Unplottable

5 - Sirius

During the last school year, Sirius had often wished for the holidays, had wished for a time when he could move about in the school more freely. He wasn't complaining; working as a Spellsearcher together with Remus was, if not a vocation, at least a worthwhile occupation. However, his presence at Hogwarts had to remain a secret, and even Remus was not supposed to be seen by the students too often. Of course, some students had known that they were looking for a way to Counter Icy Fingers in the Spellsearchers' Lab in the castle's west wing - Harry, Ron, Hermione as well as Varlerta's apprentices, Ginny and Neville.

Varlerta - she was the reason why he had wished for the holidays to end as soon as they had begun. He had been interested in her - in love with her, he corrected himself - for quite a while. Because of Murphy's law, or maybe because of his own cowardice, he hadn't succeeded in striking up a relationship with her until a few days before she had flown to America. He had hardly been able to believe it when she had left the half-blown bud of their love behind just because she and her band were going to record a new album - well, maybe they had had other things to do in the States, but she hadn't told him much about it.

Communication had been a bit difficult during these weeks: Most owls could not cross the Atlantic. Instead, she had sent her three letters and two postcards to Florean Fortescue in London by 'snail mail,' as she called it - a Muggle way of sending letters which took a very long time, even though Sirius was sure that there were no real snails involved. Florean in turn had sent the letters to Sirius per owl. To write her back, Sirius had to reverse the whole procedure, owling his letters to Florean and hoping that the ice cream merchant sent them on with Muggle snails. Anyone who had ever been newly in love would have found such meagre means of communication rather painful, he thought.

Now the holidays were over, Varlerta was back, and so were the students. Again, the two of them could not walk hand in hand along the shore of the lake without means of protection such as Harry's Invisibility Cloak. Sirius found himself wishing for a little time the two of them could have all to themselves - no students to avoid, no classes for her to prepare, no curses to for him counter. It would have been nice, a nagging voice inside of him said, if he could have Varlerta and holidays at the same time. But all in all he was happy - his lover was back with him, the only lover he had ever had, and he finally felt he was escaping the shadow of Azkaban.

In the late afternoon, after her classes were over and his Spellsearcher's duty was done, he put on Harry's Cloak and walked out to her sound-proof building. Her apprentices were still there: Ginny was harassing Varlerta about a broken bass amplifier, while Neville just stood on the side and looked slightly unhappy. They hardly noticed him when he came in, he realised, but told himself that he should not take the fickleness of teenagers personally. Varlerta seemed very happy to see him, and that was what mattered most, after all. While she took care to get rid of her apprentices quickly, but in a friendly manner, he went over to the CD player, making use of a privilege reserved for someone who had been asked to feel at home in her place. Digging through the shiny plastic CD cases piled on top of the stereo, he realised that most band names were unfamiliar to him; unwilling to put on some music he didn't know, he finally settled for the Beatles' Abbey Road for memories' sake, feeling distinctly outdated.

When they were alone, Varlerta came up to him for a hug. However, after greeting him with a few kisses, she gave him a troubled look. "I went into town to use a phone this morning when I had an hour to spare," she told him.

He nodded, knowing that for Varlerta and her overseas connections, Muggle telecommunication was as important as a good owl was for most people. If not for Hogwarts' dense magical atmosphere, she would have hooked up a Muggle device called computer to a network called internet, she had told him at length - a network that would have permitted Sirius and her to exchange letters far more easily over the holidays. As it was, she had to leave the grounds even to make a phone call.

"Did you talk to Aisha?" he asked, suddenly slightly afraid of the answer.

Varlerta bit her lip and nodded. Then she rested her forehead on his shoulder, obviously unwilling to talk.

"Did she say she was mistaken, then?" He insisted. To his concern, the witch in his arms shook her head, moving her face against his robes.

"Nope - she was adamant that she had seen what she had seen, and was quite offended when I suggested she might have made a mistake."

Sirius sighed. Maybe he should not let the whole affair bother him so much - it was just that he hated mysteries, especially unexplainable mysteries with a slightly threatening undertone.

The night Varlerta had returned to Hogwarts, she had confronted Lupin half teasingly, but essentially seriously, asking him what he was thinking of, treating her friend in this fashion. The Muggle drummer of Varlerta's band, Aisha, had allegedly been in a slightly seedy wizard bar in New York, looking for Varlerta. Unfortunately, instead of Varlerta she had only found a couple of hired wands there, wizards seemingly bent on hurting or kidnapping Aisha. So far, so good - even so credible. What sounded incredible was that Aisha had seen Lupin there, his oldest and dearest friend Lupin, who had allegedly refused Aisha his help in a very rude and aloof manner. Aisha had been desperate, fearing for her life, but Lupin had only claimed that he did not know her.

In the end, nothing had happened: A strange person of uncertain gender called Lucullus, someone Varlerta called 'dangerous' (and that was really saying something), had decided to take Aisha under his/her protection, had walked the Muggle past the potential aggressors and had safely brought her to Varlerta's apartment.

While being undoubtedly a cause for worry, the story would not have bothered Sirius half as much if not for Aisha's insistence that Lupin had been in the bar and that he had behaved in a way which could only be described as 'out of character.' Refusing to help someone in need did not sound like him at all. Of course, Sirius reasoned with himself, Aisha must either be mistaken, or she had to be lying: Lupin himself insisted that he had not been in a bar in New York in his whole life, that indeed he had never even left the British Isles, as werewolf registration laws put severe restrictions on his travelling options. Sirius would have liked to confirm Lupin's statement by pointing out that Lupin had been at Hogwarts with him on that particular night. A look at the calendar, however, had put a nagging hint of doubt into Sirius' heart: Lupin had been away the whole week to take his turn in the secret guard on Azkaban. If he had had one of Lupin's guard companions at hand, say, Mundungus Fletcher or Penthesilea Finnegan, Sirius would have liked to ask them if Lupin had indeed spent that particularly week with guard duty. Of course, such a wish was unworthy of a true friend. Sirius had never had any reason to distrust Lupin; checking up on him meant acknowledging that he didn't believe in Lupin's word anymore.

"I'm sure that Remus was in Britain," he finally replied, feeling helpless. "I trust him. Why should he be lying?"

Varlerta looked him in the eyes. He could tell by the way her mouth tensed up that she did not take these matters lightly, either. "I trust him, as well, because you do. I trust Aisha, too - there's certainly no reason why she should be lying. She might be mistaken, but as she is neither stupid nor blind, it sounds unlikely to me - unless someone is messing about with Polyjuice Potion or the like. But why should someone do something like that? What's more, do it to fool a Muggle?"

"Beats me," he said, nuzzling her hair. "I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation, though."

"So am I," she assured him softly, sounding as unconvinced as he.

"So have you caught a boggart for the third years yet?" he asked her to change the subject.

Varlerta sighed and let herself fall onto the sofa, pulling him with her. Half-sitting and, well, half-not-quite-sitting, he listened to her relate a few school day anecdotes to him, closing with the remark that she would ask Lupin for help regarding the boggart, and that she would very much like to share her job with Lupin, as both of them had their distinctive qualifications. Sirius took her off-hand remarks as a sign that Varlerta still believed Lupin trustworthy.

In turn, he told her about his and Lupin's recent progress at Spellsearching. Their greatest problem were the ice missiles: As they had not been able to preserve any of them for analysis, they did not know how they were made and which effect they might have. They could not simulate them, either, as they did not know how to cast the Ice Missile Curse - if it was a curse of its own, and not "a rather nasty update of the Icy Fingers Curse," as Varlerta had termed it.

Back in 1980, when the Beatles album they were listening to now had only been a decade old, when music still came in the shape of large black discs instead of small silvery ones, Lily, James and Sirius had already searched for a way to Counter Icy Fingers. Things had looked hopeless until the three of them had received unexpected help in their Spellsearching activities: Dumbledore's spy among the Death Eaters had been able to show them how the curse was cast. Sirius could not help wishing they had a spy now who could teach them more about the Ice Missile Curse. He felt like expressing this wish, but for some reason he couldn't quite name, he was unwilling to even mention Severus Snape in front of Varlerta. Instead he expressed his worries in more general terms.

Hogwarts had to expect another attack any day, any minute; it was Lupin's and Sirius' job to give the school a chance to defend itself. Before the summer holidays, their meticulous work had paid off, probably saving the lives of everyone in the castle: They had found a way to Counter Icy Fingers, and Harry, aided by one of his mysterious and spontaneous outbursts of increased magical power, had somehow managed to put the counter curse to use. Over the holidays, Lupin, Harry and Sirius had practiced and refined the counter curse; three nights a week, the trustworthy among the staff of Hogwarts met with Sirius and Lupin now to learn how to fight Icy Fingers.

"We should put in an extra practice session tonight, so I can learn to use the counter curse as quickly as possible. I need to show it to the students soon," Varlerta interrupted Sirius' elaborations.

He smiled at her and ran his fingers through her black hair. "Once a teacher, always a teacher."

"I've got my responsibilities, just as you do," she replied soberly. "If I had known how great mine would become, I might have never dared to apply for this post. Now that I am here, I have to do the best I can to fulfil the expectations set in someone teaching the students of Hogwarts to defend themselves against the Dark Arts."

He nodded, knowing that a school full of students able to counter Icy Fingers was the best defence they could possibly get, although he would have preferred to spend the evening in a more, er, romantic fashion than teaching a counter curse.

When the song I want you / She's so heavy ended abruptly, he almost rose from the sofa to flip over the record, but was prevented by the next song starting automatically, as well as by Varlerta laughing into her sleeve. Ah, yes, CDs were not flipped over. He knew that, of course, because he had lived with the little devices for many months now, but the music of his past triggered old patterns of behaviour in him. Lily had owned Beatles records as long as he knew her, but had still started every single time the A-side of Abbey Road stopped right in the middle of a musical phrase. Sirius shook his head to ban his memories where they belonged - to the back of his mind.

"We might as well put in a practice session right now," he replied. "I think Harry is not at Quidditch practice tonight, so maybe we can get him to join us - Remus, too, if he isn't asleep yet."

"As long as Harry keeps his hazardous beast out of my way," Varlerta said with a grimace.

Now it was Sirius' turn to laugh at her. "Superstitious, Professor?" he teased her as he offered her a hand up. Varlerta rose with a moan.

"At the end of a long day of teaching, sometimes all I really want is my bed," she mumbled and pointed her wand at her stereo to turn it off in the middle of Here Comes the Sun. Swallowing his reply that going to bed did not sound like such a bad idea to him, Sirius transformed into a dog and followed her out of the building.

As he had expected, they found Harry near Hagrid's hut, grooming the Thestral. Harry's pet - if the Thestral was Harry's pet and not the other way around - flipped his long, silky black tail and looked like he could bring nothing but good luck and happiness. Hermione and Ron, who had obviously come with Harry, regarded the magical beast from a respectful distance, as if they were afraid of catching a disease. Hagrid however stood at Harry's side, admiring the beauty of the winged horse, probably for the two hundred and sixty-eighth time.

"'e's a classy little pony, as purty as one of 'is likes can be," the half-giant murmured dreamily. "Never seen'un so fine, and lemme tell you, I've spotted a few of'em now an' then."

The Thestral nuzzled Hagrid's large, outstretched hands, perhaps appreciating the compliment. Harry, Ron and Hermione greeted Varlerta politely; then Harry turned to the dog. "Snuffles, what's up?" he said in a manner which made Sirius feel welcome. The dog sat down by Harry's side, wagging his tail, but feeling like a hypocrite. It dawned on him that he should better tell Harry about him and Varlerta before the boy found out from somebody else. During the holidays, he had resisted the temptation to moon openly over Varlerta's few letters, and Remus had been too tactful to mention her. Now however, it was high time to tell Harry that the only parent he had ever known had hooked up with one of Harry's teachers. Sirius decided to break the news gently, at a more appropriate time.

"We wanted to ask you if you could possibly find the time for half an hour of countering practice, Harry," Varlerta said politely.

Harry shot Hermione and Ron a glance; he had probably planned spending his Quidditch-free evening with his friends. After a tiny pause, possibly needed to bite back a less polite reply, he answered her: "Sure, any time." He rubbed the Thestral's nose affectionately as a gesture of parting and turned to Ron and Hermione. "Care to come along?" he asked them without enquiring whether Varlerta would mind. However, nobody objected, so the teacher, the three students and the large, black dog started towards the castle, leaving the ever-present Thestral with Hagrid, who, Sirius hoped, was immune to bad luck.

Lupin had already retired to his bedroom, probably making up the sleep he had lost in the last few days he had spent as a werewolf. They had to make do without him, then. Before the holidays, Sirius would have refused simulating Icy Fingers in the presence of students without having Remus around, but he felt different about it now. At first, Harry had only helped out, his interest triggered by his own surprising success at Countering the curse. Soon, Sirius had found out that he enjoyed working with Harry very much. The boy wasn't overeager or pushy, but if he accepted a task, he worked on it with quiet persistence and concentration. Every once in a while, he had a brilliant idea; the rest of the time, he cooperated without arrogance or even reluctance to take advice from others.

Many times during the holidays, Sirius, Harry and sometimes Remus had worked late into the night, bent on improving their counter curse. On a few occasions, Sirius had almost committed the blunder of calling the boy James. The way Harry reminded him of his old friend, not only in his looks, but also in his way of working, of talking, of soberly focussing on the task at hand was nothing short of uncanny. Sirius and James had worked into the night innumerable times, discussing how to deliver the magical community from the peril of Voldemort's marrow-freezing curse. Now Sirius had long conversations about the same topic with Harry, whose resemblance to the adult James increased as he grew older. A few times, in the small hours of the morning, when Sirius had looked over his desk at a bleary-eyed Harry, it was as if time had not passed at all. Of course, that was not true; it was rather that Harry was starting to fill his father's shoes.

After Sirius had transformed back into a wizard, he and Harry conjured up the Atmoglisa Magica to practice curse Countering in an atmosphere of relative safety. Then Sirius reminded Varlerta, Ron and Hermione of the most important aspects of Countering, knowing that neither of them would mind hearing a piece of advice once too often instead of once too rarely. He corrected Ron's wand movement, aware that Hermione and Varlerta would listen closely and benefit from his instructions as well.

As she had been trained by him before, Varlerta managed to Counter a weakened simulation version of Icy Fingers; Ron and Hermione had picked up a thing or two from Harry, as well. Their skills would not suffice to fend off an attack yet, but it was certainly a beginning; Ron and especially Hermione were probably way ahead of their year mates' Countering skills already, and Varlerta would be able to start teaching the curse to students soon, when she had managed it sufficiently herself. In less than an hour, all three countering trainees had made some noticeable progress, improving the school's chances of surviving another attack a bit further. Finally, Sirius and Varlerta both claimed that they had done enough for that night. The five of them sat down on the mismatched chairs in the Spellsearchers' Lab, wiping cold sweat off their foreheads.

"Both of you make quite good teachers, Harry and Sirius, by the way," Varlerta commented after a few minutes of exhausted silence. "I will do my best to pass all I learned tonight on to my students, but I wish they could learn to counter the curse from you." She gave Sirius a very special smile which made him feel very important and talented. "I will see how this can be brought about. You should be a teacher for Countering, Sirius, and Harry should be your assistant, just like Ginny and Neville are mine. After all, the safety of Hogwarts may depend on it," she added.

Sirius suppressed a sigh which juddered deep in his breast. "I'm afraid it's impossible," he said as calmly and patiently as he could. "After all, I am still wanted by the Dementors, and my presence at this school must not be known by anyone except the members of Dumbledore's secret order. Not even Remus is supposed to be seen here. If I taught at this school, the students would undoubtedly recognize me and tell their parents that I am here. Fudge would have no choice than to oppose Dumbledore, maybe even to attack Hogwarts if Dumbledore refuses to surrender me to the Dementors."

"Well, you are innocent, and there has to be a way to prove this," Varlerta said, adopting the impatience in his voice. "Let's all give this task another thought. It is only unachievable if we give up on it."

Sirius knew that he should take her wish to have him cleared as a sign of affection, but could not help feeling an irrational anger rise in him. Merlin's beard, that witch had some nerve! He had spent the last three years wondering how he could be officially cleared, and Dumbledore had certainly pondered this question in detail as well. The idea that his innocence could finally be proven because Professor Varlerta suddenly took an interest was a bit preposterous, to say the least.

"It would certainly be great if my name could be cleared, but I am afraid this might be a bit difficult," he managed to say in a voice that was only slightly chilly. It took him quite a bit of self-control not to mention a rat called Wormtail, not to mention the fact that Varlerta herself had let Wormtail escape during the last school year. Looking up at her face, he saw her blush and cast her eyes on the floor. He was sure that although he had not actually said that he could not be cleared because she had made a wrong decision, she must have heard his thoughts or read them in his eyes.

"I'm sure there is a way," she murmured darkly and with much less vivacity than before. "I'm going to look for this way, believe me."