Innocence Lost and Found

Remus awoke slowly, and gradually became aware that his shoulder was being shaken. This would have been bizarre enough, because midnight was approaching, and it did not seem appropriate to be awakened at midnight; but it became all the more strange when Remus realized that his wake up call was being delivered by Sirius. Sirius had had many chances in years gone by to end Remus' sleep prematurely. His favorite methods had included jumping on his bed; throwing a bucket of water on his head; performing various appearance-altering hexes; and placing a toad halfway down his throat if he dared to sleep with his mouth open. Never had Sirius done anything as mild and unimaginative as shake him awake. He must still be feeling wrung-out thanks to their conversation of a few hours earlier.

‘Sorry,’ Remus muttered groggily, trying to forget his dream. The images had been exceptionally vivid, and had served to remind him that even if he would always miss the friends he had lost, their memories most definitely became sweeter, and their tragic ends less haunting, over time. The dream had also brought him to the disturbing conclusion that Harry's well-being had been a low priority for those who ruled the wizarding world from the day of Lily's and James' murders. Fourteen years ago he had been infuriated that Sirius had not fulfilled his promise to keep Harry away from the Dursleys; but Sirius was here to rectify that wrong now. He stared at his friend, glad that he no longer had to wrap his mind around the ridiculous idea that Sirius had been the one to betray James and Lily.

‘Earth to Moon-y?’ Sirius asked with a questioning smile.

‘I'm ready. I was just dreaming.’

‘About me?’

‘No, as it happens. Come on. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get to Harry.’

‘I thought you weren't sure about taking him without convincing Dumbledore.’

‘I am now.’

‘Answer come to you in the dream?’

‘You could say that.’ Sirius gave him a trademark pleadingly curious look; he had never been one to allow a perceived secret to remain undiscovered. ‘I was thinking about James' funeral. I held Harry for almost the whole time, and I didn't want to give him back. I knew it was just inherently wrong for him to go to those Muggles. It was wrong then, and it's wrong now.’

‘Harry was at the funeral?’

‘Surprising, isn't it?’

‘What--’ Sirius hesitated, knowing that they should be on their way to the Ministry warehouse, but fighting an overwhelming desire to ask the next question. He decided not to speak, and was therefore disconcerted when he heard his own voice inquire in an echoy sort of way ‘What was the funeral like?’

Remus sighed. ‘I don't remember it terribly well. I must have been partly in shock, and I was focused on Harry.’

‘You should have just left with him.’

Remus' temper rose more swiftly than he generally allowed. ‘What was I going to say when Dumbledore tracked me down and told me to hand him over? 'Gee, Albus, make me?'’

‘No, no, I didn't mean it that way. I know you couldn't have, I just wish you could have.’

‘So did I. So do I. In any case, they had guards around the church and you couldn't attend the funeral if you weren't on their list. Everyone was still out in the streets, celebrating. It was a real circus out there, but it was dead quiet inside. It was the same church Harry was baptized in, obviously. They're buried in the church graveyard, very close in, I don't know if you've been to see them.’

‘I haven't been able to bring myself to go over that way.’

‘I don't blame you. The graves aren't private, even if the funeral was. Er, Dumbledore spoke. Someone from our class at Hogwarts gave the actual eulogy.’

‘Not you?’

‘Everyone walked on eggshells around me and no one dared to ask me to do anything. Besides, I was busy being interrogated while the funeral was being planned. The Ministry shouldn't be trusted with Veritaserum, honestly.’

‘It can't have been a very long interrogation. You hardly knew anything that they didn't.’

‘They didn't want to believe that. For twelve hours they wouldn't let me move from the chair. The Death Eaters are gentler, and not just because their Veritaserum isn't as good, either. But to get back to the point, Harry woke up as we were walking to the graveyard. He threw the first handful of dirt onto the coffins. Not a dry eye in the group.’

‘Do you think he understood?’

‘No. He was too content. He was just such a nice kid, remember?’

‘He still is.’

‘True. Every time the Daily Prophet doesn't have anything worthwhile to report on and starts reporting on him someone comments on how his good nature, and his compassion, probably come from living with a family he more or less hated.’

‘More.’

‘I know that, and you know that, but the rest of the world doesn't. My point is, he's not the person he is because he grew up downtrodden. It may have had some influence on him, but it can't be the be-all and end-all. He was patient and clever and sweet from the day he was born. I haven't stopped to think about that very often, but he really is the same boy he was when he lived with James and Lily.’

‘That makes me feel like less of a failure.’

‘Me, too. I know James wouldn't ask us for something we couldn't give-- he just thought too much to do something like that-- but the bottom line was Harry, himself. James wanted Harry to have just a chance, a chance to be happy and a chance to live, but mostly a chance to grow into the kind of person he would have been if his parents had been there to guide him. And he is-- in spite of everything, he is!’

‘And in a few days we'll make sure that the nice kid gets treated the way he deserves. He has to be first this time. Even if we can't get to the wand, we're pulling Harry out of there. James would ask us for that much.’

‘I think he would.’ They had continued their conversation as they moved through the house, gathering cloaks and checking locking spells. These small tasks were necessary, and had the added benefit of allowing Remus and Sirius to avoid making eye contact.

‘Do you still miss him?’ asked Sirius when he was as far away from his friend as he expected to be that night; that is to say, they were separated by perhaps two meters.

‘Miss James? Of course.’

‘The same way you did at first?’

Remus paused, obviously considering his answer before voicing it. ‘It's not the same. It's not a knife in my chest. Around the time they died, it was just all-consuming, but when time passed-- there are different kinds of missing people. There's missing people that you're used to seeing every day when you leave home, or school. That part fades. As for the other parts, even if I'll always miss him, life goes on. He wasn't the only person I lost in that war, and I just wouldn't be able to function if all I thought about them the way I did when they first died. But it's not that any of them matter any less. I'm not explaining this well.’

‘You're explaining perfectly.’

‘I doubt it.’

‘I don't. I-- When I was locked up, I didn't have a choice. I had to relive a handful of events over and over. I knew I wasn't going mad, but for a long time I just wished I could. And when I left, for months the feelings didn't stop. I thought they were permanent, even if I could focus on tracking down Wormtail and watching Harry, but they changed. My mind cleared, and I just wondered . . .’ his voice trailed off.

‘I understand. Are you ready to go?’ Of course he isn't, neither of us is, Remus thought to himself, but they had no choice. Sirius answered in the affirmative, and they Apparated as one from the front porch to a side street near the warehouse which held the precious object of their quest.

Moments later, the two were huddled behind a transportation vehicle markedly similar to a Muggle automobile that they most sincerely hoped had been parked for the night. They were not sure of the exact time of the shift change, but they assumed that they would know it when they saw it, and, like any seasoned criminals, they knew well that the shift change was the best time to strike. Each made a supreme effort to focus on the task at hand and not on the multitude of emotionally draining conversations they had had that day. Sirius in particular was quite sure that he had done more pseudo-psychological analysis on himself and on Remus and Harry over the past day than he had in the previous thirty-odd years of his life.

He turned to look at Remus once more. His face, full of concentration, shone in the light of the nearly-full moon. The light caught not only his almost-too-pale features but the silver streaks in his hair, and Sirius wondered if perhaps they should have darkened those before leaving. He had even been slightly tempted to brush up on his transfiguration skills and equip them with a pair of balaclavas; but those did more harm than good in that they made their wearers look suspicious.

They heard the commotion in the doorway at the exact same moment; they caught one another's eyes and half rose to slip around their respective sides of their hiding place. With their typical canine quietness, they crept to the side of the building and pressed themselves against a cool stone wall. They edged nearer and nearer the doorway, which was the sole entrance to the building.

Suddenly, a shout caused both marauders to duck madly behind the far corner of the building, almost exactly opposite their final destination, pulling each other down by the shoulders as they went. After a brief pause to regroup, they observed that the shout had been that of a child, several blocks away. Slightly ashamed eyes met in the darkness. ‘We're pathetic,’ each informed the other without speaking aloud.

‘Stupid brat should be in bed, anyway,’ Sirius added in his softest voice before they began the slow, painful, process of creeping forward again.

In the lead, Remus was offering prayers to every god he had ever heard of, and some he had just invented, that the door would not be properly closed before they were able to approach it. Anxiously, he slipped his hand in the general direction of the door. He slipped his hand right into what felt like the mouth of a rabid nundu.

Instantly, he bit his lips hard enough to fill his mouth with blood. A mouthful of blood, even for a werewolf reluctantly approaching the full moon, was infinitely preferable to a cry of pain. He should have known that such spells would surround the doorway. They were hard to place over extended amount of space, and so the entire building did not radiate invisible jets of scalding heat and acid, but naturally the areas nearest the door did.

It's not as bad as touching silver. It's not as bad as touching silver. It's not as bad as touching silver, he repeated to himself. Serves you right for not thinking about such an old spell, he added. At least he had not triggered an alarm. An auditory or visible alarm would be impractical because the sensory jets could be triggered by an animal or by the wind; the jets' effectiveness depended on the offending witch or wizard screaming with pain. Remus, though, was used to pain. It's not all bad to be a werewolf.

Behind Remus, Sirius correctly guessed his friend's predicament even without a clear view of his face or the door. Silently, he seized his companion's affected hand and performed a numbing spell, and then conjured a sort of balm which, while it was not specific enough to heal a complicated wound, would at least stop it from worsening while the hand's owner was otherwise occupied.

Sirius rewarded Remus' thankful smile with a devious smirk, and took over the role of leader. The first-shift and second-shift guards were still talking and paying their duties very little mind. It would have made one wonder about the Ministry if one hadn't wondered already.

The opportunity they had been awaiting came so obviously it might as well have been accompanied by a sign that read ‘walk past the guards now.’ All four watchwizards turned to look down the street, where the child they had previously heard shouting was standing in the middle of the street and loudly proclaiming that she did not want to go to bed, much less to sleep.

As Sirius marched into the warehouse, he took back his earlier declaration that the child was a stupid brat. No, now she was gifted, and helpful, and intelligent, and deserving of a large gift from an unknown benefactor. He could not, of course, tell all of this to Remus, but he became distracted as he formulated words to use when he did tell Remus. His anticipation of the celebration they would have after they retrieved his wand grew, and with it grew his distraction.

He was unprepared when familiar hands seized him and thrust him into a closet.

‘Padfoot!’ whispered Remus. ‘They aren't going to stare off away from the building forever. I think one is making rounds now.’ Footsteps clicking past their hiding place proved Remus right. They tensed against each other when the footsteps returned and opened the door.

‘Bob? This should be locked!’ he called.

‘So lock it. You know how first shift is, screwing things up for us.’

‘Got it.’ He locked the door without ever looking inside.

‘Remember to write a report on that,’ Bob yelled from his position near the front door.

Sirius and Remus could almost hear the face the other wizard made. ‘I hate those. Look, and there are traces of alohomora. There'll be an investigation if I write a report. It's a lot of effort just to get at first shift.’

‘Then don't report it. You did make sure no one's hiding inside?’

‘Of course.’ The man sounded insulted. Sirius and Remus steadfastly avoided looking at one another, though they could not have seen each other's smirks in the dark.

‘Did you use alohomora?’ Sirius asked when he was sure it was safe.

‘Yes.’

‘These guys are dumber than Filch on a bad day.’

‘But if we do get caught, the penalties are going to be a lot worse than a night spent cleaning the trophy room.’

‘You don't need to remind me. Is your hand okay?’

‘It will be.’

Sirius felt about in the dark, and, upon finding what he was reasonably sure was an unused cleaning cloth, transfigured a glove. ‘Put this on so you won't make it worse.’ Remus obeyed. ‘Now what?’

‘The basement,’ said Remus firmly. ‘One of my ex-students took a tour and said that that's where all the 'cool' stuff is.’

‘They give tours?’

‘To new Ministry security employees, yes. I don't suppose she should have been telling me what she saw, though.’

Sirius nodded sagely. ‘A Hufflepuff?’

‘Sirius!’ Remus did his best to sound scolding, but finally rolled his eyes and admitted ‘Yes.’

They waited in silence for the guard who was not Bob to walk past them once more. When they were sure he was checking an upper floor, and suspected that Bob was gazing out the front door, they cautiously left the closet, relocking it just in case not all of the guards hated to file reports, and unlocked a door further along the echoing corridor. They locked themselves inside and found that they were standing on a metal platform perhaps half a meter square.

Remus looked down and blanched.

Sirius looked down and grinned.

Below them was a narrow, metal, spiral staircase attached to the platform on which they stood by a single bolt and to the wall by another. A handwritten sign haphazardly attached to a rusted-through handrail advertised ‘The Stairs of Death.’

They agreed at a glance that the steps would not support their weight, together or separately; they would not even support the weight of a large dog, even if the dog in question could have navigated them with his four feet. In addition, the slightest touch of Remus' hand produced a soft creak which would have been much amplified had they attempted to use the metal monstrosity to descend to the floor below.

Jumping was a dubious solution. They did not know the length of the drop or onto what they would be dropping, and a crash in the basement would surely draw even Bob's attention.

‘Lumos,’ Remus murmured, and with that he tossed his wand through the gap between the stairs and the wall. The spark of light fell less than one story, but landed on a floor obviously made of glass-like gravel that would crunch and pop loudly if trod on by any but the gentlest of footsteps.

Now that they understood the situation, they knew how to manage it. Remus sank to a crouch, placing as much of his body as possible in contact with the metal platform. One of his hands clasped one of Sirius', and he allowed Sirius to seize his other wrist above the glove, which he noticed for the first time happened to be pink with orange stripes. He lowered Sirius to the ground gently, and then followed, allowing Sirius to half-catch him so that he would make no noise.

Remus retrieved his wand and increased the amount of light it spread across the room; beside him, Sirius lit his own wand. Boxes and boxes of startlingly disorganized objects littered the shelves of the expansive cellar.

Luckily, though, Sirius was drawn to his childhood possession like a magnet. They summarily removed the few simple spells that surrounded it. Sirius gave the wand a fond look but allowed Remus to pick it up. It was likely to spark the first time he touched it after so many years, and this show should be saved for his trial. Not only would it prove that the wand was his, it would prove that he certainly hadn't been the one to remove it from Ministry custody.

With the exception of lowly whispered spells, neither had spoken a word during the half-hour that had passed since they had left the closet. Their quietness remained as they retraced their steps, maneuvered past Bob (who was investigating a plaque that seemed to be mysteriously flashing in different colors), and Apparated back to the safety of Remus' house.