Harry Potter and the Fifth Year from Hell

Chapter 19 - A Sirius Conversation

"Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you... ...When you are older... I know you hate to hear this... when you are ready, you will know."

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, Ch. 17

* * *

"We're missing lunch now," Ron said. Harry and Hermione nodded.

They had already missed Care of Magical Creatures. After Professor Grubbly-Plank and Professor Weasley had fed and watered Buckbeak, the hippogriff had flown away. Harry would have liked to have spoken to him, but he was glad Buckbeak was safely gone - he was a fugitive from justice just as much as Sirius was. Then Professor Grubbly-Plank had rounded up her fifth-years and gone ahead with her lesson. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had taken refuge behind a familiar bush - the very one they'd ducked behind in second year when Ron had been spewing slugs.

Professor Grubbly-Plank had looked for them for a bit, and then thrown up her hands. They'd probably get a detention.

More time passed. After what seemed like hours, Hermione looked at the watch on her wrist.

"I'm missing Magical Languages," she said.

No one else was outside now. Most of the professors had come out of the cabin and gone back into the castle. Madam Hooch and Penelope Clearwater had run out of the door and disappeared in the direction of Hogsmeade. Harry calculated that only Hagrid, Remus, Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey were left in the cabin now.

At two o'clock, Professor McGonagall burst out of the door, and took off for the castle at a fast clip.

"Getting something from the hospital wing?" guessed Ron.

"Going to conduct her lesson, I'll bet," said Harry.

"I think that's a good sign," said Hermione. "She wouldn't leave if Hagrid was... serious."

"That's true," said Harry. After a couple of minutes, he spoke again. "We're missing Defence Against the Dark Arts now."

Finally, their patience was rewarded. Remus Lupin came out of the door of the cabin. He stopped and looked all around him, and then shook his head and strode toward the front gates. Harry, Ron, and Hermione rushed after him.

"Professor Lupin! Remus! Wait!"

Remus smiled at them as they came panting up to him - a tired smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Hello, Hermione. Ron. Harry."

"Tell us what happened," Hermione demanded. "How is Hagrid?"

"He's going to be okay, I think," said Remus. "He was attacked and wounded in Norway, trying to find a representative from the ogres for the Order of the Phoenix. They - fight with axes."

Hermione winced. Remus nodded.

"He was chopped up pretty badly. He managed to get hold of one of the axes and keep them off, but he couldn't walk by then. The ogres wouldn't let Fawkes get through to try to heal him. Finally, Fawkes went to Dumbledore for help."

"And he sent you and Si... Snuffles to the rescue?" asked Ron eagerly.

"Yes."

"But that was Saturday!" said Harry. "Three days ago."

"We got there as quickly as we could, Harry," Remus said. "We had to fly by broomstick, and Fawkes led us. We got to Hagrid all right, and fought the ogres back, but then we were surrounded. Hagrid was unconscious by then, and couldn't Apparate. We took turns holding the ogres back while the other one worked on Hagrid. Fawkes helped. He healed all the cuts, but we couldn't wake Hagrid up. If Fawkes hadn't gone to fetch Buckbeak, I suppose we'd still be there. We rode our brooms on both sides of Buckbeak and kept Hagrid from falling off. But when we got close to here, Sirius had to peel off, so I got on Buckbeak. That's all."

Ron whistled. Hermione's brows contracted.

"Why would Hagrid be going to the ogres, anyway?" she said. "Aren't they like trolls, violent and stupid? Honestly -- they eat people!"

Remus sighed. "No - unfortunately, they're violent and smart. They do eat humans, but they're definitely sentient beings. Luckily, they don't have much magic, besides their strength."

"What were they attacking Hagrid for?" Harry demanded. "How badly is he hurt?"

Remus leaned wearily against the front gate. His eyes were bloodshot and dark-circled. "I don't have much time to answer questions, Harry. I haven't really slept in three days. I need to get back home, and... we have work to do. Surveillance work."

Harry swallowed and nodded. "All right, then," he said.

"Be careful Apparating," admonished Hermione. "It's very dangerous if you haven't slept in three days."

Remus's tired expression lightened. "Thank you, Hermione. I'm glad you remember your lessons. Don't worry - I'll be very careful." He went through the gate and then turned back.

"Oh!" he said. "I'm sorry we had to cancel your refresher lesson. I'll ask Professor Dumbledore if we can do it next Saturday instead."

Harry felt his heart lighten. He grinned. "That's a brilliant idea."

Professor Lupin winked at him, and walked briskly away. They watched him over the fence as he took the road to Hogsmeade.

"How far outside the Hogwarts grounds does he have to go before he can Apparate?" said Ron, looking at Hermione.

"Oh, just read the book, why don't you?" she snapped.

*

Hunger drove them in at dinnertime. They halted in shock in the doorway of the Great Hall. It was festooned with streamers and giant pumpkins and the tables were loaded with treats. Harry recovered himself after a moment. Of course, it's the Halloween feast. I forgot.

The crowd quieted only briefly when Professor McGonagall stood and made an announcement about Hagrid's return and his injuries, and then rose up again in cheerful uproar. Ron muttered to himself, glaring around the Great Hall.

"I know," said Hermione soothingly. "But they didn't see him, most of them. Just because they're enjoying themselves doesn't mean they're not worried about Hagrid."

"One good thing, at least," said Harry. "With everyone busy at the Feast, we won't have any trouble sneaking out."

This proved to be true. No one seemed to notice when they left early, and they didn't see anybody as they retrieved Harry's Invisibility Cloak and made their way across the grounds.

"Shall we knock?" Hermione said. She had to walk in front of Ron and Harry now, for the cloak to cover them all.

"We'll have to, won't we?" said Harry. He pulled the cloak off and rapped softly.

Penelope Clearwater opened the door.

"Hermione!" she whispered. "What are you doing here?"

"May we see Hagrid, please?" Hermione said.

Penelope hesitated. "Madam Pomfrey said no visitors."

Professor Dumbledore appeared behind Penelope. "Hagrid is awake," he said, smiling at them. "I think it might do him good to see these three," he said to Penelope.

He held the door wide, and Harry looked past him anxiously. Hagrid was lying on his huge bed, a long motionless lump under the brightly patterned quilt. Even in the red light from the fire, his face looked strangely pale. Fang was curled up on the rug at his side, his tongue lolling out and a look of proud contentment on his face.

"Harry!" Hagrid's head turned and he smiled widely. "Ron! Hermione! It's good ter see yeh!"

Harry's heart lifted and he felt his face split in a grin. "It's good to see you, Hagrid!"

"How d'you feel?" asked Ron.

"Won't say I haven' bin better," admitted Hagrid. "Better now I've seen the three of yeh, though. All righ', Hermione?"

Hermione nodded, her eyes full of tears.

Dumbledore and Penelope were making something in Hagrid's small kitchen; it smelled like broth. Harry, Ron and Hermione gathered close to Hagrid.

"Why did they attack you?" said Hermione softly. "You were only trying to find a representative for the Order of the Phoenix!"

Hagrid chuckled. They gaped at him.

"I reckon they took me fer a giant," he said. "There's bin a fair few times when giants an' ogres have gone at each other. They musta seen me as a threat - bin scared of me."

"Well!" said Hermione. "Why did Dumbledore send you, then? Why not a - smaller wizard?"

Hagrid shrugged. "Better ter be taken fer a threat than fer food."

Ron and Harry snorted, but Hermione swelled indignantly. "Why did anyone have to go to them? I know you're supposed to get every race to send a representative to the Order, but - really - the ogres..."

"It's th' only way th' Order has ever worked, Hermione." Hagrid moved a little higher on his pillows. "Yeh can't go missin' out on some groups just 'cause they're hard to get along with. There's on'y one way ter beat a powerful enemy - yeh've got ter get everyone who's decent ter work together. Professor Dumbledore says - "

"Professor Dumbledore says Hagrid needs to get some rest," said Dumbledore softly. He had walked up behind them without making a sound. Reluctantly, Harry, Ron, and Hermione said goodnight to Hagrid and followed the headmaster to the door. Looking back, Harry saw Hagrid's eyes close and his face go slack. Either he had fallen into the instant sleep of exhaustion, or Dumbledore had put a spell on him.

"He will be all right, won't he?" Harry asked. Dumbledore's face was as drawn and weary as he'd ever seen it.

"I hope so, Harry." Dumbledore hesitated. "I hope that Hagrid will be able to walk again."

"What?" yelped Ron. Harry stumbled to a halt on the stoop and turned to stare at Professor Dumbledore.

"His legs took most of the damage," said Dumbledore gently. "Hagrid is healthy and strong - I'm confident now that he will live, with Madam Pomfrey's care. But - he was very badly injured. It will be some time before we know just how much he will be capable of when he recovers. I hope the three of you will come to see him often; he has a long and unpleasant road in front of him."

They promised to visit Hagrid as often as they were allowed, and set off across the dark grounds.

"Blimey," said Ron, "that's hard lines for Dumbledore, to have Hagrid put out of action like that."

"Hard lines for Hagrid, I'd say," said Hermione tartly.

"Yeah," said Ron, ignoring her sharp tone for once, "but I still think Dumbledore's thin on helpers. I wonder who's going to round up the Order now?"

Harry shook his head. Who could? It seemed to him that Remus and Sirius were run ragged already. Could Dumbledore send someone like Charlie Weasley - or Anne Weasley? But they had jobs already, and the ogres sounded dangerous. If Hagrid wasn't tough enough, who could do it? He ran over in his mind what little he'd heard Dumbledore say about 'the old crowd.' Arabella Figg? Mundungus Fletcher? Mad-Eye Moody? They didn't sound like such good candidates.

Harry wished fiercely that he could help. It was agony to go through the humdrum routine of a schoolboy while a handful of people were risking everything to fight evil. And then they have to worry about protecting me - and the Dursleys! If only Cornelius Fudge hadn't been so determined to delude himself - Dumbledore could have asked for Ministry support, and recruited more people to help him. If only Rita Skeeter hadn't written those articles making Harry sounding like a nutter - maybe Fudge would have believed him. Hermione should have just crushed that beetle, Harry thought vindictively. And I should have let Pettigrew be killed. It all came back to that in the end. It all came back to him.

Even Hagrid getting hurt, really. If Hagrid never walked again, it would be partly Harry's fault. If only they hadn't let Pettigrew get away... If only Harry had managed, somehow, to escape before Voldemort got his blood - or stop him, or something. He had been there, but he had been helpless to stop it from happening. Harry hoped that he'd helped, at least, with the Direction-Writer thing. It had to help, that Dumbledore could track Voldemort, even if that meant extra work for Sirius and Remus, who had to keep watch on him.

About time I did something useful. People still called him a hero, but he was more of a burden than anything. How many hours and people had Dumbledore wasted protecting Harry, at the Dursleys' and at the Weasleys'? And all so that he could let Pettigrew live, and donate blood to the Dark Lord. And Snape. Looking back over the past few years, Harry wondered gloomily if he'd ever done anything helpful. Even the Philosopher's Stone... if he had just stayed away, the stone wouldn't have got out of the mirror, and Voldemort wouldn't have had a chance to get it. And Dumbledore had come back, anyway. He would have been in plenty of time, and maybe caught Voldemort and saved Quirrell, if Harry hadn't interfered.

Harry could feel blackness settling over him as they climbed the stairs to the tower. He'd saved Sirius, with Hermione's help, but Sirius wouldn't have been caught in the first place if Harry hadn't interfered with him. He'd worked hard to win the Triwizard Tournament, all so he could help bring Voldemort back to life. He'd never done anything he could be wholly proud of, had he?

Harry's heavy frown lightened as a thought came to him. Yes I bloody well have! He'd killed the basilisk and saved Ginny Weasley and destroyed Tom Riddle's diary and freed Dobby. Those were good things, and he'd done them, and nothing horrible had come from them. Yet. Harry stifled that thought, nodding firmly. He wasn't completely useless. His steps quickened as they neared the portrait door.

"We'll have to tell Ginny about Hagri..." Hermione was saying, but her voice was cut off by a blast of noise as the door swung open.

The Gryffindor common room was in an uproar. As was usual, a Weasley twin was in the centre of it. What was unusual was that Fred Weasley was shouting furiously at Angelina Johnson, and what was even more unusual was that she was shouting back.

"Don't give me that rot about your duties as a prefect!" Fred roared. "You're just jealous, that's all."

"I am not jealous!" Angelina screamed. "You can spend all your time with Alicia Spinnet for all I care. I never want to speak to you again. We're through."

"This has nothing to do with Alicia," shouted Fred. "You're just jealous that you can't Apparate, and you couldn't go to Dundee with us. But to grass on us to McGonagall just because we were a little late..."

"A little late?" Angelina was livid. Harry had never seen her so angry, not even after being fouled at Quidditch. "You said noon and you got back after midnight! And you were all three sloshed. Anyone would have reported you."

"Anyone who cared more about the rules than about their friends," snapped Alicia, cutting in. "I told you what happened, and if you don't believe me..."

Angelina turned on her heel and stomped up the staircase. Fred glared after her.

"Don't bother to tell me we're through," he shouted. "I say we're through. I don't go out with tattle-tales." Angelina didn't look back or respond. Fred thrust his jaw out, and then slammed his way out of the common room and into the corridor. His face was the same colour as the Gryffindor wall hangings. Harry watched him pass with dismay, thinking of the Slytherin match in less than three weeks. Alicia shook off Katie Bell's restraining hand, and stormed up the stairs after Angelina. George moved to follow his brother, shaking his head.

"I hope yours doesn't do that," he muttered as he passed Ron. "Oh yeah, I forgot, you're too chicken to have one."

Ron whirled after George, his ears suddenly beet-red. "What the bloody hell is that supposed to...?" George ignored him and climbed through the portrait hole. Ron roared after him as he slammed the door shut, "You don't have a girlfriend either, you SODDING LOSER!"

There was a brief stunned silence, and then a buzz of gossip filled the room. Ron growled something unintelligible and took the stairs to the boys' dormitories four at a time. Hermione put her chin up and went over to the corner where Ginny was sitting with a dismayed expression on her face. Ginny nodded a welcome to Hermione, and pointedly turned her back on Harry.

Harry stood still, forgetting for the moment his worries about Hagrid and Voldemort. His team's usual Quidditch practice had been cancelled for the night because of the Halloween Feast. Harry found, somehow, that he wasn't much looking forward to the next practice.

*

It turned out that Professor McGonagall had given Fred, George, and Alicia three nights of detention, and barred them from the next two Hogsmeade weekends. Even worse, she had taken ninety points from Gryffindor. Several people had made the mistake of reproaching Angelina about turning in her own housemates, and had lost another five points each for their trouble.

The Quidditch practices for the rest of the week were even worse than Harry had feared. He stood in the shower after Friday evening's session and dismally tallied the damage:

First, Angelina wouldn't speak to Fred or Alicia, and she would barely speak to George. Fred wouldn't speak to Angelina, and he openly flirted with Alicia at every opportunity. Alicia wouldn't speak to Angelina either. George had sided with Fred, but Katie had tried to stay friendly with both Angelina and Alicia, which meant that both girls were now cold to her.

To make matters worse, Ron wouldn't speak to George - or Fred, as far as Harry could tell, and Sophie Greene, the fourth-year reserve who shared Ginny's dormitory, spoke to Harry or Ron only when absolutely necessary.

Harry heaved a giant sigh and turned off the water. He couldn't stay in the shower forever, as much as he might like to. With all the points they'd lost, Gryffindor was now in last place in the standings for the House Cup. Harry knew it was his responsibility as Quidditch captain to win games and recover their ground. But there was nothing in his Quidditch strategy books about resolving romantic quarrels. He formulated a vague plan of action as he finished dressing. I'll start with getting Ron to talk to George - he should be over it by now. And then... maybe if we apologized to Ginny?

When Harry came down the stairs to the common room, he found Ron and Hermione looking happy. Hermione grinned at him and scribbled a quick note. Harry read: 'Professor McGonagall wants us to come to her office at 10 tomorrow.' Immediately, Harry's mood lifted.

"Finally!"

*

To Harry's surprise, everything went smoothly the next day. Professor McGonagall accompanied them to the front gates, where a Hogwarts horseless carriage waited for them.

"You'll be let off immediately in front of Dervish and Banges," she said. "Remember, go out the back door and up the stairs to your right. Mr. Lupin will be there."

They thanked her and climbed into the carriage. Five minutes later, Remus Lupin's smiling face greeted them at the door to Professor McGonagall's flat.

"Did anyone see you?" Remus asked, after he had greeted them.

"I don't think so," said Ron. "Except Mr. Banges behind the counter - he said 'hello.' The place was deserted."

"Banges is not a problem," said Remus, "and this is how the village usually looks when you Hogwarts louts aren't swarming through it like a rampaging army." Ron grinned.

"This flat is really nice," Hermione said.

Harry looked curiously about. They were in a large sitting room that stretched from the front to the back of the building, with windows at both ends. The floor was wooden, the ceiling was very high, and the two long walls were completely filled with bookcases, except for two doors on the right side, one leading to a kitchen and the other probably to a bedroom. Dust swirled in the beams of light from the open windows, but the room looked very comfortable indeed. He could see Hermione drifting toward the shelves of books.

"Errr - where are we going?" Harry said quickly. "To Lupin Lodge?"

"That's the plan," said Remus. "Do you think you can Apparate directly to my pavilion, or would you prefer to calculate the coordinates again?" They were all confident that they could make it.

Remus went ahead to make sure all was safe, then returned and gave them permission to Apparate. Harry forced himself to think calmly. Visualize your destination. He concentrated on the stone floor, the wooden pillars, and the patterned wood-beam roof of the pavilion. Take a deep breath. Harry breathed in. And be there.

With a small popping sound, Harry emerged in the centre of the pavilion, Ron and Hermione on either side of them. A sudden blow on his back startled him, but when he whirled around, he found Sirius grinning at him.

"Sorry, Harry! Didn't mean to whack you so hard." Sirius beamed. "Good to see you again. Good to see you, Ron and Hermione!"

Remus appeared against the wall. "Very well done," he said. "Now, if you please, the parlour."

Harry nodded briefly at Sirius, but immediately popped into the parlour of Lupin Lodge. Almost before he could look around, Remus appeared and ordered them to the rock at Land's End, the Weasleys' kitchen ("hi, Mum"), the Weasleys' back garden, Arabella Figg's parlour, the deserted Quidditch pitch at Appleby, Professor McGonagall's flat once more, and then the kitchen at Lupin Lodge.

Although the whole procedure had taken less than ten minutes, Harry felt as if he'd played an entire Quidditch match.

"Apparating takes a lot of energy," said Remus calmly. "Have a seat."

They all fell wearily into chairs around the kitchen table, only to see a long list of coordinate calculation problems on a piece of parchment in front of them. Even Hermione groaned.

"You can rest for a few minutes before beginning those," said Remus, smiling slightly. "I'll lecture to you in the meantime." He gave them each a glass of water and then leaned against the sink.

"It's very important for your safety to have five or ten places you can Apparate to without thinking, places you can go while half-asleep, or ill, or drunk, or injured - immediately and automatically. Some of them will naturally be places like your home" - he nodded to Ron - "and here, but some of them should be random places that can't be anticipated by your enemies. Somewhere like the Appleby Quidditch pitch or a deserted stretch of beach."

Harry nodded. The whole point of learning to Apparate early was so that they could escape attacks by Harry's enemies. It wouldn't do to Apparate directly into a trap.

"And - whatever you do -" said Remus earnestly "--don't ever, ever try Apparating directly into Hogwarts."

"What happens if you try that?" asked Ron curiously.

Remus winced. "Just - don't."

By the time they had struggled through the calculations on the parchment, and Apparated to three of the destinations, it was lunchtime, and they fell ravenously on the sandwiches Sirius provided. Harry glanced out the window - a howling wind was now tossing the branches of the oak trees, and the back garden looked very different from the green-choked wilderness it had been in August.

"How's Hagrid?" Sirius asked, joining them at the table. "Have you seen him?"

"We saw him that first night," Harry said. "We've gone out there every day this week, but either Hagrid's been asleep, or Madam Pomfrey has been there, so we haven't been able to talk to him again. Dumbledore said... he might not be able to walk again."

Neither Remus nor Sirius looked surprised.

Hermione flared up. "I don't see why he had to go alone to such dangerous people. Can't Professor Dumbledore find anyone to go with him?"

"Madame Maxime accompanied him for the first few contacts," said Remus, "but she had to return to Beauxbatons when school opened." He shifted slightly in his chair. "We really have so few people, it's hard to..."

Sirius shook his head. "We're stretched pretty thin as it is. I don't know what Dumbledore is going to do now..." His voice trailed off, and he pressed his lips together.

"What's going on?" said Ron desperately. "Are you keeping watch on You-Know-Who now? Do you know about that Death Eater meeting that Harry dreamed about? Has Voldemort done anything?"

Harry nodded; these were the questions he wanted to ask.

"Our main responsibility is keeping an eye on Voldemort and Wormtail," said Remus. "We've got a surveillance post near Gifford Hall, and we alternate twelve hour shifts. Whenever Wormtail goes somewhere, we try to follow him if we can. He walks or goes by broom - probably because Apparition from a Muggle location might be noticed by the Ministry of Transportation."

"Who's watching them now?" asked Ron.

"Mad-Eye."

"How can Voldemort be living in Gifford Hall, anyway?" said Hermione. "Don't they have tours going through, and people who work there?"

"It's closed for repairs at present," said Remus. "Or so the Muggles think, anyway. No actual repairs are being done. I went to the local pub and asked some questions - it turns out that the roof collapsed in a rainstorm last summer, damaging some of the rooms. The locals believe the work is being done by a contractor from London - but whenever they try to think about it, they immediately start thinking about something else. It was hard getting them to remember even that much."

"Very strong Muggle Repelling Charms," said Sirius.

"Why would they go to that much trouble?" said Harry. "Wouldn't it be easier to live somewhere inconspicuous?"

"It's pretty clear by now," said Sirius, "that Voldemort doesn't want people to know he's back. Someone's got Fudge convinced now that the whole story is a plot to force him out of office. In fact, he's saying..." Sirius glanced worriedly at Harry... "Mad-Eye has heard that Fudge is telling people that you started this story, Harry, and that you're not in your right senses. Watch your back, and..." He stopped.

"What?" said Harry.

"Well, just... try not to do anything strange or attract too much attention. If you can."

Ron grinned. "Yeah, Harry, try to act sane for a change."

Harry scowled, ignoring Ron. "But why would living in a big Muggle mansion keep Voldemort from being found? Why not something less noticeable?"

"Anywhere in the Muggle world is a good hiding place," shrugged Remus. "And this particular place is very isolated. There are no wizarding folk anywhere near. And it's a very nice place. I suppose it suits his idea of a proper residence for the Dark Lord - it must make a good impression on visitors."

"Does he have visitors?" said Ron.

"Occasionally," Sirius answered. "We report them to Dumbledore, of course. So far, only the people you'd expect - Malfoy, Avery, Nott..."

"Do you think he knows he's being watched?" said Hermione.

"Good question, Hermione," said Remus. "As best we can guess, no. Pettigrew always goes disguised when he leaves on errands, and takes precautions against being followed back to the mansion. I don't think they've realized that Dumbledore is using the Direction-Writer. But who can tell?"

"Is Malfoy gathering gold?" asked Harry. "Is he selling things?"

"Yes," said Sirius. "Fletcher is keeping an eye on him."

"Mundungus Fletcher?" said Harry. He had heard Dumbledore mention that name the night he had sent Sirius out to gather up 'the old crowd.'

Sirius nodded. "Crazy old coot, but he knows everything about money. Goblins'll even talk to him, sometimes."

"Do you two have any idea what the thing is that Voldemort wants? Or who has it?"

Sirius and Remus exchanged a glance, and Remus answered. "We think it's somewhere outside Britain. Henry Nott returned from a trip abroad just before that meeting you dreamed about, Harry. Unfortunately, we don't know where he was. He definitely went to France, but then he disappeared. And - last summer - Lucius Malfoy chartered a yacht to take his family for a Mediterranean tour, but nobody saw them for five weeks. He could have gone anywhere in that time."

"Oh!" Harry had made the exclamation without thinking. Everyone stared at him.

"What, Harry?" said Sirius.

"I heard him - Draco Malfoy. When I was in the Invisibility Cloak, he was telling a bunch of Slytherins something about a trip on a boat. Something about the captain letting him steer -"

"Did he say where he went?" Sirius demanded.

"If he did, I didn't hear it," said Harry. "But he was talking to a bunch of fourth and fifth-year Slytherin boys - maybe they heard."

"Was Ian St. Clair one of them?" said Hermione.

"Yeah - yeah, I think he was!" said Harry, with a stirring of excitement. He looked at Hermione. "Maybe you could ask Ginny to... ask him?" Because there was no way she'd do him - or Ron - a favour right now.

Hermione looked uncertain. "I think she - all right, I'll ask her. But, Harry -"

"What?"

"Remember - you said Malfoy said something about mermaids? And I said there are merpeople in the Azores?"

"Right!" said Ron excitedly. Then he frowned. "But there are merpeople everywhere! Even here at Hogwarts."

"He wasn't talking about them," said Harry definitely. "Errr - where are the ones who are... you know... pretty? Because that's what it sounded like he was -"

"Greece," said Hermione promptly, "the Mediterranean, the South Atlantic, Africa. Anywhere the waters are warm."

"So that doesn't really help us," said Harry, deflated. "And there's no knowing for sure that their trip even had anything to do with the thing that Voldemort wants."

"Well, whatever it was," said Sirius, "I'll bet broomsticks to beetle eyes that it had something to do with making him immortal again. Everything he's done so far has been related to that. Except -" He broke off, sliding his eyes toward Hermione.

"Except burning down my house," said Hermione calmly. "I expect that was just a message to Harry - a personal warning. They didn't claim credit for it. They didn't even send up the Dark Mark."

"Does that mean Voldemort won't attack Harry until he makes himself immortal again?" asked Ron.

"Probably not openly," said Remus, shrugging. "But there are ways..." A shiver crossed his face.

"Don't take any chances, Harry," growled Sirius quickly. "We know he wants to kill you. He has to."

"But why?" said Harry. "Revenge? Because of what happened when I was a baby."

"Revenge would be enough," said Remus firmly. He gave Sirius a quelling look.

Harry looked from Sirius to Remus, feeling frustration rising to choke him. They know something, and they won't tell me. It's just like Dumbledore. He knew he was glowering.

"You said you were going to tell him everything." Ron had obviously seen the look too. "You said that last summer." His voice rose angrily as he glared at Sirius. "How can Harry protect himself if you won't tell him the truth? You said -"

"We said we'd tell Harry what was going on," said Sirius, glaring back at Ron. "Not..." He broke off, with a guilty glance at Remus.

Remus jumped to his feet. "Sirius... don't! Remember what happened - to us. Just shut UP."

Harry gaped. Remus's face was white, and Sirius had flushed bright red.

"Why did Voldemort want to kill me in the first place?" Harry asked, his voice level and determined. Remus and Sirius both flinched slightly; Harry knew he was on the right track. He pushed himself to standing, his eyes locked on Sirius's. "Dumbledore said I would know when the time was right. I need to know now."

"Ron and I can leave," said Hermione quietly. "But I think you should tell Harry, whatever it is. Whatever you know. It's not fair not to tell him."

"You don't even know what it is," said Remus, in a harsher voice than Harry had ever heard from him. "You don't know." Hermione recoiled from his fierce look.

"And you don't know Harry," retorted Ron. "After all he's been through - after all he's done - you still think he's a little boy. Don't you think he has a right to know why You-Know-Who keeps trying to kill him?" Ron's face was as red as Sirius's now, and he, too, jumped to his feet. "Harry almost died last summer - he would have died without ever knowing why. Don't you think he deserves that much? Don't you trust him?"

Sirius gave a strange barking laugh, and buried his face in his hands. Remus stood frozen, his face a mask of indecision. Hermione stood up.

"Come on Ron - we're leaving," she said. "Remus, is it all right if we Apparate back to Professor McGonagall's flat? We can wait for Harry there."

"I'll come with you," said Remus slowly. "Sirius and Harry need some time to talk..."

Sirius's head shot up. "Remus! You mean I should tell him?"

"I don't know," said Remus heavily. "But you need to talk." Remus disappeared with a 'pop' and returned instantly. "It's all clear," he said.

Ron and Hermione nodded, and Disapparated, their eyes on Harry until the very last second. Remus followed. Harry turned away from the spot where they'd been and looked at Sirius. They were alone. And Sirius would tell him. He had to.

*

"Let's go outside, Harry." Sirius pushed back his chair and rose. Harry looked doubtfully at the window. The wind was whipping strands of ivy against the glass. He shrugged and stood.

Sirius pulled two thick cloaks from a hook near the door. He wrapped the black one around him, and threw the shabby brown one to Harry to wear. Harry braced himself as they passed out the door, but the wind, though fierce, was not as cold as he expected. He reminded himself that they were many miles south of Hogwarts.

Sirius led the way past the stone shed and to a path into the woods. The path was covered with dead leaves that swirled away as their feet kicked them up. Sirius dug his hands into the pockets of his cloak and strode rapidly, his head bent into the wind. Harry hurried to keep up, wondering where Sirius was heading, and why. The exercise, and the weather, was exhilarating, but Harry chafed at the delay. Was Sirius trying to put him off?

But just as Harry thought this, they came to a wooden bridge across a dry streambed - no, not dry, Harry saw - there was a trickle of water running along the bottom of the rill. There were no rails to the bridge, and Sirius sat down on the edge, his long legs dangling over the water. Harry sat beside him.

"I'm probably paranoid," said Sirius, "but... we don't want to be overheard."

"Do you think there's a Revealall in Remus's kitchen?" Harry asked, startled. "We talked pretty freely..."

"No, I don't think so," said Sirius impatiently, "but this is different. We can't take any chances. Harry..." He swallowed, and spoke firmly. "Do you know how your grandfather died?"

"Simon Potter?" said Harry blankly. "Voldemort killed him. Is that what this is about? Voldemort wanted to kill me just because my grandfather tried to kill him? Why is that such a big secret?"

Sirius set his jaw and refused to look at Harry. "No," he said quietly, "that's not all. It all started when Voldemort came into the open and started his campaign of terror. We were just kids - first years - but James had all the news because of his mum - your grandmother. And then, after she died, things got suddenly worse. They said it was natural causes, but I've always wondered if..."

"My grandmother?" said Harry, confused. "What did she...? Why did she know all about it?"

Sirius turned to stare at Harry. "Well, she was Minister of Magic - of course she knew all about..."

"Minister of Magic!" Harry couldn't help interrupting. "My grandmother was Minister of Magic?"

"Of course, Harry. Hasn't anyone told you anything?" Sirius looked astounded at Harry's ignorance. "I suppose you haven't got to the twentieth century yet in History of Magic." He laughed. "Now I'm sorry I ruined it for you - it would be quite a shock to be dozing through class, and suddenly hear Binns talking about Esmerelda Potter." The laughter disappeared from his face as quickly as it had come. "Her death was very hard on James, and then..."

Sirius looked away from Harry again, staring into the woods. "We didn't know it, but Dumbledore was working frantically to convene the Order of the Phoenix, for the first time since the 1940's. Do you know about the Order, Harry?"

"Just that it has representatives from all the intelligent beings," said Harry. "I know they chose Dumbledore to fight Grindelwald."

Sirius nodded. "It is only convened in times of great danger - almost everything about it is a deep secret, including the place where they meet, and how they make their decisions. But, as a chosen Defender, Dumbledore can call a meeting of the Order, if the phoenix agrees that it is necessary. What I heard - and this is all third-hand, Harry - is that Dumbledore went into the Forest to talk to the centaurs. They refused to send a representative to the meeting, which he expected, but they also gave him some very disturbing advice. According to them, only a Defender chosen by the Order could succeed against Voldemort, but the Order would choose a Defender who could not succeed."

Harry frowned. "Does that mean that Voldemort can't be defeated by anybody? But..." didn't I defeat him? He couldn't say that aloud.

Sirius shrugged. "Dumbledore didn't want to interpret it like that, of course. But he took the centaurs' warnings seriously. So he consulted a few diviners. And one of them - I've never known who it was - gave him an answer."

"What was it?" said Harry quickly.

"He asked them who could defeat Voldemort," said Sirius. "And the answer was one word - Potter."

"Was that...?" Harry broke off. If the prediction had come true already, it must refer to... "Was that me?"

Sirius looked at him seriously. "You did defeat Voldemort, Harry, even if it wasn't permanent. The prediction came true."

"But... I've never been chosen by the Order. Have I?"

Sirius shook his head. "The Order never met. Your grandfather was a friend of Dumbledore's, and Dumbledore told him about the prophecy." Sirius looked away. "Your grandfather might have been driven slightly mad by his wife's death. I know he was convinced that Voldemort had managed to have her murdered in some way, though no one could figure out how. Anyway..." Sirius grimaced. "He had his own interpretation of the prophecy. He was convinced that he was the only one who could defeat Voldemort, but that if the Order met, they would choose someone else."

"But..." Harry wrinkled his brows. "The centaurs said only someone chosen by the Order could..."

"James's father thought that if he succeeded, they could choose him after the fact, making the prophecy true," said Sirius dryly. "An ingenious theory, but I think..." He glanced at Harry again. "I think he was afraid that they would choose James. James was only fourteen. Anyway, he went off to challenge Voldemort, and he left a letter for James, telling him all about it. And he died."

"How?" said Harry. "Did they duel?"

"No one knows," said Sirius grimly. "Your grandfather was a famous duellist, and a very powerful wizard, but... his body was left in the village commons in Godric's Hollow."

"Was it - did Voldemort use Avada Kedavra?" Harry asked.

"They weren't sure," said Sirius uncomfortably. "His, errr, body was found with its head cut off. The head was face down in the grass beside it, and the skull and snake symbol was branded on his forehead."

Harry felt a stab of rage and grief for this grandfather whom he'd never known. But Sirius was still talking.

"In his letter, he told James to never, ever tell a single soul about the prophecy. He said that no one knew about it but Dumbledore - that even the Diviner didn't know what prediction he or she had made. And Dumbledore talked to James and told him the same thing - that his safety depended on Voldemort never hearing about the prophecy, because James was the last of the Potters and Voldemort would kill him without hesitation, just to be safe. But..."

Harry could feel Sirius's tension, see it in the set of his jaw, and hear it in his voice. "But James told two people. Lily and... me."

"Lily never told a single soul," said Sirius, his voice cracking now, "but I did. I told Remus, and then..." Sirius's face was rigid with some old emotion. The veins stood out in his neck and his fists were clenched. "Not long after that, a few weeks later, Dumbledore heard, from one of his spies, that Voldemort was planning to kill James and... you. He must have heard. He must have heard about the prophecy."

Harry put a hand on Sirius's arm - it was rock-hard. "I thought it had to be Remus who told him," said Sirius, in a harsh whisper. "I thought it was all my fault, and it was, though it wasn't Remus. Peter must have... he always wanted to know secrets. He must have... listened somehow, spying on us. Maybe he was already spying for Voldemort, even before Voldemort knew about the prophecy. Peter must have..." Sirius turned his head away from Harry, and was silent for a minute.

"I thought it was Remus," said Sirius finally, his head still turned away. "And I convinced James and Lily that it had to be. And they died. Because I couldn't keep a secret. Because James told me. Because Simon told James. Because Dumbledore told Simon. Can't you understand, Harry..." Sirius spun back around and skewered Harry with a hard glare. "Why Dumbledore didn't want to tell you? Why we didn't want to tell you? Because telling Simon and James killed them."

Harry looked away from Sirius's keen eyes. He felt light-headed, with questions and emotions spinning in his brain. One forced its way out.

"Why didn't he want to kill my mother?" Harry asked. Sirius looked startled.

"How do you know that he didn't?"

"I - I've heard it," stuttered Harry. "When the Dementors..."

Sirius's brows contracted sharply. "Yes... Remus told me. Well, she wasn't a Potter, was she?"

"She wasn't?" said Harry, confused. "But - wasn't she married to my dad?" Snape's nasty insinuations came back into his mind.

"Yes," said Sirius, "but your mum had some very strong ideas about women's rights - apparently it's a Muggle custom for a wife to keep her own last name. Anyway, James wouldn't have wanted her to put herself in danger." He trailed off, looking uncomfortable. "Most people called her Lily Potter, but she wasn't."

Harry felt like his stomach was rising into his throat. He really, really didn't want to ask anything. But he had promised Ron... and he knew he would be sorry later if he didn't.

"Snape said..." He couldn't go on. Sirius looked at him enquiringly.

Harry swallowed. "Snape said... some things about my parents." He saw a flash of anger pass over Sirius's face, and then his face was blank - suspiciously blank.

"What did he say, Harry?"

Harry didn't even need to think back. The words were burned into his brain. "He said... my mother never paid any attention to my father until his father died and he inherited his fortune. And that she pursued him 'rather obviously' after that because she was very poor. And that she wanted him to marry her, but he wouldn't - until she got pregnant with me."

Sirius's face had gotten darker and darker while Harry spoke. As he finished, Sirius jumped to his feet. Harry stood up, too.

"That... I'll kill him. How dare he?" Sirius paced back and forth across the bridge with quick steps, his feet thumping on the wood. Harry watched him, stiff-faced, waiting for Sirius to say something.

"Look, Harry," Sirius came to him and took him by the shoulders. Harry looked up at him, waiting. "Snape has no idea - no idea at all. Yes, your mother was poor, after her parents died. You know about that, don't you?" Harry shook his head.

"Those..." Sirius muttered a curse under his breath, directed, Harry knew, to the Dursleys. "Lily was perfectly well off, until her parents died, third year. Apparently, they left no insurance, and there were no relatives to take in the two girls - your mother and your aunt. But your aunt was nineteen, old enough to be made Lily's guardian. She - what's her name again?"

"Petunia," said Harry numbly.

"Right," said Sirius. "Well, Petunia had been going to something called a "Uni" - you probably know what that is, but she dropped out and took a different course, to be a secretary. They sold the house, and lived on that money until your aunt could get a job and support Lily in the summers. So, yes, she was poor, but so what? That had nothing to do with... look, James was crazy about her, and it was the happiest day of his life when she finally noticed him." Sirius smiled, as though at an amusing memory, but he didn't share it with Harry. "Anyway, that was before James's father died. That didn't happen until the Winter term fifth year. And Snape doesn't know... anything. He was always dead jealous of James, ever since first year. And he's an idiot."

Harry couldn't help grinning, but he sobered quickly. "And what about the other thing - the thing about me?"

Sirius scowled. "Snape doesn't know anything about that, either, Harry. After school, Lily went back to the Muggle World - Lily, the Head Girl! She was working as a waitress, Harry, because she thought it was her duty to pay Petunia back, and let her finally go to that Uni thing. James was wild - of course he wanted to marry her. He wanted to bring her back into the wizarding world where she belonged. The fights they used to have!" Sirius laughed. "But Lily wouldn't leave as long as Petunia was going to school, and she wouldn't take any money from James either - and James - he was afraid that if she married him, she would be in danger."

"And what about - me?" said Harry stubbornly. Sirius gave him a quizzical look.

"By that time," he said, "James was convinced that it was his fate to fight Voldemort. As soon as we graduated, I think Dumbledore started again to try to convene a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix, and I know that James was determined to - we used to tease him about it -" Harry looked at Sirius, but his godfather refused to meet his eyes. "You know... he was determined to stay... a virgin, until he found out whether he was going to be chosen to face Voldemort. So, even when your Aunt Petunia decided to leave school and get married, and Lily rejoined us, they decided that they had better wait. Because his power - you know about that, right?"

"Yes," said Harry awkwardly. "I know. So what...?"

"What happened?" said Sirius. His lips twitched. "Well... they were in love, Harry. They didn't tell me exactly what happened, but... I think we can make a pretty good guess."

"So Snape was right about that," said Harry coldly.

"Yes, but Harry -" Sirius looked at him keenly. "Never be sorry - because it was the best thing that could have happened. Harry, they were happy. They had two years of happiness together, because of you. They had you, Harry, and no child could have been more wanted, or more loved."

Harry stared at the ground. "And my mother died, because of it - because of me. Maybe my father would have, anyway, but..."

"Harry, as the old saying goes, you didn't ask to be born. If anyone was responsible, it was your parents. Nothing that happened was your fault. If it was anyone's fault, it was mine." Sirius stared off into the woods, and fell silent again.

Without speaking, they both left the bridge and started walking slowly back to Lupin Lodge. Nothing was said until the house was in sight, and then Sirius looked down at Harry.

"So," he said, "are you going to tell them?"

"Tell them?" said Harry blankly, but then he made the connection. Sirius was asking if he was going to tell Ron and Hermione about the prophecy, and what had happened because of it. Harry thought for a moment.

"Why wouldn't I?" he said. "It's not a secret anymore. Voldemort already knows, and Pettigrew knows. What harm can it do now?"

Sirius stopped dead. Harry stopped too, and faced him.

"Never say that," Sirius said, his voice deep and stern. "Prophecies are always very dangerous things. I wouldn't have told you at all, if I hadn't thought you'd take it seriously. This prophecy has already killed three people, Harry, and it can kill more."

Harry nodded, feeling ashamed. Then he lifted his chin and looked at Sirius. "I understand," he said, "but I'm going to tell them - I have to."

Sirius searched Harry's face for a moment, and then nodded. "I suppose we'll have to trust you not to repeat our mistakes."

Right, thought Harry, because we'll make all-new ones. But his heart felt lighter as he headed toward the house to find Remus and rejoin his friends.

* * *

Next Chapter: (Hermione Interlude) The Best-Laid Plans

A very short chapter.