Harry Potter and the Forbidden Passage

Chapter 11: A New Portrait

Harry stared at the portrait. Sirius looked very handsome, not all that dissimilar from his appearance in Snape's memory. His black hair fell gracefully around his face. His eyes were bright with laughter and youth, they bore none of the hardship and sorrow Harry had grown accustomed to seeing in his godfather's gaze. He looked happier than Harry had ever seen his godfather when he was alive. This was not the haunted visage of a man who had spent twelve long years in Azkaban.

"James?" Sirius asked again from the portrait.

Harry took a step backwards and tripped. He collapsed into an old armchair behind him. He sat unmoving, yet stared with shock at the portrait, hardly able to comprehend what he was seeing. The air was suddenly thick and suffocating, breathing became difficult. He couldn't speak, it took all of his strength just to stay conscious.

"You all right, mate?" Sirius asked with confusion. "What's wrong with him?" he asked Ginny. "And who are you? Are you related to Evans?" he asked, eyeing her red hair.

Ginny also looked shocked but she seemed to be handling the surprise much better.

"No…I'm Ginny," she explained, "and this is Harry. He's James's son."

Sirius laughed loudly. "Ha! Good one. As if you could ever be a father, Prongs!" Sirius joked as he turned his attention back to Harry.

"Sirius," Ginny said delicately, kneeling down in front of the portrait, "you don't understand. The year is 1996, you've been up here for many years."

Sirius looked confused for a moment and then burst out laughing. "Nice prank, Prongs. So where are Remus and Peter hiding?"

Harry and Ginny shared a worried glance.

"They're not here, Sirius," Ginny said gently, still looking at Harry, "but Professor Lupin will be returning in two days."

"Professor?" Sirius laughed. "Now you're stretching it a bit, don't you think? Remus could never be a professor. He's not even all that good at transfiguration."

"No, really, he taught Defense Against the Dark Arts," Ginny explained. "He was a wonderful teacher."

Sirius raised one eyebrow in confusion. Then he looked at Ginny and flashed a brilliant smile.

"Ginny, was it? Listen, no offense or anything, but you could learn a lesson or two about timing when it comes to pranks. The key is to know when to give up a joke. I'm sure my corporeal self would be happy to give you private lessons in pranking," Sirius said devilishly and winked at Ginny.

Ginny blushed and her jaw dropped slightly in surprise.

It took Harry several seconds before Sirius's words penetrated and he understood what was going on. Had he just heard and seen what he thought he did? True, the Sirius in the portrait thought he was fifteen, but this was so strange and felt so, well…wrong. Harry felt the need to step in as Ginny was now the one stunned into silence.

"She's telling the truth," Harry said quietly, still shocked by the portrait's behavior.

Sirius groaned, "Not you too, Prongs! Come now, where's Moony really? I need to talk to someone with some sense."

"It's the full moon. He's transforming," Harry answered simply.

"Prongs!" Sirius yelled angrily. "What are you doing?" He lowered his voice to a whisper, "You can't talk about that in front of her." He nodded his head toward Ginny.

Harry looked at the portrait in bewilderment. "She knows he's a werewolf and I am NOT James!" he said with exasperation. As much as he had wished for his godfather to come back to him, this was not what he would have expected.

Sirius looked like he was about to protest again, but Harry put a hand out to silence him.

"Wait," Harry said, "I can prove it to you. I'll be right back." He ran down the stairs two at a time, barely missing some of the large cracks in the damaged floorboards. Flinging open the door, he saw the sleeping form of Mundungus Fletcher, who was stretched out in a chair next to the attic door. Harry rolled his eyes as Mundungus let out a huge snore. He crept by quietly and hurried on.

By the time Harry reached his bedroom, he no longer thought about the noise he was making and threw open the door which slammed loudly against the wall. He went directly to the wall and removed the photographs of his parents' wedding and the one with Sirius holding him as a baby. He turned, prepared to hurry back to the attic when he bumped directly into Hermione, who was standing in the door frame.

"Harry?" she asked. "What are you doing?" She looked at him with concern.

Ron came up behind her. "Oh, Harry, you're back," he said somewhat roughly. He smiled it seemed with difficulty. "Good. Well…er…where's Ginny? Mum wanted me to tell everyone that supper will be ready in five minutes. And we have to be on time since there's going to be a meeting afterwards."

Harry looked at them both briefly, slightly puzzled, and pushed past them. "I don't have time for this," he said abruptly. He felt annoyed. Who cared about mundane things like supper when he had just found something so important? He climbed swiftly up the staircase back to the attic. Ron and Hermione followed.

"Wait, Harry!" Hermione called breathlessly. "What's going on?"

Harry questioned briefly whether he should tell them or not. But Ginny already knew, so did it really matter? What harm could possibly come of it? "We found Sirius's portrait," Harry yelled back down to them as he climbed the stairs.

Hermione let out a sharp gasp behind him. "What?" she asked in astonishment.

"A portrait? Of Sirius?" Ron repeated incredulously.

"Yes!" Harry said impatiently.

They had reached the upper floor. Mundungus was still stretched out on a chair in front of the black attic door. His head was tilted back, resting against the wall, and his mouth was slightly open. He was snoring loudly and showed no signs of waking.

Harry turned around and signaled for Ron and Hermione to follow him quietly. They tiptoed past Mundungus and Harry opened the attic door. The door creaked slightly and Harry glanced worriedly at Mundungus. After reassuring himself that Mundungus was still sound asleep, Harry motioned for Ron and Hermione to go in and he followed them, closing the door behind him as quietly as he could manage.

When they were halfway up the staircase, Hermione said, "Harry, you can't really be seri-," she paused as she looked over to where Ginny was kneeling beside the portrait, "Oh my…Sirius…"

"I don't believe it…" Ron whispered as he stood beside Hermione.

Sirius was looking back at them equally perplexed. "And you are?" he asked.

"Sirius," Ginny said, "this is Hermione and my brother, Ron."

"He doesn't know us?" Ron asked in confusion.

Ginny stood with her back to the portrait and whispered, "He thinks he's fifteen. There is no memory of any of us. He even thought Harry was James Potter. Be careful what you say. And be prepared, Hermione, because he's…well…he's a little flirtatious," she said, blushing.

She turned to Harry, "Did you bring the proof?"

"Yeah," he answered, showing her the framed photographs.

"I think those will work," Ginny said.

Harry looked down at the portrait, not sure of how to proceed. Should he show him the pictures first or try to explain? Sirius seemed to be looking at them all with curiosity.

"None of you go to Hogwarts, do you? You're certainly not Gryffindors at least," Sirius said somewhat disparagingly. "You're not Slytherins, are you?"

"NO!" Ron exclaimed with disgust. "We're all in Gryffindor."

"Impossible. I would certainly remember any girls in my own house as lovely as the two of you," Sirius replied, turning his gaze a little too directly to Hermione and Ginny.

"Hey!" Ron said angrily.

"Oh sorry, is she with you?" Sirius asked Ron apologetically.

"Well, no…but…but that's beside the point," Ron said, blushing. "You're old enough to be her father!"

Sirius laughed heartily. "How do you possibly see that happening? I'm only fifteen and she looks about the same."

"But you're not, Sirius," Harry said. He knelt down before the portrait, so that he was eye level with Sirius's face. "It's 1996, you would be old enough to be her father."

"Prongs? What are you on about?" Sirius asked with concern as though he were questioning Harry's sanity.

Harry sighed, he was obviously getting nowhere. "I am not Prongs. My name is Harry Potter, my father was James. Look, my eyes are different than his and my nose is smaller. And I've had this scar since I was a year old," he explained, pushing the hair back from his forehead to reveal the permanent scar that Voldemort had created so long ago. Sirius looked confused, but still disbelieving.

"Here, look at this," Harry said as he held up one of the photographs. "This picture was taken at my parents' wedding. See, there you are and Remus." He avoided mentioning the burnt out hole that was Peter Pettigrew. He held up the second photograph. "And here's a picture of you holding me when I was a baby. You had just been named as my godfather."

"Hold on a moment," Sirius said, "James married Lily Evans?! But…but she hates him!"

"Well, that changed a bit," Harry replied indignantly.

Sirius looked intently at Harry. "Green eyes…Lily's eyes…You really are their son, aren't you?"

"Yes!" Harry said earnestly. Finally, he was beginning to understand. But Harry could not have prepared himself for Sirius's next question.

"All right, I believe you," Sirius said sincerely. "So, where are Lily and James? And where is my corporeal self?"

Harry was stunned. He felt like he had been smacked across the face.

"You're…they're de-"

"They're departing," Hermione said quickly, sitting down beside Harry, "for…for a mission overseas." Harry shot her a questioning look, but she returned it with an expression that told him not to say a word. "They're Aurors, so it's all quite secretive."

Sirius started to talk with excitement about the idea that his future self had become an Auror, but Harry's focus was on Hermione now. Why had she lied to him? Wasn't it better for him to know the truth?

His thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Weasley's voice calling up the stairs. Harry looked at the portrait and panicked. He didn't want anyone else to find out about the portrait yet, although he wasn't quite sure why. Picking up a white sheet that had covered an old mirror, Harry threw it over the portrait, causing a small gasp of protest from Sirius.

"Don't say a word," Harry whispered to the rest of them.

"Ronald Weasley!" she called angrily. "I asked you to call everyone down to supper several minutes ago. We don't have all night. The other Order members will be arriving shortly. And now you've forced me to interrupt everything to climb several flights of stairs looking for all of you," she panted as she reached the attic floor.

"What are all of you doing up here anyways? Ginny, Harry, I'm surprised you didn't come down hours ago," Mrs. Weasley admonished as she surveyed the room. She walked toward the portrait.

Harry's eyes followed her movements anxiously. He breathed a sigh of relief when she reached out above the portrait to the wall sconce.

"Look at these candles, they're almost out," she said. "Well, I'll ask Arthur to see what he can do about creating some lighting in here tomorrow morning. Come along, then, all of you. There's no time for dawdling."

They all followed her silently down the stairs. Harry went reluctantly, looking back at the portrait as he went.

Supper was a very hurried affair, not only because of the impending meeting but because Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione had so much more on their minds that they ate as quickly as possible and did not speak during the meal.

Harry was anxious to get back to the portrait. He had to make sure that it wasn't a dream. It was too wonderful to be real, Sirius was alive again. It may not have been the way he had imagined, but never the less, it was him. He could talk to Sirius again. He would find out things about his parents, he would have someone to confide in, he would have his godfather back.

As soon as Harry felt he could leave, he did. But he wasn't alone, Hermione caught up with him in front of his bedroom door.

"Harry, could we talk?"

"Now?" he asked wearily.

"Yes, Harry. Please?"

He sighed in annoyance. "Fine, let's go in my room." What on earth did she want to talk to him about? And why now of all times? She knew what was up there, what was waiting for him in the attic.

Harry sat on the bed and watched as Hermione paced the floor in front of him. She was not quite willing to sit and look at him directly. She looked disturbed, like she had something difficult to say but didn't know how to say it. An unwelcome thought occurred to him.

"This doesn't have to do with what happened last night at the Ministry, does it?" he asked warily.

Hermione paused in her pacing but remained silent.

"Because if it does," Harry continued, "I don't-"

"No, it's not that," Hermione interrupted. "But I do want to discuss that when you're ready. And I hope you'll open up about a few other things as well. That's not what I want to discuss now though." She paused and looked away.

"Harry, I need to talk to you about the portrait and I don't think you'll like what I have to say," Hermione said, casting her eyes determinedly away as she stood before him. "Harry, I don't think it's wise for you to interact with that portrait anymore, not yet at least."

"What? Why?" Harry asked, aghast.

Hermione sighed. "What are you going to do the next time he wants to know about your parents or himself? Harry, you can't tell him that they died. Did you truly see him, Harry? He's young and happy. He has never experienced the kind of loss that you have or that Sirius had. And he doesn't deserve to have that knowledge thrust upon him. It could destroy him."

"It's just a portrait. How could knowing the truth possibly destroy him?"

"Even portraits have feelings, Harry. It wouldn't be right to tell him what has happened."

Harry looked at Hermione in confusion. "You can't really be suggesting that I should forget about it? That I should just let it go as though it never existed."

"Actually, that's exactly what I'm trying to say."

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "No. NO! I can't let him go again. I can't! How can you even ask me to do that? Do you have any clue how much that portrait means to me? Hermione, that's Sirius up there!"

"That's just it, Harry. It's not Sirius," she said sadly.

"Of course it is. You saw him."

"No, Harry. The boy in that portrait is not the man that you knew. He doesn't even know who you are. And as much as you may want him to be, Harry, he is not your godfather and he never will be. He has never known the hardships that made Sirius the man he was as you knew him. And to tell him the truth about what has happened to himself and his friends would be unspeakably cruel."

"I can't believe you, Hermione. This is ludicrous!" Why was she acting this way? She was his best friend. She should be happy that he had Sirius back again, not telling him that he should never see the portrait again.

"I know how much you miss Sirius," she said sympathetically. "I do too. But that portrait will not replace him. And I don't think it's wise for you to have something like that to help you dwell on him. Having the portrait around won't heal the grief, it will just intensify it. Over time, you would note all of the differences between the portrait and the real Sirius and you would miss him even more."

"No, you're wrong," he said angrily. "Hermione, you can't take this away from me!"

"Harry, I think we should talk to Dumbledore. He'll know what to do. We can do it this evening. If he says that it's fine for you to keep the portrait, then I will agree and I won't say anything more about it."

"It's not up to you or Dumbledore what I do with the portrait!" Harry said angrily.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione whispered as she walked out and closed the door behind her. He heard her quick footsteps as she went down the stairs. Harry immediately jumped up, flung the door open, and raced after her.

"Wait, Hermione. DON"T!" he screamed after her.

It was too late. She had already knocked on the door and interrupted the meeting. The door opened and Professor Snape appeared.

"Potter, Granger, what is the meaning of this?"

"I need to speak to Professor Dumbledore, sir," Hermione said urgently.

"We are in the middle of an important meeting, Miss Granger, and the headmaster is a very busy man. Whatever you would like to say will have to wait," he snapped in reply. Snape began to close the door in her face, but a voice behind him called out.

"Wait, Severus," Dumbledore said as he emerged from the doorway. "We have only just begun the meeting and I am aware of everyone's reports. So while the rest of you give your updates, I will have some time available to speak with Miss Granger. I daresay she wouldn't have interrupted us for something of no importance."

"Very well," Snape replied, glaring at Hermione.

Dumbledore closed the door behind him and his eyes alit on Harry. "Ah, Mr. Potter, so good to see you up and about with your friends. I hope you are feeling better today?"

"Quite," Harry replied through clenched teeth, trying to control his anger at Hermione.

Dumbledore looked at him for a moment with intensity before speaking. "Now, Hermione, what is it you wanted to tell me? I assume Harry is involved."

"Yes, well…" Hermione looked nervously to Harry who was staring at her threateningly. She looked away. "Well, sir, Harry and Ginny found a portrait of Sirius today in the attic. Only he's just a teenager in the portrait, only slightly younger than us."

"Ah, this is a curious development." Dumbledore smiled and his eyes twinkled mysteriously. "Very interesting. Very interesting, indeed." He stroked his beard in thought. "And you say that he is fifteen or so in the portrait?"

"Yes, he said he was fifteen," Hermione answered. "He doesn't recognize Harry or anyone and he doesn't know about anything that's happened since before Harry's parents were married. He thinks he's still attending Hogwarts."

"Hmm, I wonder…" Dumbledore said quietly to himself.

"Professor," Hermione asked cautiously, giving a furtive look to Harry, "could we speak privately for a moment?" Harry shot her a look that could kill as she and Dumbledore retreated into an adjacent room.

A few minutes later, they emerged and Dumbledore approached him. "Harry, I'm afraid I must agree with Hermione on this issue. And I would suggest, at least for the time being, that the portrait should be removed from the premises. However, I would not take it without your permission."

Harry looked at Dumbledore incredulously and shook his head. Of course he would say no. Dumbledore knew very well how he felt, Hermione must surely have told him. What was he playing at?

"Harry, please hear me out," the headmaster said cautiously. "I believe that this portrait may be able to help us in the fight against Voldemort."

Harry interjected, "How can a portrait-?"

Dumbledore waved a hand to silence him. "Sirius worked privately on a secret project for the Order of the Phoenix, which was unbeknownst to any of us. In fact, it was only revealed to me after his death. But, alas, the project was unfinished and I'm hoping that this portrait of Sirius may have the knowledge to complete it."

"But," Harry said, "we told you, he doesn't remember anything for the last twenty or so years."

"That may not matter," Dumbledore replied. "According to Professor Lupin, this project is linked to something that Sirius and your father worked on while they were attending Hogwarts. Now, Harry, may I have your permission to take the portrait back with me to Hogwarts? You will, naturally, be allowed to visit it in my office whenever you like."

Hermione and Dumbledore both looked expectantly at Harry, waiting for his answer.

Harry was confused. He didn't want to give up the portrait, of that he was certain. There was nothing he had wanted more in the world than to have Sirius back and now he was, in a way. But then again, how could he say no? If the portrait was to aid the Order, how could he deny Dumbledore's request?

Harry's thoughts strayed back to Sirius. He imagined his godfather sitting in the kitchen, working by the light of the fire late into the night on this mysterious project. Despite having been locked up in this house, Sirius had tried to find some way to be helpful. And if Harry did not release the portrait, Sirius's last efforts may have all been for naught. There was no question what his answer had to be, as much as it pained him.

"All right," Harry said, defeated, "you can take the portrait." Dumbledore looked proudly down at him. "Only," Harry added, "could you just leave it for a couple of days? Give me a little time."

"Certainly," Dumbledore said, nodding his head with understanding. "Thank you, Harry. I know that was a difficult decision to make, but I am confident you have chosen well. However, for the moment, I will ask you to heed Hermione's advice and not release information about your parents, Sirius, or the Order. I will advise everyone else to do the same."

After Dumbledore returned to the meeting, Hermione turned to Harry with a hopeful smile and said cautiously, "See, it was a good thing we told him about the portrait, right? If it can help the Order…"

Harry glared icily at her and turned his back, leaving her alone in the room as he returned upstairs. It wasn't that he disagreed with her entirely. After all, he had made the conscious decision to give up the portrait. But he was still upset that she had gone against his wishes and involved herself where she had no right to do so. It was difficult for him to believe that she would ever stop interfering in his life.

Becoming even angrier the more he thought about it, Harry stormed through the portrait hall. He glanced at the empty brick wall Sirius had erected over his mother's portrait and stopped abruptly. He stared at the empty space and made a decision. Something had to be returned to its rightful place, the place where it should have been hung with pride for the last twenty years. It was time to set things right, if only for a short time.