Dog Star Rising

Dog Star Rising

Author's Notes: The idea and formula for invoking the Mapmakers' identification code are borrowed from Oblivious. Thanks to author Jess Pallas for kindly granting permission.

Chapter Two

"Harry, I should have warned you years ago about trying to duel with Remus," the newcomer continued coolly. "The last time I saw that particular look in his eye was about two seconds before he blasted me halfway across our dormitory, and I don't know what might have happened next if your father hadn't got between us. The difference, Moony, is that on that occasion I deserved it. Harry doesn't."

Despite their shock, both Ron and Hermione were on their feet by now and had their wands pointed at the intruder.

Turning to them, the man in the doorway slowly raised both hands above his head like a Muggle boy playing "stick-em-up". "Ron, Hermione," he said calmly, "I know that you don't trust me right now and that of course you'll need to verify my identity. Let's try to do that without anyone getting hurt, shall we? Ron, I will let you disarm me, and Hermione, if you feel it's necessary, you may tie me up, but before any of you start slinging Curses in my direction, will someone please check the Map?"

"Harry, do you have the Map with you?" Remus asked, not taking his eyes off the man in the doorway.

Harry, who had been standing frozen ever since he lost his wand, blinked and replied, "Yes, it's in my pocket."

As Harry brought out the Map, the intruder said crisply, "Excellent. Ron, do you want to use a Disarming Charm, or shall I just toss these to you?"

Ron's cheeks flushed slightly, but his voice remained firm as he pronounced, "Expelliarmus!" As three wands--Harry's, Remus's, and the stranger's--flew into Ron's hand, ropes shot out from the tip of Hermione's wand and bound the stranger tightly. He fell to the floor, and lay there looking up expectantly at Harry.

Harry snatched his wand from Ron, and hurriedly used it to invoke the Marauder's Map. He stared at it for some seconds in amazement before pronouncing, "Sirius Black!"

"But," exclaimed Hermione, "Didn't you tell us once, Professor, that the Map never lies?"

"It doesn't," replied Remus, without taking his eyes or his wand away from the man on the floor. "But I'm going to need further proof, I'm afraid. The real Sirius would remember the mapmakers' individualized security code."

Their captive locked eyes with Remus. In a formal, ritualistic tone, he slowly and distinctly said, "Moony, I am Padfoot. Do you know me?"

In the same deliberate fashion, Remus answered, "Mr. Moony greets his would-be colleague, and respectfully requests that he prove it." From the corner of his eye, Harry caught the flicker of movement on the parchment in his hand. Writing was appearing on the face of the Map. He held it so that Ron and Hermione could see as well, and the three watched as the ink on the parchment formed a duplicate of Remus's spoken words.

"As you may remember," said the stranger to Remus, "My identification code reflects the opinion I had at the age of fifteen about my family's pure-blood obsession--an opinion that hasn't changed. 'Toujours merde!'" he pronounced defiantly.

Harry's hand was shaking now as he watched new words appear on the parchment: "Mr. Prongs greets Mr. Padfoot, and asks what it is that he wants." He held the Map out wordlessly for Remus to see. Remus slowly sank back into his chair, but did not yet lower his wand.

"You'll find I know all my Marauder lore," said their uninvited guest. "But of course, so would Peter. The day that filthy little rodent is able to fool the Map will be the day I willingly snog the giant squid, but perhaps to be on the safe side, you three should ask me some things Pettigrew wouldn't know."

He turned his eyes toward Ron, who cleared his throat before asking, "What's the name of your pet thestral?"

"Trick question, Ron," the man answered. "I don't own a thestral, but the name of the hippogriff that Harry and Hermione gave me is 'Buckbeak'."

Hermione stepped forward next. "When you were in your animagus form during our fourth year, what's the code name that you asked us to use for you?"

"Excellent, Hermione. I doubt that I'd ever admit to anyone--even a Death Eater under torture--that I once encouraged the three of you to refer to me as 'Snuffles'." He turned his gaze to the only remaining person in the room. "All right, Harry...something only you and I would know..."

Harry knelt on the floor beside him, pointing his wand straight between the man's eyes. "When you said goodbye to me after that last holiday we spent together," he said, "You gave me a present."

"Yes," came the reply. "It was a two-way mirror, so that you would always have a way to contact me. You only tried to use it once that I am aware of--it was about a week after the battle at the Ministry. I heard your voice calling me from my mirror, and Harry, I had to be physically restrained from answering you. Then the mirror shattered, and I assumed that you had broken the one on your end."

Harry's wand dropped to the floor. "You heard me calling," he said. "You heard me that day, and you didn't answer?" He drew back his right arm and aimed his fist at the face of the helpless man before him.

The grey eyes of the man on the floor never left Harry's green ones. He made no attempt to flinch away from the blow.

But it never came. After a few frozen seconds, Harry lowered his arm and stood up, retrieving his wand from the floor. Turning his back and staring resolutely into the empty tank in the far corner, he said, "You may as well untie him, Hermione."

The cords abruptly vanished, and Sirius Black pulled himself into a sitting position. Remus warily took his outstretched hand and helped him to his feet. Ron moved forward to return his wand. Hermione glanced uncertainly at Harry, who kept his back turned to them all. For a moment, no one spoke. It was Sirius who broke the silence.

"I know that I owe you all an explanation, and I want to tell you my whole story." Glancing at Remus for permission, he Summoned an armchair from a corner near the bookshelves, placed it next to the wooden chairs in the semicircle in front of the desk, and sat down. The others followed suit. Even Harry at last resumed his place in the chair nearest to Sirius, though his gaze was directed onto the floor, Remus's desk--anywhere but at his godfather.

"In a nutshell," Sirius began, "I have been working toward the same goal for the last year that you have, Harry."

This immediately captured Harry's attention, and he turned toward Sirius in surprise.

"First, I have to know," Sirius continued, "Were you and Dumbledore successful on that final night? Did you find the locket?"

Hermione and Ron both let out exclamations of surprise. Remus looked baffled.

"We found it," said Harry bitterly, "But it was a fake. The real one is still missing."

"Not anymore," said Sirius. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a heavy gold locket on a chain and set it on Remus's desk in front of Harry. An ornate letter "S" was inscribed on the locket's front.

"No way!" exclaimed Ron, pulling back his chair as though the locket might be poisonous.

"In the one you recovered," Sirius went on, "Was there a note?"

Hermione gasped. "Of course! The signature! R.A.B.!"

"Yes," Sirius nodded. "My brother, Regulus Alphard Black."

Comprehension was dawning on Harry's face as well. Ron was still staring in terror at the locket. "Is that--the real Horcrux?" he asked.

"Horcrux!?!" exclaimed Remus.

"Yes, Ron, I'm sure of it," Sirius replied. "That's the one that my brother stole from Voldemort fifteen years ago, not long before I was sent to Azkaban."

"Excuse me," Remus interrupted. "Sirius Black, are you telling me that not only have you come back from the dead, but you have just deposited a piece of Lord Voldemort's soul on my desk?"

Sirius nodded.

Remus sank back into his chair. Looking from Sirius to Harry and back, he observed, "Well, obviously I have been kept in the dark about a good many things." His tone was matter-of-fact, but there was a look of hurt in his eyes.

Sirius leaned forward intently. "Moony, I trust you with my life--my coming here tonight should prove that. Once, years ago, I made the mistake of doubting you, and I paid dearly for it. I won't ever make that mistake again. But you've heard enough now to understand that Harry meant every word when he told you you were better off being kept in the dark. Knowing this secret will put your life in grave danger. I came to you because I had no choice. I needed your help, and I had absolute faith that you'd be ready to give it, but I will be eternally sorry for placing this burden on your shoulders."

Remus cocked an eyebrow at him. "It seems we have a great deal to talk about. Shall we continue this over supper? Molly made breakfast for me at 12 Grimmauld Place this morning, but I was too worried about these three to feel like eating, and I haven't had a bite since."

"Moony, I thought you'd never ask! I've been living on rats and out of rubbish bins again the last few weeks, and since early last night, I've been lying hungrily under your bed in canine form waiting for you to come home."

"Then by all means, let's find something to eat, although I suppose it will be better not to alert the entire kitchen staff about this meeting."

"I know!" Harry exclaimed. "I'll call Dobby! He can arrange it for us--unless you'd prefer I called Kreacher," he added, glancing at Sirius.

"Definitely not!" Sirius snorted. "That's one reunion I'll be glad to put off for as long as possible."

"All right, then," Remus decided. "Harry, why don't you send for Dobby--but first, Sirius, do you want to step into the other room again? If you are intending to stay dead for the time being, it will help if even the elf doesn't see you."

Sirius nodded. As his old friend left the office, Remus swept the locket off of the desk top and into a drawer, which he locked. Then he nodded at Harry. The moment Harry spoke Dobby's name, the house-elf appeared with a loud pop, announcing, "Harry Potter, sir, Dobby is so glad to see you! Dobby was not expecting you back at school for another month."

"Dobby," Harry began, "I have another important task for you. Professor Lupin wishes to order supper here in his rooms for himself and four guests--"

"Exceptionally hungry guests, I might add," put in Remus.

"--But it's extremely important that you tell no one who his guests are. Can you keep this a secret for us, Dobby--even from the other elves?"

"Of course, Harry Potter!" Dobby was practically dancing in place with excitement. "Dobby will send supper up immediately, sir, and he promises never, never to reveal Harry Potter's secrets! Dobby would die before he betrayed the great Harry Potter!"

"Thank you, Dobby!" Harry replied. "You have always been a true friend."

Squeaking in ecstasy at being called a friend by the great Harry Potter, Dobby vanished.

"That's a potentially very useful ally you have there, Harry," remarked Sirius as he came back into the room.

"Yeah. I used him and Kreacher both last year to help me find out what Malfoy was up to," Harry said. "Pity I wasn't ever able to completely figure it out, but Dobby and Kreacher were great--when they weren't trying to kill each other, that is."

"I'm not the only one with a story to tell," said Sirius. "I want to hear everything that's been happening to you this last year, and you can fill in all the bits Remus doesn't know at the same time. Why don't I go first, though? You all deserve to know where I've been and why I've let you believe I was dead all this time."

"Look," said Hermione, pointing. The small table that Remus had taken the chairs from when they first arrived in the office was being transfigured, stretching until it was large enough to seat all five of them comfortably. On top of it there appeared five place settings, followed by two brimming pitchers of pumpkin juice, a huge platter of sandwiches and a smaller plate containing pickles and generous wedges of cheese.

Everyone brought a chair to the table, and they all dug in. Sirius wolfed down his first sandwich in what seemed like four or five bites, then chased it with two glasses of pumpkin juice. Reaching for a second sandwich, and some pickles and cheese, he began to tell his story between mouthfuls.