Innocence Lost and Found

Remus grimly reached for the copy of the Daily Prophet that had just been deposited outside his office and hoped that the crises that one article could cause had been staved off for another day.

It had been just over two weeks since the disastrous aborted field trip to the Ministry offices. Points had been dutifully handed out to the houses of each student who had received a commendation on his or her Hogwarts record, and most of the injured students had returned to class.

Remus had at first been petrified that the Ministry would discover that Sirius had been out of the castle at the time of the attack, but no one who had known of Sirius' whereabouts had spoken up. Dumbledore had twisted Percy Weasley's arm just in time, and Percy had attributed his attempts to stop the field trip to an older brother's paranoia. With Dumbledore spending virtually all of his time at the Ministry, allowing Cornelius Fudge to make very few decisions on his own, inquiries had been few. The Prophet's articles on the attack on the Hogwarts students had been extremely factual and it seemed that the entire wizarding community was gearing up for a war. Because of this new subject, the Prophet and the Ministry had paid Sirius little mind, save a brief report of the trial that had been printed the day after its occurrence.

Skimming the headlines, Remus saw nothing that was cause for immediate concern-- until he reached the very last page.

The Boy Who Lived and The Man Who Laughed

by Helena Jackson, special to the Daily Prophet

Almost lost amidst the tragedy of the attack on Ministry of Magic offices two weeks ago has been the Ministry's consideration of the fact that infamous Azkaban escapee Sirius Black may in truth be an innocent man. A preliminary trial was held at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry the night before the unfortunate events which left the lives of several Hogwarts fifth-year students in jeopardy.

The final decision will most likely support the jury's recommendation that Black be declared innocent of all charges, most notably the murder of thirteen people with one curse. Exact, formal decisions regarding conditions and possible reparations will be made by Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge and William Middleton, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, in the coming months.

While Black's name once inspired nearly as much fear as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's, and his escape from the Fortress of Azkaban two years ago led Minister Fudge to allow the dementors of Azkaban to patrol village streets and even Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the opinions of his jurors have changed one hundred and eighty degrees. Many of the Ministry employees who served as jurors were in tears during Black's closing statement:

‘My behavior has not always been mature and well thought out. It has not always answered to common sense and it has not always served my best interests. I do not regret that I have not served myself well. I do regret that I have not served Harry Potter well. He is my best friend's son. I have sworn since the day he was born that I would love him. I do. I have sworn since the day he was born that I would take care of him. I have not been able to. He's not the baby he was when I first began to make the mistakes that have kept me from him. He's tall enough to put his head on my shoulder when I hug him and he's old enough to tell me I'm a hypocrite when I ask him to have more sense than I do, although I must say that he only tells me so very politely. I'm asking for the benefit of the doubt. I'm asking to be formally and publicly allowed back into my godson's life when he's in more danger than ever. Please.’

Black's statement was made even more poignant by the response of his godson, the Boy Who Lived himself. Young Harry Potter nodded in agreement as Black spoke, and silently pled with the jury to accept Black's words at face value. It certainly must seem a fairy tale ending to the boy who grew up in a Muggle community, believing the world to be devoid of those connected to his murdered parents.

However, the judgment of those in power will not be swayed by the pleas of a fifteen-year-old student. Older wizards and witches remember well the tale of an older Potter or two, that is, the story of James and Lily Potter. These martyrs revered Sirius Black as a dear friend. Stories of the boyhood adventures of Sirius Black and James Potter abound: two notorious jokesters and charmers enjoying their lives thoroughly. Black in particular has been described as ‘the kind of man that made women walk into walls.’ Young Harry Potter, desperate to be loved, is certainly at least as susceptible to Black's oaths of loyalty and witty promises of a happy life as his father was. He has already voiced hopes, according to a source at Hogwarts, of going to live with his notorious godfather during school vacations.

Black's ability to care for his godson during vacations is in doubt even if Black is indeed an innocent man; statements at his recent trial revealed that he attempted suicide repeatedly during his term in Azkaban and that he may be mentally unstable. Further doubt can be cast on Black's character and the character of his connections when one considers that Black's childhood wand, which provided crucial evidence during the trial, is alleged to have been removed from a Ministry storehouse and given to Mr. Middleton moments before the trial began.

If even a chance remains that Black's rather far-fetched tale of illegal animagus transformations and betrayals is indeed untrue, perhaps Minister Fudge and Mr. Middleton will decide not to take the risk of allowing the worst enemy of our unsuspecting young hero back into his life.

‘Garbage,’ Remus grumbled as a knock sounded on his door. ‘Come in.’

‘About ready for breakfast?’ asked Sirius as he opened the door and lounged against its frame.

‘Exactly ready. Did you read the Prophet this morning?’

‘Not yet. Why? How bad is it?’

‘Perhaps Minister Fudge and Mr. Middleton will decide not to take the risk of allowing the worst enemy of our unsuspecting young hero back into his life,’ Remus quoted.

‘Who wrote it?’

‘Helena Jackson.’

‘One of the ones who's a mouthpiece for Fudge and nothing else.’

‘Right.’

‘Fudge will hear from Dumbledore about that.’

‘But the damage may already be done.’

‘If it is, it's not worth worrying about.’

‘Padfoot.’

‘We'll worry when we know more about what's going on, unless Snape decides to read that article to his classes so he can embarrass Harry. Think he will?’

‘He seems to be a bit preoccupied with his other duties.’ Remus closed and locked his door as he spoke.

‘Think he knows--’

‘Don't say things like that out loud!’

‘Like what?’ Sirius gave his friend a falsely innocent look. ‘I was just wondering if Snape knew that that Ravenclaw prefect is coming back to class today.’

‘His name is Terry Boot. It might do you well to learn it before you have to teach him.’

‘I don't teach my students. I baby-sit them. You know that.’

‘I'd forgotten. It must have been because I was thinking about how wonderful it was to see the first years running about talking about how amazing it is to be able to turn a match into a needle.’

Sirius shrugged. ‘The smart ones just pick it up from the textbooks sometimes.’

‘That must be it.’

‘It has to be. I let them spend class playing Exploding Snap and talking to each other.’

‘I understand.’

‘Speaking of talking in class, does Harry usually?’

‘You mean to his friends when he thinks the professor isn't looking? No more than most. No less, either.’

‘That, and does he answer questions?’

‘Not usually, but if you single him out he'll almost always know. He'll volunteer sometimes if he feels sorry for the professor or if he really, really wants someone to shut up. Is he giving you a problem?’

‘No. But he's very busy being prefectorial and watching the Quidditch tryouts, and I'm very busy being professorial and doing my part to keep Voldemort from gaining any more power and I barely see him. He's avoiding me, actually. I told him to come see me if he ever wanted to talk to me not in the professor-student way, and he hasn't. I'm not going to force the issue because none of the other students have their guardians living in the castle with them, but I'm trying to figure out how to judge his mood from how he acts in class.’

‘The dynamics of that class are off in general. I expected it to get better when Parvati and Seamus came back, but it's worse. They all try very hard to please me, of course, and sometimes I'm tempted to yell at the lot of them to loosen up, but they seem to be on the skittish side. Harry included. The other day before I walked into the room . . . .’ Remus let his voice trail off as several Slytherin sixth years walked past them, nodding begrudgingly to their instructors.

‘The other day,’ Sirius prompted when the coast was clear.

‘The other day I paused outside the classroom. Most of the class was late, but Harry and Hermione were there because they'd been at a prefects' meeting and not at History of Magic. Parvati must have had an appointment with Madam Pomfrey and missed class as well--’

‘Very wise of her.’

‘Yes. But she was waiting with Harry and Hermione, and she mentioned something about having difficulty with their first assignment. Harry's never gotten anything less than perfect marks from me, and he offered to help her. She said that it would take up too much of his time and that would be unfair and uncomfortable because they weren't really friends to begin with.’

‘So?’

‘Two years ago I would have said that made perfect sense, but they were very friendly the day she got hurt.’

‘Is that the problem? She thinks she was hurt because she was with him, like the little Slytherin bitch said?’

‘Sirius!’ Remus looked around wildly, fully expecting someone who would be willing to repeat Sirius' thoughts on his student to the Hogwarts board as well as the Ministry of Magic, the Daily Prophet, and selected Death Eaters. Luckily, he saw no one. ‘Be careful, would you?’

‘I was being careful.’

‘I'm sure.’

‘Do you think that's Parvati's problem?’

‘It could be. It could be that she doesn't want much to do with any of her classmates. It's hard to be a teenaged girl and know that most of your male classmates have seen you naked and bleeding to death.’ Sirius nodded solemnly. He well recalled Remus' own reaction the first time he, James, and the rat had seen one of his monthly transformations-- and they had all been close friends of the same gender. ‘But she's pulling away from Lavender, too. They weren't even sitting together last time I taught them. I believe it's the first time I've seen that happen.’

They reached their destination, and Remus broke away from Sirius briefly to ask the Gryffindor prefects if all was well in Gryffindor House. Not a single major prank had been pulled since he had been given temporary control of the Gryffindors, and he wondered if this was the calm before the storm or a concentrated attempt by his students to keep him at Hogwarts once the crisis died down. Many of his students had dropped not-so-subtle hints that they had no interest in learning from Cynthia Ryan when she returned and would much prefer it if he remained. He knew that granting them their wish was an impossibility, but the existence of the wish did him more good than he cared to admit.

Arriving at last at the high table, Remus discovered that Sirius was holding court, as usual. Sirius had been on his best behavior while teaching classes, knowing that his every move was being scrutinized and that his freedom or his ability to continue to see Harry might depend on the level of maturity he displayed. As a result, he was more loquacious and teasing and just plain silly than ever when he held conversations with non-students outside of class. ‘It's not my fault, you understand,’ he was saying to Professor Flitwick, who was giving him a dubious glance. ‘It's not as if I wasn't watching them, and most of the students in that class aren't capable of that level of transfiguration yet anyway. And I certainly didn't do it myself.’ He turned as he saw Remus approach. ‘You believe me, don't you?’

‘You're a temporary substitute professor. It's only natural that the students would test you. You can't catch them every time.’

‘But they were Ravenclaws. Ravenclaws don't do things like that.’

Remus rolled his eyes. ‘Ravenclaw is the house of the intelligent. I think it's entirely possible that they're just too smart to get caught.’

Sirius made a face. ‘The Sorting Hat almost put you in Ravenclaw, didn't it?’

Remus smiled enigmatically. Among the very, very few things he had deliberately never told his friend was that, when the Sorting Hat had wavered between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw (after a very nearly snide comment about how he would not last a year in Slytherin), he had thought with all his might, Put me with Sirius! They had just met, and at the time Remus had believed himself to be speaking on a whim, but as the years passed he realized that he had been wiser than he knew.

Sirius was made unable to force the issue, if he had had plans to do so, when Severus Snape stalked past them. ‘Still having trouble controlling your classes, Black?’

‘The classroom is bewitched,’ answered Sirius without a hint of teasing in his voice. ‘It might even be sentient.’

Failing to get a rise out of Sirius, for once, Snape moved on.

‘Listen, Padfoot,’ sad Remus after a moment. ‘Switch classrooms with me today.’

‘Why? What did you do to yours?’

‘Can you honestly tell me you think I have time to enchant a classroom?’

‘No, but you've amazed me in the past.’

‘Switch with me, and we'll see if anything odd happens to my classes.’

‘Deal.’ They shook on it.

Remus' first few classes were far from eventful. The Slytherin sixth-years, naturally, were snide and sullen and forced him to take points, but the Hufflepuff third-years were eager and fun to teach. He remembered the group fondly from his previous stint as a Hogwarts professor, and they did not disappoint him. They dawdled as the class ended, laughing and asking him questions, and he was forced to shoo them out to allow the entrance of the class that, had he been less impartial, would have been his favorite.

Dean and Seamus came in first and sat in the front seats, grinning at him. Seamus had been no less rambunctious or quick-witted than usual once he had recovered from the blow to his head. He regularly commented that such a blow might cause a difference in the mental capacity of some, but that that was not an issue with him. Still, Remus knew full well that Seamus had been missing homework assignments and classes at a rate over and above his usual because of debilitating headaches. Madam Pomfrey was confident that the headaches would stop eventually, but while they lasted they were one more physical reminder that hell had begun to ascend.

Lavender wandered in next, looking slightly distracted, and then came Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville in a group. Ron, Hermione, and Neville all smiled at Remus, and he easily returned the gesture, noting that Harry seldom smiled now. Perhaps Sirius should break his resolution not to seek out Harry except as a professor.

Parvati arrived last. She looked strained and exhausted beneath her dark complexion, but she had insisted on returning to class as soon as possible. She had brushed off her injuries even more than Seamus had; she had not missed a single class or assignment even when her instructors, without prompting, had offered her extensions or excuses.

Confident that he had the attention of the Great Eight, Remus began to speak. ‘As you have already heard no fewer than ten thousand times, you will be taking your OWLs at the end of this year. Today you will be getting your first Defense Against the Dark Arts review. This is not to punish you or torment you. This is not because I'm a natural sadist, or because Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall want revenge on you for everything you've put them through in the past four years. This is because I, or Professor Ryan’ on cue, the class scowled at the name ‘need to know where you are weak so that we can help you get the best marks you can. We're going to review some basic magical creatures today, because you learned them with me in the first place and I am of course the best Defense Against the Dark Arts professor you have ever had.’

Most of the class members chuckled and seemed to relax slightly, as the word ‘OWL’ struck a chord of deep panic in the heart of the average Hogwarts fifth-year, but Seamus raised his hand. ‘Yes, Seamus?’

‘Sir, with all due respect, that isn't saying much.’ The class laughed again.

‘Be that as it may, you're going to spend this class being drilled. You have my deepest apologies, but this is a necessary evil.’ Most of the students still looked vaguely frightened; Neville was perhaps a bit more apprehensive than the rest, and Hermione's nerves were obviously tempered by excitement. ‘Don't raise your hands. I'll call on you. Now put away your books.’ The class obeyed. ‘Dean!’ he snapped. ‘How do you convince a kappa not to harm someone?’

‘Throw it a cucumber with the person's name carved on it, sir.’

‘Good. Lavender, where are you most likely to find a Red Cap?’

Lavender still looked groggy, but she replied almost as promptly as Dean had. ‘Northern Europe.’

‘Correct. Neville, in what type of a place in Northern Europe would a Red Cap live?’

‘Er . . . a battle ground. Somewhere where there's been blood spilled?’

‘Perfect.’ Neville looked relieved. ‘Ron. What's the trick to getting past a grindylow?’

‘Break his grip,’ Ron snapped back, and tossed a victorious look at Harry and Hermione. Remus decided that he had best call on Hermione before she gave herself an aneurysm while waiting.

‘Right. Hermione, what finishes off a boggart?’

‘Laughter.’ The class began to suppress giggles; this particular group would never forget its first experience with a boggart.

‘Good. Harry, how does a human become a werewolf?’ Harry looked as if he had expected his professor to save the werewolf question for him, but he did not look as if he minded.

‘When he's bitten?’ Harry sometimes answered questions with a question even when he knew full well that he had the correct answer.

‘Is that the only way?’

‘Yes.’ There. A statement, not a question.

‘Thank you. Parvati, what is dangerous about a hinkypunk?’ Parvati had been working far too hard since her return to classes, and Remus made a point of throwing her a question to which she would know the answer. She had always, if given a choice, written her essays about hinkypunks. Remus had no idea as to why. She was very talented in Defense Against the Dark Arts in general; of course, Gryffindors tended to be that way. It was Ravenclaws, more prone to sliding by on their natural intelligence than to practicing hexes, and Hufflepuffs, who almost never had a taste for fighting or defense of any kind, who struggled.

Parvati was silent.

‘Parvati? What is dangerous about a hinkypunk?’ Remus repeated, bending his knees so he could look her in the eye and see if she had even heard him.

Parvati remained sullen. Remus had decided to give her some slack and hand the question to Seamus when he suddenly had a terrible, horrible thought. He attempted to make the thought go away. You're be paranoid, he told himself. You're looking for a complicated explanation when a simple one is infinitely more likely. But he had to ask.

‘Miss Patil!’ he said in his sternest voice. The other students exchanged stunned looks; they were not used to him scolding his students for not knowing an answer, particularly when he knew all too well what recent weeks had been like for the student in question. Miss Patil, look at me!’ She raised her eyes. ‘Are you Parvati or Padma?’ The class gave a collective gasp.

Remus hastened forward and cupped her chin in his hand. She seemed to be struggling, fighting, not knowing whether or what to answer. ‘Are you Parvati or Padma?’ he repeated.

‘I-- I-- I--’ She managed only one word before bursting into tears.

‘I'm sorry about this,’ he said in as comforting a voice as he could muster before drawing his wand and stunning his student. She collapsed bonelessly into her chair, and he pulled her into his arms and fled the room, pausing to touch Hermione on the shoulder and tell her to act prefectorial and run the class.

Remus had stormed into the nearest fireplace, and warned Minerva that he was coming to see her seconds before jumping through the fire into her office, before he became aware that Harry had followed him from the room. Why? He could not afford to worry about that just now.

‘Minerva!’

‘Remus, what is going on? Oh! Parvati?’

‘I don't think so. Would you mind pulling out that map you confiscated at the end of last year? The work of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs?’

‘Of course. Is she all right?’

‘I stunned her. The map--’ She found it quickly, and Remus scanned the image for his own name. Yes, there he was-- and close by him was Padma Patil.

‘Where are the fifth-year Ravenclaws right now?’

‘What?’

‘Can't you check?’ he asked frantically, wondering why his old professor seemed so disconcerted.

‘Yes. They're in Charms.’

‘Charms.’ There was a dot there, as there should have been, labeled Padma Patil. Minerva had worked out his train of logic, and so saw the incongruity almost as soon as he did.

‘It makes sense now. When I saw Parvati right after she was taken on that field trip, she looked fine. When I looked up, she looked as if she'd been abused for an extended space of time. They must have switched them then, and taken Parvati. The Ravenclaws were one of the first groups sent to the hospital, so a professor wouldn't be there to see Padma gone, and by the time we'd started counting noses again back it Hogwarts they had her under the Imperius Curse and probably using a time-turner.’ He reached for the neck of the limp form he still held, and proved himself right by extracting a fine chain which held an hourglass. ‘She'd been acting like she didn't know anyone in Gryffindor. She was probably trying to fight the curse.’

Minerva nodded. ‘It's far-fetched, but we'll take a chance that you're right. Go to your office, now! You know what to do?’

‘Yes.’ He stepped back into the fire with his precious cargo. Almost as soon as he arrived at his office, he found himself joined by Professor Flitwick, who was floating an unconscious Patil twin along before him with his wand. Harry also arrived, having run from the Transfiguration classroom without the use of fire. ‘Harry, go back to class.’

‘No.’

‘Now, Harry!’

‘No. This is partly my fault, and I want to be here!’ Remus began to reprimand Harry more strongly, but then decided that it was a waste of precious time.

‘Are you ready?’ he asked the tiny Charms professor.

‘When you are,’ replied Flitwick. Together, they revived their students. The Ravenclaw slumped into a chair, and the Gryffindor slid from Remus' arms to lean against him.

‘Tell me who you are,’ said Remus, harshly, to the girl he half-held.

‘Pad- Parvati Patil.’

‘And who is this?’

‘My sister. Padma.’

‘What is this?’ Remus extracted the time turner he had seen moments before, and Flitwick reached around to find a similar device on the other girl's neck.

‘A time-turner.’

‘Illegal, you know.’

The girl burst into fresh tears that washed away the ones that had been trying on her face. ‘I-- I-- I couldn't get my work done. I felt so sick, and scared, after the Death Eaters-- hurt me.’

‘Where did you get it?’

‘I found it.’

‘Professor Flitwick, would you mind calling the Ministry to see if any time-turners have been reported as missing?’ The girl seemed to choke, and quavered unknowingly.

‘Of course, Professor Lupin.’ The tiny wizard moved toward the fire, but turned, his wand drawn, pointed at the girl who had spoken. He began to murmur charms more quickly than most wizards could remember them, and Remus began to speak too, softly, into her ear.

‘Padma, fight it. He can't throw off the Imperius Curse for you. You have to throw it off yourself. Don't listen to the voice in your head. Listen to me.’ His voice grew intense and urgent. ‘Padma. You are Padma. Can you tell me that?’

Her fathomless dark eyes burned as she sought to obey her professor. ‘I'm Padma. I'm-- why are you making me say this? Why are you doing this to me? I'm Parvati! That's Padma, right there! Ask her!’

‘She's almost got it,’ Remus said, directing his attention to Flitwick now. ‘It's not a powerful wizard holding her down. It's a student.’ Back to the shaking figure in his arms. ‘Padma! You can beat this! Padma!’

She shuddered, and Remus was forced to grab her more tightly to keep her from falling. ‘They'll kill her, no, they'll kill her.’

‘Do you know where she is?’ Remus asked, not even asking who ‘she’ was.

‘No.’

‘Do you know who took her?’

‘Them. Death Eaters. Black hoods.’

Remus pointed at the second girl, who was still quiet. ‘Is she your past self or your future self?’

‘Past.’ Padma staggered again, and Remus sat down in the chair behind his desk, pulling her into his lap. Under ordinary circumstances, he supposed he could be fired for cradling a female student in his arms, but she simply looked too fragile to be put down.

‘You've done well,’ he whispered to her. ‘You're all right now. We will get to your sister.’

‘Can they put it back on me?’ she asked in a voice that should have belonged to a child much younger.

‘No. Not without a clear shot, which means I'd see them. Besides, I don't think whoever put this on you did it without help.’

‘No.’

‘Can you tell me what you remember?’

‘They hit me. Burned me. Cut me with a knife. Then they held me on my back so I couldn't see who was pointing the wand at me, they were wearing hoods anyway, but two people were talking at least, it seemed like everyone said, I was so dizzy . . . .’

‘Okay. You don't have to say anything more.’

‘Where?’ She suddenly summoned her strength and sat up, lifting her head from Remus' chest. ‘Where did she go? And Professor Flitwick?’

‘He took her to his office to do a memory charm on her. She'll use the time-turner and become you, and she'll throw off the curse and be free.’

The fire next to them sprang to life.

‘Remus!’ came Minerva's voice. ‘What's happened?’

‘She threw it off. This is the future Padma and she was under the Imperius Cruse.’

‘Do you know who put it on her?’

‘A student, I suspect.’

‘Does she remember?’

‘She remembers the curse, but she couldn't tell who did it. What about Parvati?’

‘We're rushing through old hiding places and contacting potential kidnappers as fast as we can. Since they know we know, they'll have to return her.’

Or kill her, Remus thought but did not say while Padma was still on his lap.

‘Take Padma to the hospital,’ Minerva commanded, and Remus obeyed.

He remained with Padma as Madam Pomfrey gave her potions to drink and tapped her with a wand. Blessedly soon after the examination and treatment had ended, Minerva entered the room.

‘She's in no danger?’ she inquired.

‘No,’ answered Madam Pomfrey.

‘Parvati?’ Remus asked in a low voice, not wanting to be expelled from the hospital wing before his question was answered.

‘We have her.’

‘Is she alive?’ His voice was below a whisper now, even though he was quite certain that Padma was asleep.

‘She is alive. She was tortured, and she's been taken to a hospital, but she is alive.’

‘Prognosis?’

‘Good.’

‘Any idea who laid the Imperius Curse?’

‘No. We can't even find the wand. Whoever it was must have felt her starting to break through and was getting worried.’

‘Perhaps even standing close enough to hear us talking in my office.’

‘You feel that way?’

‘It's just a guess.’

‘Well, they've been given enough time to retrieve it and dispose of it now.’ She sighed deeply.

‘Professors?’ Their conversation was broken by a well-known voice.

‘Potter! What are you doing here? And a prefect, too!’

‘I heard the whole-- when they were making Padma break the curse-- and I knew that the secret passage was right there--’

‘Potter, please tell me you did not attempt to track down the culprit on your own.’

‘I didn't. There were too many places he could have gone. But he dropped--’ Harry held out a short, maple-colored wand.

Remus doubted that Minerva was upset with Harry any longer.

Harry turned to leave, at the orders of Madam Pomfrey, but he threw Remus a smile over his shoulder.