Out of the Books

Chapter 8 - Padfoot

June 1996, the Ministry of Magic

"Come on, you can do better than that," Sirius was mocking his cousin Bellatrix Lestrange.

Fighting against a dozen deatheaters in the Department of Mysteries of the Ministry of Magic, helping to rescue his Godson from the minions of Lord Voldemort - actually doing something - Sirius felt more alive than he ever had for more than a decade.

The long years at Azkaban and the time locked up at Grimauld Place certainly hadn't done anything to improve his fitness, but standing in a fight against his evil cousin Bellatrix Lestrange, he felt the adrenaline rushing through his body. All those reflexes and instinctive reactions - he had trained when he was an Auror - were coming back to him, making him feel young again.

He knew that he was being reckless, playing with a dangerous enemy like that, but he couldn't do anything about it - too much did he enjoy the feeling of finally being free again. Grinning, he shot another hex at Bellatrix, which she dodged easily.

The beam of red light was flying toward him faster than he could react. With eyes widened by surprise, Sirius felt how the curse impacted in his chest. Everything slowed down for him, as his body arched backward and a dull pain spread in his chest from where the curse had made contact.

Knowing what was behind him, and that he could do nothing to regain his balance, Sirius let his gaze fly around the room for one last time. He saw that Harry was looking at him with a shocked expression on his face and locked his eyes on his Godson, trying to tell him with his eyes that he shouldn't worry about him and that he was sorry at the same time.

Then he felt a piece of fabric run gently over the top of his head and a moment later, the horrified face of his Godson had vanished from his view.

Sirius continued falling backwards. The initial shock that he had been cursed by his cousin was replaced by an agony in his chest, which was growing worse with each passing second, so that it was almost impossible for him to catch his breath.

And it was cold. So cold.

It required all of Sirius's strength to get some control over his body back, and while he was still falling - was this fall ever going to end? - he managed to curl into a fetal position. It still didn't help against this terrible cold. It seemed to come from his inside.

Having been influenced for twelve years by the cold and despair spread by the dementors of Azkaban, Sirius instinctly did the only thing that had helped him then - he transfigured into a big black dog.

Padfoot breathed a sigh of relief as the cold feeling decreased, but it immediately turned into a pained whine, as the transformation had only helped against the cold but not against the now unbearable pain in his chest.

The dog shook his head. He had to get out of here. He couldn't let this little scratch get to him. Harry was still involved in a fight on the other side of the veil, and as Sirius still felt quite alife, if really painful, he would fight to get back through this gateway to help his Godson. He would not abandon him.

He turned around to look in the direction where he had come from. And was surprised to see that the veil was only about two meters away from him and stayed at this distance. Wasn't he falling after all? He felt utterly weightless.

Encouraged by the closeness of his goal, Padfoot started to "swim" towards it, but in the same way he hadn't moved away from it earlier, he now didn't seem to get any closer.

Come on, he thought. It's just two meters - two steps, please, Harry, I'll be right back with you. His paddling movements became more and more desperate and the pain in his chest flared fiercely.

Totally exhausted, he had to pause for a moment. His whole body was aching and he felt so weak. Longingly, he stared at the veil, which was so close, yet so far away.

And slowly - ever so slowly - it moved closer. Padfoot blinked. Was he imagining things? He pressed his eyes shut and opened them wide a moment later. Indeed, the veil was barely a meter away from him now.

With new determination, he concentrated hard and willed the veil to move even closer to him. Only twenty more centimeters. Tentatively, he reached out his left front paw. He could almost touch the old tattered fabric.

Suddenly he felt a violent pull coming from the veil and he was catapulted through it ruggedly.

He groaned painfully after he landed hard on his side. I'm back! he suddenly realized. I really did it! His head snapped up to look for Harry.

But Harry wasn't there.

The Department of Mysteries wasn't there.

Padfoot had landed on the bottom of a staircase in an old house. To the left above him, there was a row of letterboxes and a few meters in front of him, there were high but narrow wooden double doors with dirty stained glass windows in the upper parts of the doors. One of the doors stood open and led out into a busy city street.

Padfoot scrambled on to his feet and fought against the dizziness threatening to overwhelm him. After his head had cleared somewhat, he stumbled on wobbly legs towards the doors. Those few steps had already totally exhausted him and he leaned heavily against the doorframe.

He was in London. He was sure of that. Something about this street seemed very familiar to him, but his thoughts were swirling around his head and he couldn't focus on it.

Padfoot looked around at the cars, which crowded the street and the hundreds of people rushing along. Most of them were dressed in summer clothes, as it was a very warm day.

It was daytime? How much time had he spent behind the veil? He and the other order members had rushed to the Ministry of Magic in the late evening.

Padfoot felt another wave of dizziness roll through him and his chest was hurting more than before. Whining slightly, he collapsed in the entrance of the house.

It was then that he heard his name.

"Look, doesn't he look a bit like Padfoot to you?"

Padfoot's head snapped up. In front of him stood a boy and a girl, who he was sure he had never seen before, but who nevertheless looked familiar.

"Be reasonable. How could he be. I'm sure he is just any black dog."

"But he reacted to the name. It must be him."

"If it really was him, he must be ancient, if he was the pet of Dad's best friend at school."

Padfoot shook his head at them and then let it fall heavily on his paws.

The last thing he heard before he lost consciousness, was the girl saying, "He understands us, but look, he's injured. We have to help him."

***

Jack was in a good mood. The weather was gorgeous and he had all the time in the world, as his first lesson was only at twelve o'clock. The children were on a three-day class trip to London and Liz was in London as well to write about the football European Cup, which was taking place in Britain this year.

Jack had awoken fairly early in the morning and had decided to take advantage of the nice weather and use the bike to go to school today.

As he rode along a path past small weekend houses and gardens and felt the fresh but warm air of an early summerday, he was sure that nothing could spoil his mood. He had worked at this school for around ten years now, why had he never before discovered how nice it was to take the bike instead of the car?

He turned around a corner and could already see the big red brick building. Some students were standing in front of the entrance, laughing and talking and clearly enjoying the sun.

Some of them greeted him as he rode past them, and he waved.

He leaned his bike to the wall of the gym, which was attached to the school building and walked up to the staff room, whistling a tune.

When he opened the door, Mrs. Fletcher, one of the English teachers, was rushing torwards him.

"Mr. Pearson," she exclaimed, before he had even taken two steps into the room, "Mr. Carpenter has been trying to call you several times already. He left a number for you to call him back immediately once you are here."

Jack frowned. Jonathan Carpenter was the teacher accompanying the class trip, his children had gone on.

"Did he say why he was calling?" he asked Christine Fletcher.

She shook her head. "No, he didn't, but he seemed quite upset about something." She gave him a piece of paper. "That's the phone number of the youth hostel where you can reach him," she told him.

Jack felt as though an ice cube had settled in his stomach. Did something happen on the class trip? Were Amy and Leo alright?

With shaking hands, he took the receiver of the common phone in the staff room and dialled the number which was written on the paper in front of him.

"International Youth Hostel, London, good morning," a female voice greeted him from the other end of the line.

"Hello, this is Jack Pearson. I would like to talk to Jonathan Carpenter, please," Jack said and managed to keep his voice even.

"Yes, sir. One moment please," the woman informed him and put down the receiver, obviously to get Jonathan on the phone. Jack fought the urge to step from one foot to the other impatiently while he was waiting.

Finally he heard the noise of someone picking up the other receiver.

"Is this you, Jack?" he heard the agitated voice of his colleague and friend.

"Yes, what's wrong, Jon?" Please don't let it have anything to do with the twins, he thought.

"Jack listen, I'm really sorry, but when we went to the British Museum this morning, and when we got there we counted -"

Jack couldn't take this. "Jon, tell me what happened!" he yelled into the phone.

There was a heavy silence. "Leo and Amy are missing, Jack," came the soft and defeated answer. "We noticed two hours ago. We already informed the police. They're looking for them. I'm sure, they will find them, Jack."

Jack fell into the next chair. Why? Why were they missing? Would they just run off by themselves? But two hours! They would be back by this time! Amy and Leo were responsible kids, they wouldn't do something like that. But what if they hadn't left the group on purpose...what if they got lost...what if they were kidnapped...what if...they...

"Jack!" Jonathan interrupted Jack's thoughts, which were growing darker and darker.

"Jack, I also called Liz half an hour ago. She's on her way here. As soon as we have any news, I'm going to call you again, okay? I'm sorry, Jack."

Jack nodded glumly, but then remembered that Jonathan couldn't see him, so he murmured "Okay," into the receiver.

Suddenly, something snapped in Jack's mind. "Wait," he shouted. "I'm coming to London. I'll be there as soon as I can. I'll come to the youth hostel, alright," he told his friend frantically.

"Jack, please calm down--"

"NO!" Jack interrupted him. "I'm leaving right now. See you in a couple of hours." He slammed the receiver down, stood up and rushed from the staff room, ignoring the curious glances from his colleagues.

As he rode back on his bike to his house, he hated himself for using the bike today of all days. Why couldn't he have taken the car? He would already be on the road to London.

Finally, totally sweaty and thirsty, he reached the house. He just grabbed the car keys and a bottle of water before he jumped into his car and started racing to London.

Considering his reckless driving, Jack was really lucky that he got to London without trouble.

A police car was standing in front of the youth hostel and Jack parked his car behind it. He hastily climbed out of the car and was about to enter the building, when he heard someone calling him.

"Dad, wait!"

Jack whirled around and saw Leo running towards him.

Feeling like a huge weight was lifted from his shoulders, he laughed aloud and embraced his son in a bear hug.

After the initial feeling of relief had passed, he released him and looked around.

"Where is your sister, Leo?" he asked anxious.

"She stayed with the dog. He is injured and we have to help him!" he answered, speaking very fast.

Jack stared at his son, "What?"

"Amy and I found this big black dog. It looked the way you had described Padfoot and it was injured --," Leo started to explain.

Jack, whose nerves were extremely tense already, lost it. "I WAS WORRIED SICK ABOUT YOU, AND YOU JUST RAN AWAY FROM THE GROUP FOR SOME STUPID DOG!!!"

"Jack, I thought, I heard you shouting outside," Liz was coming out of the building, Jonathan right behind her.

"Leo, were have you been? What happened? Where is Amy?" she asked, while she flung herself on her son. Leo hugged her back while he glanced uncertainly around her at his father. Never before had he heard him yelling at him like this.

Leo entangled himself from his mother's embrace.

"Mum, Dad, I have written down the street, where Amy and I found Padfoot and where she is waiting with him. Lets go there now and I explain everything in the car," he said far to seriously for a twelve-year old, and gave them a crumpled piece of paper, which was damp from sweat, with the name of a street on it.

Jack and Liz shared a glance, then nodded. They knew where this street was. Jonathan looked at each of them, then nodded as well and went back inside to take care of the rest of the class and inform the police officers that they had found at least the missing boy.

Once all three of them were sitting in the car, Leo's parents were looking at him expectantly to start explaining.

Leo cleared his throat, a bit nervous, and began.

"You know, last year, when you told Amy and me about the marauders, we had a feeling that you didn't tell us everything. So Amy and I decided, that we wanted to be exactly like the marauders, and that they - I mean you - oh, you know what I mean -" he ruffled his hair in a gesture which he had obviously copied from his father.

"Anyway, we thought that the marauders wouldn't leave a mystery like this unsolved, would they? So we started investigating what you were not telling us, just for fun. We didn't find out much, until two weeks ago, when we found this London map in which you marked some places red."

Jack and Liz glanced at each other. They had marked all the wizarding places of their own world in the map.

"We thought the class trip would be the perfect opportunity to check out some of these places," Leo continued, "and today we were quite close to that point which was marked on the map with M.o.M., so we left the group to look what that was. Honestly, we just wanted to take a look and then get back. But then we saw this big black dog in the entrance of one of the builings around the place, and when Amy told me it looked a bit like Padfoot, it suddenly looked up, as if that was really its name.

"Anyway, the dog seemed badly injured and passed out, while we were still deciding what to do with it, so Amy stayed with it and I came back to the youth hostel. I'm really glad, that you were already there..." Leo ended his story.

Jack and Liz looked at each other and there was a hint of fear in their eyes. Leo and Amy had found this dog at the place, where there was the Ministry of Magic in their own world, and it had reacted to the name Padfoot. That were too many coincidences. What if it was really true, and Sirius had come to their world? Sirius had died.

They finally reached the square where Leo had left Amy and Padfoot. Jack parked the car on thepavement. He didn't care about recieving a parking ticket.

Leo and his parents climbed out of the car and walked over to the building where Leo and Amy had first found the big black dog.

Leo opened the right of the double doors as he showed his parents the way - and stopped abruptly, as he saw the hallway deserted. "They are gone," he exclaimed worriedly. "Where are they?" he said more quietly and his voice was trembling slightly.

"I'm sure, they can't be far away," Liz tried to calm her son down, but sounded far less confident than she would have liked to. She glanced at Jack, who was looking around in the empty hallway, as if trying to find a niche where his daughter could be hidden. Then he turned around to his wife, the fear on his face barely concealed.

But before he could say anything, they heard steps coming down from the stairs of the old house and only moments later, Amy came into view.

"Amy, where have you been?" Leo cried out in relief. "Where is the dog?"

Before she had the chance to answer, she was already hugged fiercely by both of her parents. "Amy, we were so worried about you," said Liz with a choked voice as she held her daughter tight.

After allowing her parents to hold her for a few more moments, she struggled free. "Mum, Dad, has Leo told you about the dog already? We think it's Padfoot. He reacted to the name," the words jumbled out of her mouth excitedly.

"Where is it now, and where were you?" Leo interrupted his sister.

"When I was sitting here, with Padfoot on my lap, this old woman who lives here walked past me and asked me, what was wrong with the dog. Then she called the vet and we brought Padfoot into her flat. Mrs.Winter bandaged his wounds - he had a really nasty burn on his chest - and put him into warm blankets. Now the vet must be here any minute," she explained.

Jack took a deep breath. Both of his children were so excited. Didn't they understand, what he had been going through today, because he was so afraid that something had happened to them. Liz interrupted his thoughts. "Why don't we go up and meet this Mrs. Winter and Padfoot?" she suggested.

Everyone agreed and so they climbed the stairs to the second story of the building, where the door to Mrs. Winter's flat stood a crack wide open. Amy knocked on the door and called out, "Mrs. Winter, my parents and my brother are here now."

"Please come in," a warm, alto voice invited them in the flat. Mrs. Winter was just coming out of a room at the end of the corridor of her flat. She was a tall but sturdy woman in her mid-fifties. Her dark brown hair was streaked with grey and her brown eyes twinkled, as she greeted Jack, Liz and Leo. "So you are the parents and the brother of this great young lady. Please, come in. The dog is in the living room, we are just waiting for the vet."

Amy was walking quickly into the living room and impatiently pulled her mother with her. Then she let go her mother's sleave and knelt down next to the dog. It seemed to be sleeping peacefully under a red and blue blanket. She gently stroked his shaggy head.

Liz looked down at the dog. He certainly looked a lot like the transformed Sirius, but as far as she could see, he was much thinner and his fur was quite mangy.

She knelt down next to her daughter and gently patted the dog's head as well. Then she looked up at Jack, who had now also come into the living room. He had an expression of disbelieving shock on his face.

"Lily," he whispered hoarsely, "It really is him."