Prongs Rides Again

EPILOGUE.

Oh make sense of me, night.
I can see so much from this cold height.
The moon said “Oh darkness, my work is done.”

Dar Williams, “Calling the Moon”

Already the landscape was slowing. Harry kept his eyes out the window as the countryside turned imperceptibly to scrubland, and then he watched as the Hogwarts Express pulled through the outskirts of London, towards King’s Cross. He only half-listened to Ron and Hermione conversing next to him: he was thinking about other things.

This is the year my life will begin. For the first time, he had a home and a father to return to from school. Never again did he have to come within twenty miles of the Dursleys. He would never be cut off from the magical world again.

Ron’s outburst interrupted his thoughts momentarily. “I don’t believe it!” he exclaimed with obvious exasperation. “You just get done with your O.W.L.s and now you’re on about N.E.W.T.s? Don’t you ever stop?”

Hermione gave a huffy, indignant reply. “Well, it’s never too early to start.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Honestly,” he sighed. Harry smiled at his ironic use of Hermione’s catchphrase, and then turned back to the window.

“King’s Cross Station, Platform 9¾, ten minutes to arrival,” a chipper, disembodied voice announced.

The three new sixth-years stood and engaged in the ritual of switching their robes for regular clothes. “So, d’you think you’ll be coming to the Burrow at all over the holidays, Harry?”

“I’m not sure -- we might visit, but maybe not like we used to.” He grinned. “But maybe for once I can host you guys at my house.”

“Have you seen it yet?” Hermione asked.

“No, not yet -- we’re going tonight, as soon as my dad and Sirius get some business at the Ministry done.”

“What kind of business? Or am I not supposed to ask?”

Harry shrugged. “Dunno. S’pose I’ll find out soon though, won’t I.”

The Hogwarts Express shuddered to a stop, and Harry shivered in his seat with excitement. Disembarking from the train seemed to take ages this year -- probably because he wasn’t dreading who he would be meeting at the other side of the barrier. He, Ron, and Hermione collected their luggage and waited in line together to leave the platform. “What do you know,” Ron said suddenly. “This is the first year we haven’t been harassed by Malfoy and his crew.”

“Malfoy’s been a lot different since Halloween,” Harry mused. “I mean, he’s hardly been himself for ages. Didn’t rat on us once in Snape’s class all year.”

Ron raised his eyebrows. “I don’t know whether to be relieved or worried.”

“You’re up,” the platform guard wheezed, and nodded toward the brick wall in front of them. The trio crossed the threshold and entered Muggle London.

Harry spotted Sirius and his dad immediately. James Potter was looking quite comfortable in jeans and a Man U jersey, while Sirius seemed very proud of his “My Grandma Went to New York And All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt” top. Ron and Hermione laughed, said their goodbyes, and then vanished into the crowd.

Harry raced over to where his dad and Sirius stood. He was swept up in hugs as soon as he reached them. After a few moments, James looked at his son and said, “Ready to go?” Harry nodded.

“On to the car park!” Sirius declared, and headed toward the exit.

“You got a car?” Harry asked, surprised. “How... how do you know how to drive?”

James shrugged. “We don’t. But there’s a Portkey to the Ministry on the third floor janitor’s closet.” He glanced down at his watch. “Think we’d better hurry if we don’t want to miss the 11:52.”

“What are we doing at the Ministry?” Harry asked as he trotted alongside his father. “Where are we going?”

“A hearing,” James answered simply, and would say no more.

* * *

Remus Lupin had been sitting alone in the sequestered room for more than an hour now. He did not mind the wait: the quiet and the solitude was a welcome relief to the months he’d endured ever since waking.

Early in January he had stirred from his coma for the first time. By the end of the month he was sitting upright and eating solid food again, though he could not talk much. The doctors had been very wary of him until he spoke in mid-February: they had been reluctant to come near him, and to touch him, or make sudden movements. But once he began intelligible speech, they relaxed, and indeed became much friendlier. The downside, however, was that they grew curious. They had subjected him to dozens upon dozens of tests and experiments, trying to decipher the mystery of his condition. Or lack thereof -- for, much to his astonishment, Remus had not yet changed upon the full moon. The doctors and researchers had not yet given him a verdict: in a cruel twist of bureaucracy, he was to learn his fate today at the hearing, after all the information gathered had been presented to the Department.

He had been allowed no visitors during his convalescence at St. Mungo’s, though if his friends had come, he would have had nothing particularly cheering to discuss with them. Things were much different for him upon waking: the world was now a muted palette of sepia tones; foods tasted blander; his sense of hearing was much duller; and he could not feel things as well as he used to. But, he often told himself, I am alive, and I am grateful for that much.

Somewhere, a door to the courtroom opened, and Remus heard “--he has been damaged--” before the voice of the testifier died away. The door in front of him swung inward, and a Ministry official stood before him. The young man took a slightly anxious breath. “They’re ready for you now.” He paused, and examined Remus as he sat there. “Do you... would you like me to help you up?”

Remus reached for his cane, and watched it wobble as he set a little weight on it. He looked up at the officer. “That would be very kind of you,” he said, still inwardly marveling that he, once a terror of the halls of Hogwarts, would need help getting to his feet at such a young age. The man hurried over, and gently put his hands beneath Remus’s arms. He held him steady for a moment as he found his feet.

“Are you alright, sir? Are you ready to go?”

Remus nodded, and the young man, one hand still under his arm, reached forward and pushed open the door.

The pair of them walked through the solemn corridors silently, each one looking only straight ahead. After a short distance, they reached the door to the courtroom. The Ministry official tapped the handle with his wand, and the door swung slowly out.

The faces of the crowd were all blurred and nameless: they exchanged stares with him as he paused on the threshold, shaking. Then he set one foot forward, and then the other, and soon with the help of the young man at his arm, he reached a chair in the middle of the floor. He did not take it, preferring to stand despite his weakness. The officer hesitated for a second, and then remained with him, giving him support.

Phineas St. Clair, Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, leaned heavily on his elbows from his perch behind the judge’s bench. “Mr. Remus Lupin, I have considered the evidence brought forward in your case, and have reached a decision. Have you anything to say before my remarks?”

His gaze wandered through the crowd, searching out friendly faces. Everyone looked decidedly tense and unassuring. He took a deep breath, his eyes still elsewhere. “I don’t really think so,” he said. “I am mostly ready for an answer. I miss my friends and I miss my cottage in Yorkshire. If I learn that I am to be kept from them, then I should rather know sooner than later. And if not, I am eager to return to them, for I have not seen them for more than half a year.” Somewhere in the crowd, a witch gave a choked, strangled sob. Remus frowned slightly: that did not bode well for him.

St. Clair blinked pensively at Remus; the grip of the Ministry official tightened slightly around his arm. Remus swallowed, and met St. Clair’s eye. He waited, breathing calmly and evenly.

“Then, let it be known, Remus Lupin, that I have weighed the evidence as it speaks to me,” the judge declared. “And I have found satisfactory proof that the condition of lycanthropy has left you. I hereby order that your name be stricken from the Werewolf Registry. Remus Lupin, you are free to go.”

The courtroom suddenly burst into cheers, and all at once, the faces became distinct and namable. There was Dumbledore, and McGonagall, and Flitwick, and even Snape! And there -- Alastor Moody, and there, Bill Weasley and Viktor Krum! And --

He did not see them among the faces. James, Sirius, and Harry had rushed out of their seats and invaded the floor; they were hugging him, speaking to him, crying with him, right there. “This hearing is over!” St. Clair bellowed over the racket. “This court is dismissed!”

“C’mon, Moony, we’ve got a reservation at the Delight of Delphi! Greek -- your favorite!” Sirius exclaimed.

Remus laughed haltingly, still almost too surprised to speak. “Moony? Are you sure you can still call me that?”

James grinned through his tears. “Who cares? Does that mean you’ll go?”

Remus began gasping between laughs. “After what they’ve been feeding me at the hospital? I couldn’t Apparate faster!”

Swarms of well-wishers began thronging the floor. Severus Snape appeared briefly in front of them. He stared at the four, his face closed and neutral. No one moved. Finally, he gave a nod of his head, and stuck his hand out. “I’m very happy for you,” he said curtly.

Remus watched Severus for a moment, and then took his hand. “Thank you,” he said, and beamed.

* * *

“If I can just run in before we go -- Harry’s bags are still in a cloakroom.”

The four of them paused on the sidewalk in front of an unobtrusive Ministry office. The afternoon shadows were growing long, and a pleasant breeze was blowing through the street. “D’you want any help, Dad?” Harry asked.

James feigned indignance. “I think I can handle a simple Levitation Charm, thank you very much.”

As though struck by a sudden inspiration, Sirius leaped up on the steps leading into the building. “I think I’ll go too. I have a small matter I wish to attend to in the Animagus Office.”

Remus raised his eyebrows, surprised. “What’s this? Padfoot, going legitimate?”

Sirius tried to look innocent, though a devious glint in his eye betrayed him. “Well, at least one of us ought to be on some sort of list in London. There’s got to be some equilibrium here! You’ve just been taken off one, so I thought I might as well take your place.”

James studied the mad look on his friend’s face. “Sirius... what are you planning to do?”

He held up his hands. “Nothing! Absolutely nothing! Why do you always round on me like that?” He suddenly focused on James. “Hey, d’you want to come with me? We could get two for the price of one visit, you know...”

To everyone’s surprise, he shook his head. “No, Padfoot. I think we’ve seen the last of Mr. Prongs.”

Sirius frowned, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

James looked down at his son, a strange expression on his face. Harry met his gaze curiously. “I doubt I can do the Animagus transformation again,” he said slowly. “And besides, even if I can, I don’t think I’d like to waste any time outside this shape.”

They were all silent for a moment, and then Sirius grinned. “Alright.” He looked around. “Anybody want to come with me? There may be some havoc to be wreaked within.” Without waiting for an answer, he bounded inside. James, Remus, and Harry exchanged glances. Then, at smiles from the two older men, Harry gave a yell and dashed off behind him.

James and Remus stood on a sidewalk, watching the doors swing wildly in Harry’s wake. They both seemed lost in thought. Then, Remus checked his watch and said, “Well, it’s been about a minute -- things should be livening up in there right now.”

James looked at him. “Then shall we hence?”

Remus nodded. “I think so.”

James took Remus’s arm and began helping him up the stairs. Harry came back and poked his head through the door.

“Come quick, Dad, you won’t believe what he’s doing!”

“Tell me if I’m wrong,” Remus mused, “but I have a distinct feeling of déjà vu. The force of chaos, personified by one Sirius Black, unleashed on an unsuspecting public. When has this happened before?”

James saw ten thousand such incidents flash before his eyes, and he laughed as he held the door open. “I’ve got it,” he grinned, and walked inside.

~ * ~