hoping you would be able to answer some of my questions, if it isn't too much of a bother. Please let me know if I can meet you or owl you over the summer. In any case, I look forward to meeting you in September, at Hogwarts.

Harry Potter

He looked over the letter, reasonably satisfied. He felt awkward writing to a complete stranger, especially one who would be his new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in just a few months, and he couldn't help thinking of Quirrel, who had carried Voldemort around in the back of his head, and Lockhart, who had been nearly as dangerous in his own way, with his memory charms. But surely Lupin was nothing like that; he was a friend of Harry's father's, after all. Not that that was necessarily a comforting line of thought; Harry thought about that other friend of his father's, the fugitive in canine shape whom Harry was harboring in the woodshed. Harry shook off these thoughts, and sealed the letter. The sooner he could resolve this matter the sooner he would know what to make of Sirius Black.

Sending Hedwig off with the letter, he went downstairs and had breakfast. Rosmerta, who looked busier than she had been the previous day, told him that she'd fed the dog already, and that Harry could go let him out for the day if he wanted to. Harry ate quickly, and asked Rosmerta to pack him a large picnic lunch for later. He was feeling guilty for letting his godfather subsist food intended for a dog, and couldn't help thinking that he needed to do his bit to see that the emaciated man filled out a little.

Snuffles was delighted to be let out of the shed, and even happier, it seemed, to see that Harry quite obviously intended to spend the day with him. They walked through Hogsmeade together, and this time Harry finally took in the wonders of all the shops he'd ignored the day before. Snuffles waved his tail like a banner and played the part of the lovable pet to perfection, but Harry still noticed that a number of people shrunk away from the large creature, and wondered if it was his own celebrity that was eliciting that reaction, until he remembered what Madam Rosmerta had said the previous night, about scaring the customers at the inn. He resolved to ask Ron what a grim was when he wrote him next.

Snuffles, it seemed, was determined to give Harry a tour of all the delights of Hogsmeade, and led him slightly off the beaten track to Zonko's, from where Harry emerged with his money bag quite a bit lighter, with visions of all sorts of explosions in potions which would drive Snape into apoplectic fits. He passed by Gladrags more quickly, though Harry thought he caught Snuffles glancing wistfully at the window display, and felt another of those now familiar pangs of guilt when he thought about the tattered state of the robes Black had been wearing.

By this time Harry was beginning to get a bit peckish for lunch, and he had been planning to try to find a relatively isolated spot somewhere a little outside the village. Snuffles, it seemed, had other plans, and all but dragged Harry into Honeydukes. Harry rapidly stopped putting on any sort of resistance once he saw the array of sweets, so much more impressive than what he had seen the witch carry on her trolley on the Hogwarts Express. Harry could have browsed all day, but Snuffles wasn't done dragging him, and the moment the shopkeeper was occupied with another group of customers, he pointedly nudged Harry down an inconspicuous set of stairs at the back corner of the shop, into a large cellar. He led the way towards a dark corner, which Harry saw wasn't a corner at all, but the beginning of a passageway. His own curiosity reasserting itself, he lit his wand and followed Snuffles through the tunnel for a bit, until it widened into a small clearing. Snuffles paused, looked around, and transformed back into Sirius Black.

"What is this place? Where's this tunnel going?"

"To Hogwarts, of course. Haven't you found any of the secret passages?" Black asked, sounding a little disappointed.

Harry found himself answering a little defensively, "Well, I did find the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets."

Black's eyes widened.

"Merlin! How did you find that? We looked for years!"

"Well, you couldn't have opened it anyway, unless you're a parselmouth."

Black started visibly.

"You're a parselmouth?"

Harry flushed.

"Look, I'm not proud of it, all right? But Ron's sister Ginny was stuck in there. I had to open it, to save her."

Black laughed.

"Rescuing damsels in distress, already? Aren't you a bit young for that?"

"It's not like that!" Harry protested, "She's Ron's little sister!"

"So you keep saying. Well, I suppose you have a few years to figure these things out."

"Did you drag me down here just to give me a hard time?"

"Not exactly. I just thought... I know you have some doubts about me. I just thought we should get to know each other a little better. You should know what kind of a fugitive you're harboring."

"And you thought the best way to do this was to drag me to a dark isolated spot?" Harry wisecracked, feeling unusually daring, "You're lucky I'm not quite sensible, or I'd think you really were a mass-murderer."

"It's not luck, Harry, it's genetics. You really are your father's son. Although what Lily would make of such behavior I'm not sure. She'll be turning in her grave."

He caught himself, as though only just understanding what he was referring to, and stared at the floor, a look of utter sadness on his face. Harry felt deeply uncomfortable watching him, as though he were intruding on what ought to be a private mourning.

"Look," he said, awkwardly, "I'm sure they wouldn't blame you."

"Perhaps not, but that doesn't mean it's not my fault. Look, Harry, it wasn't really my plan to pull you into this. Your parents, they wanted me to take care of you in their place, but I know I lost that right a long time ago, and now look at you, taking care of me. All I want to do is to protect you from Peter Pettigrew."

"But I don't understand. How were you blamed for what he did? Didn't anyone else know he could turn into a rat? Why didn't you say anything at your trial?"

Black let out a bark-like laugh. "I never had a trial, Harry."

"What? Don't wizards have courts?"

"Yes, we do, but apparently the Ministry didn't think the procedures count for much in an open and shut case like mine. Dumbledore could have pushed for a trial, I suppose, but he mustn't have thought I deserved one either."

"Didn't you have any other friends?"

"Those were difficult times, Harry. I don't think you understand quite what it was like."

"Why do grownups always say things like that? Look, I've met Voldemort twice in the last two years; I think I might have some idea what it's like. Try me, why don't you?"

Black smiled.

"I never thought anyone would accuse me of being a grownup. All right, I'll try. You've probably been through more than most people ever did in the war, Harry, so you probably do have some idea what it was like, but it was different. It wasn't just one enemy lurking somewhere in the background. There was an actual war going on for most of my life; there were people dying everyday. There were some of us doing everything we could to fight the Death-Eaters, and even those of us fighting under Dumbledore knew that there was a traitor in our midst. We had all been friends, house-mates, comrades. There were no obvious suspects. We had no choice but to turn on our friends. I suspected the wrong friend. Remus probably suspected me. We both had good reasons; it turns out that we were both wrong. He wasn't going to defend me when his suspicions were proven right, even if anyone had listened to him."

"Do you mean Remus Lupin?"

"Yes. Do you know him at least, then?"

"No. That is, I've never met him. But I just wrote him a letter this morning. Hagrid told me about him yesterday. He's coming to Hogwarts to teach us Defense this year."

"What? They're letting Remus teach?"

"Why shouldn't they?"

"No, it's just... we were some of the worst troublemakers this school has seen."

Harry had an impression that Black was withholding something, but he didn't press on that point, eager to learn more about his father.

"Really? But wasn't my dad headboy?"

Black snorted.

"He was, and I never let him live it down. Still can't imagine what Dumbledore was thinking, unless it was to get him together with Lily. She never gave him the time of day before seventh year, when they were heads together. He wasn't Prefect, though, before that. That was Remus; he was the good boy, but he never managed to keep us out of any real trouble."

"He can't be any worse than the last two professors we've had."

"Actually, I'm quite sure Remus will be rather good. He's clever, that one, he knows his Defense, and he's got a wicked sense of humor hidden in there somewhere. You'll like him."

"If you like him so much why'd you suspect him, then? Why did he suspect you?"

"Harry, all my family was on the wrong side of this war. Nasty bunch of pureblood fanatics, they were. I left all that behind; ran away to your Dad's place when I was sixteen, but a lot of people didn't think I belonged in Dumbledore's order. Remus, he was our friend, but in times like those, when you knew someone was a traitor, it brought out everyone's worst qualities in terms of suspecting people. I don't know if he really did suspect me; maybe he didn't until afterwards, when it all seemed to fit together. As for me, I had my reasons too, and they weren't at all good ones. I haven't always been very good at keeping Remus's secrets, but he's kept mine, and I don't want to let him down again."

"D'you think he'll write me back, then?"

"What did you write him?"

"I just asked him if he'd want to tell me anything about my parents, since I don't know much about them."

"And you wanted to check up on me, then, but you didn't know how to ask."

Harry flushed, and mumbled, "Something like that."

"No, it was a good idea. You don't know anything about me, or your father. You should have someone you can talk to whom you trust a little more than an escaped prisoner who's supposed to be out to get you."

"I know at least that's not true. You've had plenty of chances to get at me, and you haven't done anything."

"You never know. I could be biding my time."

"Are you trying to get me to mistrust you? That's not a very good idea, since I'm the one getting you food and shelter."

"Touché, Harry, but I could survive on rats and other creatures in the forest. Look, I've already failed in my responsibility towards you; I know I'll manage to land back in Azkaban again. I just want to take Peter out before that happens, so that I know you're safe."

"Are you the only one out there who knows that Pettigrew can turn into a rat? Why can't we just report this to the Ministry?"

"Peter, James and I weren't registered animagi, Harry. The Ministry won't believe it. The only other person who knows about us is Remus, and he thinks Peter's been dead for twelve years."

"Professor Lupin knows that you can turn into a dog? He hasn't told the Ministry about you. Wouldn't he believe you, if you showed him the picture?"

"He might, if he didn't kill me first, for letting your parents down."

"Well, I won't let you talk to him straightaway."

"And how're you planning to bring up the subject that you're harboring a canine felon in the woodshed to a person you've never met, Harry?"

"I've got to do something, haven't I?"

"Actually, I'm telling you that you don't, Harry. I can see you're used to taking care of yourself but this is my responsibility. It's my fault he's out there, sleeping in your dormitory and biding his time, and I'll take care of him. I don't want to implicate you in any of this. You're not getting into trouble for my sake."

"If it's my parents he betrayed then I have some say in this too! I don't even know if you're telling the truth - all I know is that you're after my best friend's pet! Don't you think I deserve to know if Scabbers really did have anything to do with my parents' death?"

"I can't give you any proof until I get to Pettigrew, Harry."

"But how are you planning to get to him without my help? You can't just walk into Gryffindor tower and take Ron's pet. And if Professor Lupin knows all about you, don't you think he'll notice you if you do go with Hagrid?"

"I don't deny that Remus is something of an unexpected complication."

"He's been helping you all these years."

"Harry, he hates me. He has every reason to believe I led your parents to their deaths."

"I don't think it works like that. I have every reason to believe you led my parents to their deaths."

"Which brings us to something of a crucial point. What do you think of me?"

Harry blushed, glad that Black couldn't see him in the darkness.

"Well, I'm not sure, but I'm giving you a chance, aren't I?"

"Look, I don't blame you for wanting to talk to Remus, and wanting to check up on me. And I can't deny that he's the only person out there who could possibly believe that what I'm saying is true. But Remus... Harry, he's a very private person. I don't know if he'll want to talk about things like that. And he's very sharp, is Remus. If you ask him questions like that he'll know I've talked to you, Harry." Black shrugged, suddenly, "Look, there's a reason I didn't want to pull you into this. If Remus knows, or even suspects that I'm after you... He'll come after me, Harry. It's what I would do in his place. I can't stay with you any longer, Harry."

"Wait, where are you going?" yelled Harry. But it was too late. Black had transformed into Padfoot, and was fleeing down the tunnel. Harry ran after him, as quickly as he could, but it was no good. By the time he came out of the cellar, and back into Honeydukes, there was no sign of the large dog.