Innocence Lost and Found

Harry regretted his decision not to walk through the barrier between platforms nine and ten almost as soon as he made it. He was only prolonging the inevitable, and his anxiety grew with every second of time that passed before it would be late enough to Apparate to Hogsmeade and walk to Hogwarts to start the new term.

If I had just got on the train instead of panicking, I'd be with Ron and Hermione right now, he thought to himself. That would be one less thing to worry about. Not that I'm worrying about seeing them. They're my friends, and it won't be any different than after any other summer, will it? They might even have an idea what McGonagall wants with me.

After a few hours of this, and of Remus and Sirius trying in vain to distract him and apologizing for giving him the option of not getting on the train, they Apparated to Hogsmeade, but instead of simply walking to the school, as the students did on Hogsmeade weekends, they crept into the basement of Honeydukes' Sweetshop.

‘This passage still works?’ Sirius inquired.

‘It did last year. Couldn't you break the spells protecting it, anyway? It's only Filch that's in charge of keeping students out of the tunnels he knows about.’

Sirius laughed. ‘No, I can't break the spells. That's the point. Hogwarts is one of the safest places in the world. Voldemort himself can't get in; I certainly can't.’

At first, they walked along slowly, but their pace quickened, and they found themselves inside the castle more quickly than they had intended to. ‘That's good. You'll have time to get your things upstairs and put robes on,’ said Remus, making the trunk visible for the first time since they had left the flat in London. ‘Then you can go talk to Professor McGonagall.’ Harry nodded. ‘Have a good term. Don't look so worried.’

‘I'm not worried. Bye. Bye, Sirius.’

‘Bye, Harry. Are you sure you're all right?’

Harry shrugged. ‘I'm not sure I can get the trunk through the opening,’ he answered, gesturing at the secret door.

‘That we can help you with. Open it up.’ Harry did so. Sirius compacted the trunk and slid it through the narrow space that had formed between the wall and a statue. He then muttered a spell to return the trunk, and Hedwig's cage, which was still bound to the trunk, to their usual sizes. They had just closed the opening when a startled voice cried

‘POTTER!’

‘Professor McGonagall. I--’

‘We had an owl saying you weren't on the Express, and Dumbledore suspected-- with the awful news-- you've seen today's Daily Prophet?’

Harry shook his head, and his eyes strayed to the copy that she held in her hand as she frantically ordered a nearby Nearly Headless Nick to bring Dumbledore and any other professors he could find to the scene.

‘There are better ways to find out, but you do need to see it.’ She handed the folded newspaper to Harry, and he opened it with trepidation. He nearly dropped it when he saw the front page photograph. Now it was no wonder that she looked as emotional and out of control as she ever did. The Dark Mark was bad enough, but he knew the house over which it floated. He had been there only a few times; still, he was able to place it without question. ‘They didn't find a body, but Death Eaters are not known for leaving victims alive,’ she said, her voice faltering slightly.

‘No one was home.’

Her gaze became so piercing that Harry was sure he had imagined the vulnerability he had perceived a moment before. ‘Do you know that for a fact, Potter?’ she asked, carefully enunciating each word.

‘I know that the person who lives there wasn't home.’

‘And how would you know that?’

‘I, er,’ Harry was not sure how to explain.

‘Potter. Let me rephrase this. When was the last time you saw Professor Lupin?’

‘A few minutes ago,’ Harry answered honestly.

‘He got you into the building, obviously. Anyone else?’

Harry hesitated, and was given a brief stay of execution when Professor Dumbledore and most of the rest of Hogwarts' faculty (including, to Harry's dismay, Professor Snape) appeared in the corridor.

‘Harry, are you all right?’ Dumbledore asked.

‘Yes.’

‘He also claims to have seen Remus within the last few minutes.’ The postures of most of the professors relaxed visibly, although Harry could have sworn that Snape looked disappointed.

However, Snape did not sound anything but silky when he spoke. ‘So, Potter, where's the secret passage that your responsible former professor used to get you into the castle without passing the front gate?’

Dumbledore placed a restraining hand on Snape's upper arm, but his eyes were hard when he looked back at Harry. ‘Yes, Harry, why don't you open the secret passage for us?’

Seeing that he had no choice, and hoping that Fred and George would eventually forgive him, Harry reached for his trunk.

‘Potter! Now!’ Snape commanded.

‘I can't open the passageway without my wand, Sir,’ Harry answered with as much sarcasm as he dared use.

‘Here.’ McGonagall handed him her own wand, which Harry supposed was something of an honor on some level, and he tapped the hump of the statue of the old crone.

‘Dissendium.’ Harry watched the passageway open and a certain amount of his freedom die. Meanwhile, a collective gasp went up from the assembled faculty members.

‘Run down there and bring back your escorts,’ said McGonagall in a voice that left no room for argument.

‘All of your escorts, Harry,’ Dumbledore added.

Harry scrambled inside. As he had suspected, he did not have to go far to find Sirius and Remus, who had stopped to listen to the conversation.

‘Are you coming?’

‘Do you see us as having a choice?’ asked Sirius.

‘Who's out there?’ asked Remus.

‘Everyone,’ answered Harry regretfully. ‘Almost everyone. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, Flitwick, Sinastra, Hagrid, a few I don't really know.’

‘Thank you.’ Remus climbed out of the passage behind Harry, looking and feeling guilty as sin. He was startled to note that the expressions on the faces of his former professors and colleagues were nearly universally relieved.

‘You haven't seen this either?’ Minerva McGonagall asked him, handing him a newspaper. He grimaced.

‘Were they after me or Harry?’ he asked.

‘As best as we can tell, just you. They thought there was a small possibility Harry would be there, but you were enough to make the trip. Anyone else they got would be icing on the cake,’ Dumbledore answered.

Remus might have said more, but startled gasps were beginning to resound through the assembled group. ‘That's Sirius Black,’ someone said. Several other voices began to protest that he was all right, but they were drowned out by the loudest voice of all.

‘YEH BASTARD!’ shouted Hagrid, seeming even more giant-like than usual in the small corridor. ‘YEH BASTARD. I'LL DO WHAT THE DEMENTORS COULDN'T!’ He reached Sirius in one long stride, quite obviously intent on ripping Sirius' limbs from his body. Several wands were instantly raised in Sirius' defense, not least of which was his own, but he obviously felt hesitant to use force against another human being, even one who presented a very real threat to his physical well-being.

No wands or shouts could dissuade Hagrid, but Harry's throwing himself into the half-giant's body gave him pause. ‘HARRY, D'YOU KNOW WHO THIS IS?’

‘Yes, Hagrid. Wait, listen before you do anything.’

‘YEH AREN' TELLIN' ME YEH BELIEVE HE DIDN' BETRAY YER PARENTS--’

‘THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I BELIEVE!’

‘YEAH, WELL, I'LL ASK QUESTIONS LATER!’ Hagrid struggled to detach himself from Harry, who was in a very stubborn frame of mind. ‘DON' YEH REMEMBER THAT LESS'N TWO YEARS AGO, HE WAS TRYIN' TO SNEAK INTO THIS CASTLE AN' GET TO YEH? HIS BES' FREIN'S SON, AN' HE WOULD HAVE DONE ANYTHING TO GET TO YEH!’

Sirius drew himself up against the wall. ‘Yes,’ he replied softly but clearly. ‘My best friend's son, and I would have done anything to get to him.’

The intensity in Sirius' voice sent a chill down Harry's spine, and he froze, his hands still clutching Hagrid's coat. ‘But not to hurt me,’ he managed to say, afraid that Sirius' life depended on his finding his voice. ‘Hagrid, you've been accused of doing things you didn't do! Listen! You know they put the wrong people in Azkaban all the time!’

‘I would hope it's not 'all the time,'’ Dumbledore took up, catching Hagrid's beetle-black eyes. ‘But it does happen. Hagrid, I haven't had a chance to talk with you about this yet. Nor have I spoken to Cynthia.’ He nodded to a woman that Harry did not know. ‘I give you my word that Sirius Black is innocent of all charges against him, and that he has been of assistance to me since his escape from Azkaban. We all seem to have much to discuss, but a school full of students will be arriving within a few hours. I suggest that you make your final preparations. Minerva, if you would escort our recent arrivals to my office and wait for me to join you?’ She nodded crisply. ‘Harry, leave your things there. They will find their way to your dormitory.’

‘Thank you,’ Harry mumbled as the professors hastened to obey the headmaster. They walked most of the way to Dumbledore's office in quiet that was eventually broken by Remus.

‘Minerva? What's going on?’

‘I thought you were sharper than this, Remus. A former Hogwarts student, a current Hogwarts student, and a former Hogwarts professor just broke into the castle using a secret passage they had all neglected to tell us about.’ Remus beat down a blush, but, noticing his slight coloring, his one-time professor took pity on him as her features softened. ‘All of you were presumed dead when Ron and Hermione owled to say that Harry wasn't on the train. It was an easy conclusion to jump to after the attack on your house.’ She nearly shuddered, but snapped a password and entered Dumbledore's office. ‘You three are all all right?’

‘Yes.’

‘Sit down.’ They sat, and her eyes fixed on Sirius. Harry and Remus were both glad that she was not looking at them that way, but Sirius did not seem bothered. He raised innocent eyes from the fascinating section of wall he had been staring at.

‘Yes, Professor McGonagall?’ he asked. To Harry's great surprise, and Remus' mild amusement, she smiled affectionately.

‘As long as I'm baby-sitting you, would you mind if I asked you something?’

‘Not at all.’

‘How-- how--’

‘Professor, I need you to be more specific,’ Sirius interrupted. ‘How did I escape from Azkaban, how did I stay sane, how did I get into the castle, how did Harry get to be somewhere other than on the Hogwarts Express, how did I manage not to lose my devastatingly handsome looks?’

Harry's jaw nearly dropped.

‘The first two, Mr. Black.’

‘You don't have any suspicions?’

‘I do. All I've been told is that you're innocent. I'm willing to accept that on faith, and because it simply never made sense that you of all people would be the betrayer, but, while I don't have an official reason to know, I would like to see my suspicions confirmed.’

Sirius nodded. ‘I stayed sane in part because my knowledge that I was wrongfully imprisoned was not a happy thought that could be sucked out of me. My innocence and my identity were inextricably linked. I knew who I was, and I knew that I had magical powers, so I was able to simplify things.’ He stood up and, with a pop, transformed himself into the large, black dog with pale eyes. He strolled down the side of the room, allowing his questioner to examine him more closely, and then returned to human form to see that her smile had changed to a glare.

‘This occurred when?’

‘During my fifth year.’

‘Did you have any idea how dangerous that was?’

Sirius blinked. ‘Would it help if I told you I was deeply ashamed of myself?’ he asked ingratiatingly. Harry was getting the distinct impression that his godfather had gotten away with more than any other student who had every been in one of Professor McGonagall's classes.

‘Absolutely not, because I'd know you were lying. Honestly, the things you got away with. It's no wonder you were so carried away with your own intelligence.’

‘But we had such good teachers,’ Sirius protested in a smarmy manner reminiscent of the one that Peeves the Poltergeist used to speak to Dumbledore. ‘Doesn't it make you feel better to know that I was paying attention in your class?’

‘I knew you paid attention in my class, I knew you paid attention once every few months because that was all the attention you had to pay, unless you'd just lost fifty points for Gryffindor, and then you'd try to win them back by answering every question.’

‘You say that like it's a bad thing.’

‘There are worse things, certainly, but an illegal animagus transformation! You understand that the Ministry has reasons for keeping track of these things. What if something had gone wrong? Did you know the reversal spells?’

‘Yes. We all did. We learned them first so that Remus would stop wringing his hands over the whole thing.’

‘Ah, yes, the token voice of common sense. But a werewolf's body can't undergo further transformations.’

‘No,’ Remus answered, sounding rather like he was being interrogated by a board of judges. ‘That was their original goal. They found out that I was a werewolf near the beginning of our second year and decided that they would help me by becoming animals themselves and accompanying me to the Shrieking Shack on the full moons.’

‘Meaning that Peter Pettigrew . . . .’ her voice trailed off in disbelief.

Sirius picked up the conversation again. ‘Yes. James was a stag. Peter was a rat, obviously enough. He cut off his own finger, transformed, and ran into the sewer the day he blew apart that street to frame me. He got himself adopted by Ron Weasley's family-- which brother?’

‘Percy,’ Harry inserted automatically.

‘Percy. And Percy gave him to Ron before Ron started school. When the family won some sort of Ministry contest, their photograph was in the Daily Prophet, and Ron's rat was sitting on his shoulder. As soon as I saw that, I started planning my escape in earnest. My becoming a dog confused the dementors, and I was able to slip through the bars and swim to shore.’

‘That was why Ron's was the bed you attacked with your knife when you broke into the castle.’

‘Correct.’

‘You didn't think there was a better way to handle the situation?’

‘I couldn't think much at all. And after my conviction, I wasn't much for trusting anyone but myself.’

‘Dumbledore knows all of this?’

‘He does.’

‘Does he know of all the passageways out of the castle that you know of?’

‘We know of--’ Sirius glanced at Remus.

‘You still can't answer a question without checking with each other?’ she asked, amused.

‘We know of seven,’ Sirius and Remus answered together.

‘Four we know that Mr. Filch knows about,’ continued Remus. ‘One is the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack. One is the one we just used. It runs into Honeyduke's basement. And the last is behind that elaborate mirror on the fourth floor.’

‘Did you know about all of these as well, Mr. Potter?’

Harry blanched. ‘Yes.’

‘And knowing the danger of present times better than anyone, you did not see fit to inform me?’

Remus interrupted. ‘It isn't his fault he didn't tell you. Sirius and I both encouraged him. I even told him once that his father would have been disappointed if he hadn't learned to sneak out of the castle.’

‘Was this while you were still teaching him?’

‘No. Later.’

‘But it's quite obvious that you did know how Sirius was breaking into the castle that year?’

‘Not for certain. I assumed that he was using his dark powers and not his childhood tricks. But, yes, Severus Snape had a point when he suggested that my friendship with Sirius was a breach of security.’

‘Not nearly so much as his hatred for Sirius has been. I wasn't accusing you, Remus. I think you did a great deal more good than ill that year.’

‘Well, Minerva, is the interrogation finished?’ Dumbledore interrupted jocularly. None of them had seen him enter; but neither were any of them surprised that they had not.

‘Yes, Dumbledore.’

‘Good. I'd like to ask them some questions myself. But I would also like to direct Harry up to his dormitory. Put some robes on. You are back in school.’ Harry nodded obediently. ‘Come back here when you've changed.’

As soon as Harry left, Dumbledore rounded on Sirius. ‘Your godson looks as if he's feeling well,’ he began, his voice deceptively calm.

‘He is.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because we were just sitting in the same room.’

‘After I told you to stay away from his relatives' house this summer?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘May I ask you a question?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Which part of 'lie low' didn't you understand?’ Sirius was silent. ‘Remus? Which part of 'lie low' were you unable to explain to your friend?’ Remus was silent as well. ‘Am I given to understand that you both knew what I meant by 'lie low' and furthermore by 'you are not to interfere with Harry Potter until I give you permission?'’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Would you agree that taking Harry from his relatives' house less than halfway through the summer and using contact lenses and a hat to disguise him constitutes interfering?’

‘We would.’

‘Why did you do it?’

Sirius dropped his formal, contrite manner instantaneously. ‘I had to put Harry first. He may have been physically safe in that house-- or he may not have been-- but he certainly wasn't getting everything he needed or the kind of support he deserved. The first time I went to see him he was so out of sorts he could barely talk. Entirely blamed himself for Cedric Diggory's death. Wasn't eating. Wasn't sleeping.’

‘You didn't mention this when you spoke to me, Sirius. You spoke in generalities. Generalities are not helpful in times like these.’ Sirius stared back at Dumbledore. ‘You should have told me.’

‘Would things have been different if I had?’

‘Not in the end, but they would have been easier. You never did make a habit of doing things in the easy way. I suggest that you start.’

‘Did you raise the spells so we could get to him?’

‘Yes. You put me in the rather unpleasant position of being disappointed in you no matter what you did. Either you disregarded everything I told you or you allowed Harry to remain in that situation.’

‘You knew?’

‘I have never left him out there alone. Is his head all right after its meeting with that frying pan?’

‘Yes. It was just a bump.’

‘You checked for a concussion?’

‘Yes.’

‘Where did you take him afterwards? You obviously didn't stay with Remus all summer, although we're grateful for that in light of last night's events.’

‘Muggle London.’

‘Muggle London. Where he and you were entirely unprotected from the various individuals who would love to find you in a vulnerable situation. Why did you make this particular decision?’

‘It's like looking for a needle in a haystack. London is full of people, and we didn't use any magic, so we couldn't be tracked that way. They would have had to be very lucky to recognize us. I knew it wasn't as safe in some ways as staying with his aunt and uncle would be, but I don't threaten him with frying pans and tell him he's useless or lock him in one room all day.’

‘Or tie him to the bed. Or starve him,’ added Remus.

‘I don't believe that anything I, or we, did this summer, was wrong,’ Sirius continued. ‘He remained safe, and I was a good parent, or a better parent than his aunt and uncle have ever been. I took care of him when he needed it. I saw that he did his homework, I saw that he was comfortable, I even made him eat his vegetables. All right?’

‘All right. I would also like to note that the reason I forbade Hagrid to give Harry to you the night James and Lily died was because I believed you had been their secret keeper, not because I did not trust you to be a fit parent. I'm not sure that that ever worked its way through your skull. Now let me tell you where we stand. As far as we know, the Death Eaters suspected but could not prove that Harry was not staying with the Dursleys. They have long memories and know full well that the two of you and James were all close friends. They decided to strike Remus' house just in case. When no bodies were found, but Remus did not contact anyone, no one was sure what to think. The Ministry had no ideas at all, and my thought was that you were spending the day with Harry before putting him on the train. When Harry did not get on the train, I expected that you were all dead or in their custody. As of now, the Ministry knows nothing, with the exception of Arthur Weasley. Ron owled his parents when he owled us.’

‘Does that mean Ron and Hermione think I'm dead?’ Harry interrupted. He had returned, clad in his school uniform and his customary glasses, and found the entrance to the office standing open.

‘You can correct any mis-assumptions they may have when they arrive.’

‘But before that, I need a word with you, Potter. Over here.’ Professor McGonagall had been quiet since Harry had left the room, but now she stood and pushed open a wall of Dumbledore's office which led to a smaller room. Harry glanced at the wall with something less than curiosity. He was nearly accustomed to odd things such as this happening. ‘This room is only here on weekends,’ McGonagall explained as she ushered him inside.

‘Oh.’

‘Now, did Sirius and Remus descend to give you your letter?’

‘Yes. It said you wanted to see me.’

‘Do you have any idea what about?’

‘No. Professor Lupin said he had an idea but he didn't want to tell me what.’

‘Good for him. He was in the same situation when he was your age, so he might know what I want from you. You know that the youngest prefects are in fifth year?’

‘Yes. Hermione's one.’

‘She is. Would you like to be one as well?’

‘What?’

‘Do, you, want, to, be, a, prefect?’ she drew out her words slowly.

‘I didn't know you asked. I thought they just got a letter with a badge.’

‘Ordinarily, they do. Most prefects show very plainly that they would like to have a position of responsibility and are already leaders among their classmates, and near the top of their year academically.’

‘But I'm not. Hermione's the top in everything, and I know I'm not close to her.’

‘Believe it or not, you are. She's separated from you by a fraction of a percentage point in Defense Against the Dark Arts. You do well in your other courses, with the exception of Potions, and there are some extenuating circumstances there. There are some extenuating circumstances in any case because of your rather unusual position within the wizarding world. All of the students of Gryffindor House know you, and they seem to respect you as well. I know that you aren't fond of publicity for the most part, so we decided to ask you whether or not you wanted the position.’

‘Do you think I should take it?’

‘I wouldn't be offering it to you if I didn't think you would do well. This is not something you've been offered because you're the Boy Who Lived. This is not something you're being offered because it's something your parents did, and did well. That has nothing to do with it.’

‘I didn't think there were usually two prefects in the same house in the same year.’

‘There aren't, but it does happen. Your parents were both prefects before they were Head Boy and Head Girl. Your godfather,’ she jerked her head toward the wall that had opened and closed ‘would have been a prefect as well if he had ever shown the slightest inclination to use his intellectual abilities for anything but causing mayhem. And Remus was offered the position because he was top of one class and second in another, and very responsible except perhaps in his choice of friends.’ She gave Harry a tiny smile. ‘He refused. I wish he hadn't.’

Harry was now certain that his professor was attempting to convince him to accept the position. He wanted to please her, but she was right: he didn't like being the center of attention. He also didn't imagine that Ron would react very well if Harry and Hermione were both prefects and he was not. Finally, he didn't think that he should accept a position of honor that entailed a great deal of work (when Quidditch already took up a huge amount of his time-- but his father had obviously managed to do both) just because he liked the prefects' bathroom.

Professor McGonagall seemed to sense the direction in which Harry was leaning, because she spoke again. ‘What I'm about to say to you is off, off, off the record. All right?’ Harry nodded. ‘This isn't the best reason for you to make your decision, but it's a very real reason. You know that Miss Granger is at the top every one of her classes.’

Boy, do I know that. ‘Yes.’

‘If she continues as she has been going, she will be the Head Girl. She has very little competition. Academics are not the only determinant in choosing a Head Boy and Girl, but they are a major one. The Head Boy will in all likelihood be one of the students who is threatening to throw Miss Granger out of the top spot in one of her classes. Terry Boot from Ravenclaw is a prefect this year, and he's quite talented in charms. There's Draco Malfoy, who is never far behind Hermione in Potions. And there's you. I repeat that this is off the record, but Terry is very much a dark horse in this race. Do you understand?’

‘Draco's going to be Head Boy unless I am.’ That's two whole years away!

‘Correct. You will have to listen to Mr. Malfoy's thoughts on that situation, and I will have to listen to Professor Snape's views on that situation. If you'd like to deliver either of us from those fates, I'd suggest that you accept this badge.’ A shining, sliver badge like the one Percy had used to wear appeared in her hand.

Well, Ron would like that even less than he'll like me being a prefect. And Hermione would have to put up with Malfoy all the time. And that swimming pool they think is a bath is really very nice. ‘I'd love to be a prefect.’

‘I thought you would.’ He accepted the offered badge and pinned it to his robes, and they both stood up. The opposite wall swung open this time, and Harry was pleasantly surprised to learn that they were standing right next to the entrance to the Great Hall. He stood in the doorway and searched for Ron's bright hair, which was very convenient in situations like this one. Catching sight of one of the twins-- George, he guessed-- instead, he headed towards him, instead, failing to notice that an unusual visitor had just passed behind him.

Cornelius Fudge, in his pinstriped cloak, was storming towards Dumbledore's office, where Dumbledore remained with Remus-- and Sirius.