Dog Star Rising

Dog Star Rising

Chapter Five

Sirius looked with concern from Harry to Remus, then took another gulp of pumpkin juice. "Well," he continued, "with Dumbledore gone, I was left completely alone. I decided the time had come to stop playing games with the Aterwoods, get that locket, and then figure out how best to destroy it and the remaining Horcruxes--by then, of course, Harry, Dumbledore had shared with me the memory you managed to extract from Slughorn."

"How did you get the locket?" Harry asked. "You were alone, with no money--"

"I simply marched up to the front door and demanded it," Sirius replied, with an echo of his old cocky grin.

"But--" spluttered Remus, but Sirius went straight on.

"Yes, of course, they recognized me. Sirius Black: escaped convict, mass murderer, and Voldemort's right-hand man." He chuckled. "I always knew my reputation would come in handy at some point. I told them, quite truthfully, that the Dark Lord urgently required that locket and was prepared to do anything necessary to recover it. I also told them that if they handed it over, there was a chance I might let them live." He shrugged. "It worked perfectly."

Harry and Ron laughed.

"What about the house-elf?" asked Hermione. "Didn't he try to protect his master's property?"

"Of course he did," Sirius replied, "but you remember I told you that Colly is a second cousin of mine? One of those hundreds of connections between old Wizarding families, but in this case, a brilliant coincidence. Perhaps the strongest of the many layers of enchantment binding house-elves to their owners is the one that prevents them from physically harming any member of the family they belong to, ever. The elf fell to the floor unconscious as soon as he tried to attack me. I almost felt sorry for the little fellow. After that, though, I had no trouble with Colly and Drusilla. Before I left, I threatened to pay them another visit if they ever told anyone I'd been there, and so far it appears they haven't--or so I judge from how surprised all of you were to see me."

"None of the Order members who work at the Ministry have heard any rumors about you being alive," Remus confirmed. "Once again, Padfoot, you've slid away scot-free after an incredibly nervy prank."

"Thank you, Moony," Sirius said, with a quick but theatrical bow in his direction. "I confess, I was rather proud of myself, but I also knew I couldn't continue to act alone. Somehow, I was going to have to make contact with Harry." He turned to his godson. "I hoped that perhaps Dumbledore had told you about me before he died, but when a week had gone by, and you had made no attempt to contact me at Mundungus's, I knew you must still think I was dead.

"Thinking how to contact you without drawing unwanted attention was actually harder than retrieving the locket. I didn't know where you'd be spending the summer holiday, but I was sure that wherever you were, the Order would be keeping watch closer than ever. If I'd tried to send a message by owl, there was no way you'd believe it. Finally, I decided that what I needed was information. The best place I could think of to attempt to overhear news about you and the Order was Hogsmeade, so I moved back into the cave I used two years ago, and started spending every evening huddled under the windows of the Three Broomsticks, or sometimes the Hog's Head, disguised as a dog.

"Custom at Rosmerta's has fallen off greatly from what I remember. The only Order member I've seen all summer is Hagrid, and for some reason, he always takes himself to the Hog's Head these days. I followed him every time, but all I heard was him crying into his ale about Dumbledore's death. That was doubly frustrating, because it didn't tell me anything I needed to know, and it also made me wish I could go in and try to comfort him somehow, as he did for me when James and Lily died. Dumbledore was the best friend Hagrid has ever had, I think.

"Finally, just two days ago, I was sniffing through the rubbish bin outside the Three Broomsticks at mid-morning, looking for some breakfast, when I heard voices coming from the bar. One of the kitchen staff was asking Rosmerta why there was a case of mead sitting in the entranceway. I was only half paying attention, since I'd just caught the tantalizing scent of sausages somewhere in the bin, but then Rosmerta said that she had packed the mead to be sent to the wedding at the Burrow. I pricked up my ears, and she added, 'As my gift, mind--it's the least I can do for that poor lad.' The cook protested that no one held Rosmerta responsible for what had happened, but Rosmerta answered that of course they did, why else did she think so few people were coming in lately?

"I was almost afraid to breathe, listening as hard as I could and trying to make some sense of all this, when the cook asked, 'What about that teacher from up at the school who stopped in for lunch yesterday?' I could have kissed Rosmerta when I heard her answer, 'That was Professor Remus Lupin, and a nicer gentleman you won't find anywhere. Taking on the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, he is, and the only man in thirty years brave enough to do that more than once.' She added that you'd be staying at the school for the remainder of the summer. She's hoping, by the way, that you'll stop in frequently, and that you'll tell her all about the wedding next time you do.

"This was perfect for me, of course. Moony, I knew I'd be able to reach you here at Hogwarts, and that you'd be able to put me in touch with Harry, but I also hoped that you'd be willing to use your considerable knowledge and experience to aid us from there. The rest is easily told. It was the morning of the wedding when I learned about your presence here, so I reckoned you'd already be at the Burrow, and might very well stay the night, as Harry's birthday was the next day. I waited another day, then, and last evening, I hid myself on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and waited for nightfall. Getting into the school unseen was no harder than it had been after I escaped from Azkaban, and fortunately for me, you're still using one of your old favorite passwords for your office door. My only real problem was that you failed to come home. I was planning to sneak out again tonight to hunt for some food if you hadn't returned by dark. I was startled when I heard more than one voice coming into the office, but soon realized that somehow, Moony, you'd managed to bring with you the very people I needed most to see.

"And now," he concluded, "I shall be extremely glad to turn the floor over to Harry. I haven't talked this much in months, and I could really use a drink right about--"

The empty plates and glasses abruptly vanished from the table, followed by the serving dishes. Then, with a soft clink, a dozen bottles of butterbeer appeared, flanked by five mugs. "Bloody marvelous!" laughed Sirius. "Dobby, you are a prince among house-elves!" He seized a bottle, opened it, and took a long swallow. Ron and Harry quickly followed suit; only Remus and Hermione bothered to use the mugs that had been provided.

Harry set his bottle down on the table after his first drink, then stood up and paced restlessly around the back of the room, where the brooms and trunks were still sitting. When he returned to the table, he stood gripping the back of his chair, and looked around at his friends. "First of all," he said, "I owe all of you an apology. I should have said this a long time ago, but I just--I don't know--I couldn't bear to talk about it." Four pairs of concerned eyes were staring at him. He swallowed, and looked down at his bottle of butterbeer. "That day at the Ministry--"

Sirius and Hermione both shifted in their chairs and opened their mouths, but Harry doggedly went on. "I made a stupid mistake. All of you warned me not to pay attention to the visions I was having, and I didn't listen to any of you; I walked right into a trap, and all of you ended up risking your lives because of me. I could have got any one of you killed that day." He turned, almost fearfully, to Sirius, and added, "I thought I had." Harry stopped to swallow again, and a tear ran slowly down his cheek. "I never thought I'd have the chance to tell you...how sorry I am..." A hiccuping sob interrupted him, and his knuckles grew white on the back of the chair.

Then Sirius was also on his feet. He took Harry by the shoulders and looked him squarely in the eyes. "Harry, you don't need to apologize to me. What you did that day was out of concern for me, and if any of it needed forgiveness, I've done that long ago. I'm the one who should be offering an apology to you and the others." He glanced around at the three who were still seated, then focused back on Harry. "Allowing you to believe that I was dead was incredibly cruel. Even worse, now, to think that you've been blaming yourself all this time. Harry, I don't even know how to tell you how sorry I am for hurting you that way, but I promise that if you'll still have me as your godfather, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you."

It was impossible to tell which one moved first, but next moment godfather and godson were in each other's arms, and tears were trickling down the faces of both.

After several minutes spent clinging tightly to Sirius, Harry pulled his face away from his godfather's shoulder, smiling mischievously through the last of his tears. "So, does 'making it up to me' mean I can expect tons of astronomically expensive presents at Christmas and birthdays from now on?"

Sirius gaped at him for a few seconds; then an answering twinkle appeared in his eyes. "Well, it would do, Harry, but at the moment, I haven't a Knut to my name--everything I own belongs to you!"

The two of them embraced again, this time laughing like lunatics and clapping each other on the back.

After watching this go on for a short while, Remus stood and cleared his throat. "I take it this apology of yours was offered to the room in general, Padfoot?"

Sirius turned to him and smiled, one arm still wrapped around Harry's shoulders.

"Then I would also like to accept," Remus continued. He, too, was smiling, but a muscle in his cheek was twitching in a strained manner.

Sirius let go of Harry, and in two strides he had reached the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and pulled him into a fervent embrace as well. Though the others were unable to see Remus's face, they heard his voice emerging from somewhere near Sirius's left shoulder, sounding muffled and odd. "Watching you fall...struggling to pull Harry away from the dais...that was one of the worst moments of my life, you know." He drew back a few inches and whacked Sirius hard on the shoulder, but the taller man never moved. Then, his momentary anger seemingly spent, Remus leaned into Sirius's chest once more. "Padfoot, how do you do it? It's twice now you've come back to me when I thought you were gone--"

Sirius bent his head in reply, saying something softly into Remus's ear, but the three teenagers couldn't hear any more. Harry smiled awkwardly at Ron and Hermione. "I really am sorry, you know..."

"Harry, don't be silly," Hermione responded, and Ron gave her a grateful look. "You don't have to say those sorts of things to us. We know how you feel." She stood, reached across the table, and gave Harry's hand a reassuring squeeze.

"And you didn't force us to go with you," Ron added, also standing and placing a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "We wanted to help Sirius--"

All three glanced toward the head of the table at the mention of Sirius's name, and saw that he and Remus had pulled apart and were now watching them. Sirius stepped forward and opened his arms wide. "Ron? Hermione?"

The two of them moved toward him together, and Sirius wrapped one arm around each. Hermione reached up on tiptoe to plant a kiss on Sirius's cheek. "Thank you for coming that day, to save us," she said shyly.

"Well, as you all were there in the first place trying to save me, I'd say that makes us even," Sirius replied, beaming, and gently placed a kiss on top of her head in return.

Ron pulled back from Sirius after giving him a brief clap on the shoulder, and remarked, "Don't let's start that. I reckon if we worked it out, everyone in this room has saved everyone else's life at least once, haven't we?"

Remus looked thoughtful. "You know, Ron, I believe you're right," he answered. "That seems to call for a toast. To friendship?"

The others nodded. Harry, Ron, and Hermione reached for their drinks, and raised them toward Remus's lifted mug. Sirius, caught on the opposite side of the table from his chair, started to make his way behind Harry to return to his place.

As it happened, he was passing by just at the moment his godson raised his bottle, and Sirius stopped, frowned, then abruptly grabbed Harry by the wrist, pulled the butterbeer out of his hand, and set it back on the table. "What the hell is this?" he demanded, staring at the back of Harry's hand. "Moony, have you seen this?"

Sirius laid Harry's right hand flat on the table. Still plainly visible there was the scar reading, "I must not tell lies."

"Never!" Remus answered, sounding shocked. "But I see the two of you have," he added, glancing shrewdly at Ron and Hermione.

With a sigh, Harry sat back down, and the others followed suit. Sirius's eyes continued to flick back and forth from Harry's face to the back of his hand as Harry briefly explained about his detentions with Dolores Umbridge during his fifth year.

By the time he finished, Remus looked ill. "That's horrible!" he exclaimed. "That's illegal! She can't do that to a student..."

Sirius just looked furious. "I've heard of quills like that," he said. "My uncle Alphard once told me about a tutor of his who used to make him write lines with one. But he said that the cuts on his hand always healed within a few seconds, unless...Harry, HOW MANY TIMES did that old hag make you write those words?"

"I don't know," Harry shrugged.

Remus turned to the other side of the table and fixed his eyes on Hermione in a "no-nonsense" gaze. "How many times?" he asked her.

"Well," she stammered, "She gave Harry detention three times...always every night for a week...and she sometimes kept him for seven or eight hours."

Both men gasped, and Remus breathed, "My God..."

"We started soaking his hand in essence of murtlap afterwards...it seemed to help."

"And where is this woman now?" Sirius asked in a quiet but steely voice.

Remus explained how Umbridge had been carried off by the centaur herd in the forest ("Harry and Hermione were involved in that somehow, I believe, though I haven't heard the full story") and subsequently been sacked.

Ron leaped in enthusiastically at this point. "Hermione was brilliant! Umbridge had caught Harry using the fireplace over there to contact you, and the rest of us trying to cause a diversion so he could do it. Hermione tricked her into going into the forest--"

"Well, I had to do something; she was getting ready to use the Cruciatus Curse on Harry--"

"WHAT?" Remus exclaimed.

"She was trying to make me tell her who I was talking to through the fireplace," Harry explained. "Don't worry--I never would have--"

"Padfoot, I don't know what to say--" Remus started, but Sirius cut everyone off with a raised palm.

"I would like to hear this from the beginning, please," he said, still in that deceptively quiet voice. "Harry?"

So Harry told the entire story of what had gone on in Umbridge's office (ironically, the same office in which they were now sitting), and later the Forbidden Forest, on the day of the Ministry battle. He included Umbridge's confession about sending the dementors after him in Little Whinging, praised Hermione's quick thinking and Grawp's timely arrival, and with some glee, finished with a description of Umbridge's final exit from the castle, pursued by Peeves. "Last I heard, she was still working for the Ministry, though."

"So I am to understand," Sirius summed up, "that a woman who deliberately sent two dementors to attack my godson, and later tortured him so that he still bears the scars, is walking around freely, employed in a responsible position at the Ministry of Magic?"

No one contradicted him.

"Well, not for long," he concluded, rising to his feet, "because I am going to kill her."