The Resurrection of Sirius

5

Professor Rosenberg

Ron got up the next day and jumped out of bed. He got dressed quickly and ran down to breakfast. Darn it, he was late on the fourth day back! There were only a few people left in the Great Hall, and they were rushing to leave. Ron grabbed a piece of toast and ran to Potions. How had he slept in so late? Why didn't Harry wake him up?

Ron ran as fast as he could, dodging people who would gasp or curse at him. The bell rang just as he sat down.

Snape was going through a pile of papers. After he'd gone through the whole pile, he got up and walked over to Ron's desk. Ron gulped and shivered as the whole class turned to stare at him.

Snape drew a deep breath and said, "Mr. Weasley, would you please tell me what I said about turning in papers?"

Ron's heart sank. "You said to turn them in before class on the day it's due."

"And what did I say would happen if you turned it in after class started?"

"You didn't, sir." Snape raised an eyebrow. "Well, I mean not directly. You only said that if you turned it in late it'd be a zero --"

"And if I said that you were to turn the papers in before class, what do you think I would consider a paper turned in during class?"

Ron blinked. "Late," he said, lowering his head so low that it was almost perpendicular to his body.

"Good. What did I say about late work?"

"That you wouldn't accept it," Ron answered. Why didn't Snape just get to the part where he got in trouble?

"Right. So. I'll let you go with half credit today because it's only the second day of class, but if it happens again..." Snape gave a menacing little smile. "And three points from Gryffindor."

"What? Why?" Harry asked.

"Because, Potter, Mr. Weasley was late."

"What! I was not! I sat down right before the bell rang!" Ron protested.

"Yes, but did you not notice, the bell began ringing before you sat down," Snape said, his eyes glinting.

"But -- but sir! I was fully sitting when the bell finished ringing --!"

"Cool it," Harry said. Ron's eyes flashed, but he settled down.

"Are we finished?" Ron nodded. "Good. Now. This semester we are going to be working a lot with the very few true essences. Last time you made the Essence of True Awakening and wrote a paper about it, so you should be familiar with it. I thought I'd give you all a nice little pop quiz on the essence today." Everybody groaned.

"How long is it?" someone voiced.

"The quiz is a short one, only ten questions. It will be worth twenty points -- two points per question. Anyone who gets less than five questions right must write another paper on the essence, and it must be completely different than the one you've all ready written," Snape said, raising his voice over the groaning students.

"What's his problem?" Harry asked, leaning over to Ron. Ron shrugged.

"Everyone get out a half sheet of parchment and number it one through ten." Snape paused, allowing students to do what they needed to do. "Everyone ready? Let's get started. Number one. What does the Essence of True Awakening do?" The sound of scratching quills filled the room.

"Good grief, if the rest of the year goes like this, I think I'm going to quit," Ron said eighty minutes later as he emerged from the Potions classroom. Harry nodded in agreement.

"Well, at least we have Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Rosenberg to look forward to," Harry said.

"Willow," Ron corrected him.

"Right," Harry said. "Wonder how powerful she really is... I mean, Hermione was so excited about her, you know? She's got to be a really great witch to make Hermione so jealous of us for having her."

Ron nodded. He turned in to the classroom and sat in the front row. Willow was at the blackboard, writing something. He wanted to say something, but nothing came to mind, so he sniffed and got out his books instead. Willow turned at the sound of his sniff.

"Oh hi there, I didn't hear you come in. Ron, right? And you're Harry?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "He's Ron and I'm Harry -- I mean, I'm Ron and he's Harry." He blushed and bent down again, pretending to need something from his bag.

"You idiot," Harry whispered when Ron sat back up.

The rest of the class began filing in, and Willow turned back around and finished writing on the board. When she finished, she sat down at her desk and put everything away. The bell rang, and she stood up.

"Okay class! Welcome back. I thought today that we'd do some introducing. I know it seems kid-ish, but I think it'll help create a more comfortable atmosphere in here, and that always makes it easier to learn. So, we'll start with me and go around the room. I'm Willow Rosenberg, I'm twenty-four, and I'm from Sunnydale, California."

"Er -- I'm Ron Weasley, sixteen and three fourths, and we call my house the Burrow."

"Harry Potter, sixteen and a month, and my aunt and uncle live in Little Whinging."

The rest of the class introduced themselves in a similar fashion, and ten minutes later everyone had been introduced.

"Good. Now, I'm sure there's got to be some questions you have for me, so if you want to ask me, today's the day." Willow smiled around at everybody, standing behind her desk and waiting patiently. A hand went up. "Yes, Ricky, go ahead."

"Is it true Sunnydale got eaten up in to the ground? Only I was in LA last summer and I heard --"

"Yes, that's true. It's kind of a long story... Basically, two years ago the Hellmouth collapsed and Sunnydale was the Hellmouth, so the city was a big crater. Any other questions?"

"What kind of stuff are we going to be learning this year?"

"Well, first we're going to do some reviewing, especially of the Shield Charm --"

"The Shield Charm? That's fourth year stuff!"

"Yes, I know, but a shield is the best thing you can do to defend yourself --"

"But we all ready know the Shield Charm!"

"Now listen, it may seem like we're going backwards rather than forwards, but the Dark Arts is something very powerful and sometimes a shield is the best chance you've got!"

"How do you know how powerful the Dark Arts is? Have you been there?" The person who said this was joking, Ron was sure, but the look on Willow's face was so serious that he felt this was no time for joking. He face was cold and angry, then it lightened up and looked even a little scared.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I have been there. A very close friend of mine, Tara Maclay, was shot. A normal weapon -- a Muggle weapon, as you'd call it -- was used, something called a gun. She was killed and died in my arms, in another friend of mine's bedroom. I tried so hard to bring her back --"

"You can bring people back from the dead?" someone voiced.

"If you're powerful enough, and if you have the right stuff. Anyway, I tried so hard to bring Tara back that I was pulled in to the Dark Arts. I was so wrapped up in them that my hair turned black, and so did my eyes. I was obsessed with killing the man who did it. I did, in fact. I was ready to end the world. I was about to try when a very old friend of mine stopped me."

"Who?"

"His name is Alexander Harris, but we always called him Xander."

"How'd he do it?"

"With love."

"With love?" Ron wondered aloud.

"With love. He told me he loved me. I tried to kill him, but his love for me was so strong that I couldn't kill him. Anyway, it took me months to get over the fact that I'd killed someone, that I'd been evil. The Dark Arts are so incredibly strong. I don't want any of you to even once consider allowing yourself to give in. Even if it means losing someone close to you, don't ever give in to the Dark Arts. That's one reason that Dumbledore has chosen me to be your teacher this year: with the return of Voldemort --" the class twinged at the name, but Harry and Ron became even more interested -- "Dumbledore felt it necessary to teach you the very best Defense Against the Dark Arts. He wanted someone who'd been there, who knew how terrible it was to be evil. He said the best thing about me is that I've seen the best and the worst of magic. So that's why I'm your teacher this year, and that's why I'm teaching you the Shield Charm. Got it?" Everyone nodded, including the kid who was against the Shield Charm. "Good. Okay. Anyone else have any questions for me?" Only one hand went up. "Yes, Harry, go ahead."

"Er -- when you say you've seen the best and the worst of magic -- what do you mean by the best of it? What happened then?"

Willow sighed. "Well... It was two years ago, the day the Hellmouth collapsed actually. It's a long story why, but I had to put a spell on a weapon to give its power to a group of people so they could save the world. The spell I used was very, very strong. I wasn't even positive I could do it, but I had to try. It was so strong that my hair flashed white. You can probably guess what that means, if black hair makes you evil..."

"The spell made you good," Harry said slowly.

"Yes. It was so powerful, and so pure, that it made me pure. Are there any more questions?" Nobody raised their hands. "Okay. Then let's get started on the Shield Charm. What's the incantation? Anybody?"

"Protego," the class said as a whole.

"Good. Now who can tell me the origin of the spell?"

"So, what did you do in DADA today?" Hermione asked during dinner.

"Willow told us about when she was evil," Ron said immediately. Hermione dropped the bite of pork she was about to eat.

"When she was what?"

"Evil! Yeah, she said um... What was it... Oh yeah, she said 'I've seen the best and the worst of magic,' or something like that."

"Wow. I didn't know she was ever evil... I knew she was really really powerful, but I had no idea..." Hermione stared at her food thoughtfully.

"What, thinking of what to name your food there, Mudblood?" Malfoy said as he walked by.

"No, actually, I was just deciding whether I should chuck it at you," Hermione replied simply. Malfoy scowled and kept walking.

"Nice one, Hermione! He couldn't think of anything to say to that..." Ron said.

"How do you know?"

"Because, when they just scowl like that and stalk off, it means you've hit them and they're too stupid to think of anything to say to you. Trust me, I know," Ron added as he grabbed for second helpings of everything.

"Oh." She smiled. "Harry, you've been awful quiet. What's up?"

"Nothing," he said. "I think I know how to get Sirius back." Ron and Hermione stared at him in awe. They didn't need to say anything to make him continue. "I'm going to ask Willow Rosenberg to do it."

6

Conjuring an Idea

"What do you mean?" Ron said. "Willow never said anything about-- oh! Oh!" Ron's face brightened as it dawned on him. "Do you really think she can do it?"

"I'm sure of it," Harry said.

"Sure of what? Harry, what are you talking about?"

"Willow can bring people back," Harry said shortly.

"D'you think she'll want to? I mean, she said that sort of stuff is really difficult --"

"I didn't think of that. We'll have to ask her, I guess."

"Harry, will you please explain to me what you're talking about?" For the first time, she was the confused one and Harry and Ron knew something she didn't. This must be how they felt when she got an idea.

Harry sighed. "Willow said that she once brought someone back from the dead. Or at least she tried to... She never said whether it worked. Anyway, she does know how to bring people back... So I'm thinking maybe she can get Sirius back for us."

"Oh, Harry, no. She'll never want to --"

"You don't know that, Hermione. She's really nice, and she knows what it's like to lose someone she's close to..."

"Yeah, and besides, Sirius needs to be cleared and everything, I mean, he can't die until he's free!" Ron put in happily.

"Yeah, sure. Well, I'm finished eating... I think I'll go to bed..." Harry felt suddenly very tired. He went upstairs to his dormitory and before he could change into his pajamas, he fell on his bed and was fast asleep.

Where was he? The long, dark corridor looked so familiar... No... It was the Department of Mysteries... He was having some sort of vision again... He tried to stop walking, but he only sped up... There were sounds of three, four, five other people's footfalls behind him and their ragged breathing, as if they'd been running for quite some time... Opening the door, Harry stepped into the all-too familiar room with the bright-blue torches on the walls...

"Close the door," someone whispered. Harry realized the voice was his own.

Suddenly, they were in a large, dimly lit room... The floor was sunken and had tiers of benches; at the center of the room was a black veil hanging from an arch on a dais. He was running, and he felt the floor vanish as he tumbled down the rows and rows of benches... He'd done this before!

He was still in the room, but now there were many people in there... He looked around... There was Mad-Eye Moody, laying on the ground and bleeding from the head; Tonks, Lupin, and Kingsley were fighting various Death Eaters; and there was Sirius, dodging and sending Stun Spells to Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry realized where he was: he was reliving that night last June! The night when Sirius had... when Sirius had died.

"Come on, you can do better than that!" Sirius shouted as he ducked a flash of red light; a voice Harry recognized as Neville's yelled, "DUBBLEDORE!"

Instead of looking up, as he'd done in real life, Harry dashed over to Sirius and Bellatrix... A jet of light hit Sirius square on the chest. Sirius' body curved as it fell backwards, toward the veil...

"NOOOOOOOOO!!!" Harry jolted awake, sitting up in a cold sweat. It had to be past midnight.

"What --" someone fell out of their bed, getting entangled in their bed hangings. Opening his own, he saw it was Ron.

"Harry? What is it?"

Harry did not answer right away. He closed his eyes, reliving the last few seconds of his dream. It was happening slower, as if it'd been recorded and was being played back in slow motion. Sirius dodged a flash of red light... Another red flash, and he was hit. Red flash...

"Harry?"

"Ron! Ron, it was a Stun! It was a Stun that hit him! Sirius didn't die, he just got stunned! But he fell into the veil... That's why he's gone! But he's not gone, he's just hidden! He's stuck in that veil!"

"Harry, what are you talking about?"

"Oh, that's right... You weren't there, you were in the brain room..."

"Brain room? Harry, are you talking about -- about that night in the Department of Mysteries?"

Harry nodded. "You weren't there... But when Dumbledore walked in, everyone stopped fighting... Except Sirius and Bellatrix. She was sending Stun spells at him, and he kept dodging them. And then another flash hit him... I'd never thought what color it was, I was too distracted by Dumbledore... But I just dreamt about it, and Ron, it was another Stun spell! He would be okay, but he was right by the veil when he fell and so he fell through it and now he's stuck in there. We can get him out now, I know we can!"

"Oh. Harry... I don't know. I mean, we have no idea what that veil even is. It could be way worse than death, or something," Ron said. "I'm really tired though... I'm gonna go back to sleep. You should, too."

"Yeah, okay... G'night." Harry sighed and layed back down.

The next morning, Harry told Hermione on his idea.

"... and now I just know we can get him back!"

"But Harry..."

"Hermione, you have no idea what this is like for me! You don't know what it's like to lose someone you care about! Or... Do you?" Harry added upon seeing the expression on Hermione's face: she was looking grave.

"No, I don't. But Harry, you've got to understand... If Sirius never really died, then it's a whole different story to get him out! You'd have to be really powerful..."

"Which is why we're going to ask Willow to help us! Hermione, you're really smart, but sometimes you can be a little idiotic," Harry said, grabbing for the sugar for his coffee.

"But --"

"Hermione, shut up. I'm going to ask her to help us bring him back through the veil and that's that. You can support me or not, but I need Sirius here, he's the closest thing to a dad I have."

As the next day was Saturday, Harry would have to wait until Monday to ask Willow for her help. He had no idea how to ask her. How do you ask someone to help you do something when the last time they tried it they went evil?

Maybe the weekend was actually an ideal time to ask her: that way, Harry could explain to Willow in depth the nature of Sirius' death without having to worry about getting to class or a meal. Yes, he'd ask her tomorrow, perhaps after lunch.

Harry walked to Willow's office with Ron tailing behind him.

"So, what're you going to say?"

"I dunno exactly, but I want you to stay quiet, okay? It's just that I know you, and you'd probably say something funny, which is okay, but not right now, you know, a time and place --"

"You're dead nervous, aren't you Harry?" Ron asked.

"How could you tell?" Harry grinned.

"Well, for one thing you were just totally rambling. And your tone of voice, too, like you were trying to say what you were saying faster than you were thinking it or something. But you'd better hide it before we get there, or else she'll think you're kidding or something," Ron added.

Harry was walking so fast Ron nearly had to jog to keep up with him. Harry was walking so fast, in fact, that he walked right past Willow's office.

"Um, Harry? You missed her office," Ron said, having stopped in front of the door.

"Oh. Yeah, I knew that." Harry walked over to the door and knocked. Willow opened the door.

"Oh hi Harry, Ron. Come on in."

Willow's office was as close to looking like a teenager's room as a teacher's office could be: the walls were brightly colored, there were posters of bands on the walls, (although he'd never heard of them -- Harry supposed that they were American Muggle bands) and there was even a picture of a group of people (who looked very much like teenagers) on the wall by Willow's desk. Harry recognized one of the people as Willow.

"Have a seat." Willow pointed to two chairs by the desk. She remained standing.

"What's on your minds?"

"Well, it's... Sort of a long story. Do you have a while?" Harry asked.

"Sure. I was just reading. What's up?"

Harry launched into the whole story, beginning with the dream he'd had about Voldemort torturing Sirius and ending with the dream he'd had last night and his thoughts on it.

"... And I -- we -- were wondering if you could help us with something."

"Well, it depends. What was on your mind?"

"Well, thing is -- well, you know how you said you knew how to bring someone back from the dead?"

"Yes," Willow said slowly.

"Well, I thought maybe you could -- help us bring Sirius back through that veil thing."

Willow thought for a moment. "I'm really really sorry, but I can't."

"Great! Thanks -- what?"

"I said I don't think I can."

"But -- but why? You said you knew how --"

"I do. And I did, once. But it was so, so different. I knew how she'd died, and I had a spell and I knew what to do and how to do it, and most importantly I had the right help. No offense or anything, I'm sure you guys are great wizards, but I don't think you'd be the right help for this sort of thing."

"But Professor, maybe if you told us what to do --" Ron began.

"I'm sorry, but no. This sort of magic is so much more difficult than anything you've done so far. It's way beyond you level, it may even be past my level of witchcraft. That spell I did -- it literally drained me. And besides, I do not want to risk turning evil again. I almost did just trying something simple, and this would be -- I'm really sorry, you two. But I can't."

Harry's heart sank. He'd been so hoping that Willow could help them, it was almost as if Sirius had been back already. But now he was dead again.

"Professor, do you think he might not be dead?" Harry asked.

"I don't know. I don't know anything about that veil. If I knew more about it, maybe I could tell, but I have no idea. I'm really sorry," Willow said again. "For your loss. It's terrible to lose someone like that. There's been three people important to me I've lost by now. One of them I was able to bring back, but the other two..." Willow sighed. "Death is a terrible thing. It's terrible, and it's sad, and it's unavoidable. Everybody dies, no matter how many spells or charms they use, no matter how careful they are. Everybody dies, and it's just a matter of how and when that changes it for people. Your friend, Sirius Black, was unfortunate and I'm sorry. But there's no bringing him back now. I wish I could help." All this time Willow had been standing up, and now she sat down on the bed. "Maybe there is one thing..." This she said more to herself than to anyone else.

"What one thing?" Harry asked.

"No. I can't do that to you."

"What is it, Professor?" Ron pushed.

"I could erase your memory. Not all of it, just your memories from that night." Willow sounded sad, like even the thought of erasing Harry's memory was painful to her.

Harry didn't need time to think. "No. No, I want -- I need to remember that night."

"I hoped so," Willow said. "That spell isn't very difficult, but it can go terribly wrong. It has, in fact."

Ron grinned. "It seems like everything you say there's an anecdote behind it. You wouldn't mind telling us --?"

Willow laughed once. "That one is actually kind of a funny story... Well, a few years ago -- let's see, it would be... Three years ago now. Anyway, three years ago I tried to erase just two people's memories, on one subject. I don't know how, but somehow mine and all of my friends' memories were completely erased, to the point where we didn't know each other or our own names. We all checked our wallets for I.D., but there was one person -- Buffy Summers -- who had no form of I.D. She named herself 'Joan.' Oh, and there was Spike -- he'd stolen a jacket that said 'Made with care for Randy' inside of it. Anyway... Well, it actually wasn't that funny... We all could have died because we had no memories."

Ron half-smiled. "So, how'd you all get them back?"

"My friend Xander accidentally stepped on and broke the crystal that was controlling the spell. But memory is a thing I don't think should be messed with, too. Life and memory are two of the things. I'm really sorry I can't help you," Willow said.

Harry sighed. He was on the verge of tears, and he tried very hard to keep them back -- crying was not something for a sixteen year old, especially not a guy. "It's okay. Thanks, anyway," he added as he stood up. "Come on, Ron. See you Monday in class, Professor."

"Bye," Ron said as he got up and followed Harry.

"Bye guys! Come back anytime. Plenty of anecdotes," Willow added to Ron.

"So, what're you going to do now?" Ron asked as they headed to Gryffindor Tower.

"I don't know. But I have to do something... I can't do nothing."

Harry and Ron walked in silence for a while. When they reached Gryffindor Tower, Harry headed for the boys' dormitories.

"I'd like to be alone for a while," he said to Ron, who was following him up the stairs. Ron nodded.

"I'll just go, um... Find Hermione, then," Ron said.

Harry sat down on his bed and reached under it for his old photo album Hagrid had given him at the end of first year. He opened it to the picture of his parents' wedding. Instead of staring at his parents' faces, Harry looked at Sirius, who was standing next to his father. He looked so happy... So innocent. Harry wished he could do something to bring his godfather back. But his only hope had been Willow, and she said no. Staring at the picture of his dead parents and dead godfather, Harry's eyes welled up with tears. He wished none of them had ever died.

Somehow, his parents being dead was easier to deal with, though. He supposed this had something to do with the fact that they'd been dead for years and had hardly known them when they died. But Sirius died last summer, and Harry knew him.

But Sirius wasn't dead. He was hit with a Stun spell, and it was the veil's fault. Maybe if he tore the veil down, Sirius would be alive. Maybe he could ask Willow to send him back in time, if it were possible without a Time Turner, and save Sirius: he could jump in front of him, and then Sirius could catch Harry before he fell into the veil.

Or maybe he was being stupid. Maybe Willow was right: death happens, and no one can stop it, no matter how hard they tried. It should never be messed with; once someone's dead they're dead. But it wasn't fair that Sirius was dead! It wasn't his time. Bellatrix killed him and she deserved to die.

"Let the dead bury the dead," Harry had read in a book when he was in Muggle schools as a child. If Bellatrix died, Sirius' death would be avenged.

That was it! Harry could kill Bellatrix Lestrange! Or at least torture her and make her sorry she'd killed Sirius. All he had to do was find her. But how? This he'd have to work on...