Bottled

BOTTLED

Shattered Glass

"Out! Out!"

The grungy drunk warlock who didn't want to leave her pub even at one in the morning stumbled down the steps after having been pushed. He turned with a frightening scowl on his ugly face, but she only put her hands on her hips and pointed a finger warningly.

"If you ever come back, I'll make sure the Aurors come and take you!"

Not that she didn't know the Aurors had other important matters to attend to than a slobbering man, but still.

Before he could say anything else, she slammed the door forcefully so that the wooden panels rattled, hastily locked the many bolts and leaned back against it, breathing heavily. And then, not wanting to waste another moment, she rushed around the room, securing the latches on the windows and drawing the curtains closed so that they left no dangerous partition.

Finally. She was alone.

But despite all the precautions she had taken, she still didn't feel safe.

The silence only seemed treacherous, for when was a war ever silent? And that numbing cold, that persistent chill in the air even without the dementors around... It was eerie, and she shivered, pulling her robes more tightly to her body.

But no matter. She might not feel safe, but she was safe. She was free to live through another day.

During times like this, every single moment was counted--and counted.

Carefully, she stepped up the first rung of the staircase to her room, like she was afraid of what an unnecessary creaking could do. Her white hand gripped the banister as she took a second step.

Something pounded on her door.

Rosmerta froze, paling. As long as she didn't make any noise, she can fool her unexpected visitor that she was already asleep or was in no state to welcome guests at an ungodly hour. She held her breath.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The knock's insistence frightened her... And yet, if they were Death Eaters, they wouldn't be so polite as to ask permission to enter, would they?

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Retracing her steps on tiptoes, she reached the door and slowly unlocked it with her left hand while her right held her wand aloft. She swung the lever down and dragged the door open.

A loud gasp took her breath away for the moment.

Standing on her doorstep was a gigantic, shaggy black dog...

*******

... and a handsome, golden-brown stag who was carrying a fat grey rat on his back. Standing completely unperturbed beside them, like it was natural for him to be in the company of an assortment of animals, was a thin teenage boy with sandy brown hair and blue eyes. On his arms were jagged scratches, some of which still looked fresh, and yet she would recognise him anywhere.

"Remus Lupin!" Rosmerta exclaimed, pulling him inside by the hand. The dog and the stag--and consequently the rat--attempted to follow him, but she made a move to close the door in their faces.

"They're my friends," Remus said quietly. "Please let them in as well." The dog wiggled his tail, and the stag puffed its chest even more proudly while the rodent did a little dance atop its back.

The barmaid looked sceptical, but she let them in anyway. The moment she had closed the door, she swivelled to face the boy, hands on her hips.

"Mind telling me what this," she said, glaring at him, "is all about? Wandering outside school out of hours in these dangerous times! You know there've been killings, you know the Shrieking Shack is haunted--"

A bark that strangely sounded like a laugh came from the mutt.

"Do you think rounding Hogsmeade with this furry lot will help keep you safe?" She ignored a tiny squeak from the rat and continued to cower over Remus. "Come to think of it, how did you sneak out of Hogwarts in the first place?"

The mischievous smile that appeared on Remus' face unnerved her, but before she could blast the boy for being too cheeky out of place, the large dog pounced on her. Rosmerta yelped as she struggled to regain her balance and did so by grabbing hold of a chair.

"You--you--Ugh!" A long, slobbering pink tongue had just swiped across her cheek; she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to throw the dog off her, but it merely licked her another time.

And then suddenly, it wasn't hairy anymore. It was smooth and warm and hard and in panic, she snapped her eyes open only to look straight into gleaming grey crystals.

"Sirius Black!" Rosmerta shrieked as she tried to sit up. The boy sprawled atop her got to his feet--there were only two now, thank Merlin--and, with a smirk on his face, extended a hand to help her up.

She simply stared at him with mingled suspicion and wonder for several moments. "You're an... Animagus," she said weakly.

"Very astute," Sirius countered amusedly as he wriggled his free hand to get her attention. She pointedly took hold of it, grumbling.

"Thank you," he teased once more, and she couldn't anymore fight the big smile that spread over her face. Merlin, this young man did have a talent for charming members of the female population, and she was no exception, ahead in years though she be.

Brushing her fingers self-consciously through her golden curls, she shifted her attention to the other two animals and then back to Sirius and Remus.

"Don't tell me.."

The rat hopped off the stag's back. In the blink of an eye, both started to shoot taller. The rat's tails and whiskers disappeared into a podgy body while the stag's antlers shrank into an alarmingly normal human head with glasses. It took only another split second for Rosmerta to recognise--

"James Potter," she breathed.

"The one and only," the messy-haired boy acknowledged, grinning.

"And Peter Pettigrew."

The smaller boy beamed at the expression of surprise on the barmaid's pretty face. "Hello, Rosmerta."

"Not to break this cosy, tear-jerking reunion or anything, but now that we all know each other," Sirius quipped, "can we finally have a drink?"

A ghost of a smile flitted across Rosmerta's lips as she remembered how the fierce glower she had prepared crumbled into laughter. Of all the students that had passed through the doors of The Three Broomsticks, these four boys were, without doubt, the ones she'd be most hard-pressed to forget.

It's a pity that... Her train of thought halted as she felt the cold wind whip her face. The entrance to her pub had swung open once more, and on any ordinary Hogsmeade weekend she would have thought they were students, but after last week's dementors she had grown to dread each creak of the door.

Rosmerta sighed and rubbed the soles of her feet before slipping them back into her turquoise heels. She stood to approach the newcomers, who had immediately been seated by one of her younger assistant, but stopped in her tracks. The pinstriped cloak and bowler-shaped hat worn by one were enough to tell her that it was Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic. And yet she held herself back. She watched from afar as the brown-haired maiden took their orders while an invisible hand scribbled them on the parchment that hung above the counter.

Deciding that it was up to her, the owner of the pub, to prepare the drinks of this distinguished company--for she now saw Hagrid and Professors McGonagall and Flitwick--she set about filling them as quickly as she could and afterwards sauntered over to them with the tray.

"A small gillywater--"

"Elderflower wine--"

"Mine," Professor McGonagall said.

"That's me!" James said cheerfully, taking the glass from the tray and lifting it to his nose to take a sniff. "Hmm. Smells like home."

"A tankard of mulled mead--"

"Two bottles of butterbeer--"

"Ta, Rosmerta," Hagrid said.

Peter bobbed up and down in his seat to get his hands on both at once.

"Cherry syrup with soda--"

"Just plain hot, soothing tea..."

"Mmm!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed.

Remus smiled in thanks as he took it. "I really need this after last night."

"So I guess you'll be the red currant rum, Minister," Rosmerta finished, setting his drink down in front of him.

"And what a surprise," she said, turning to Sirius. "Ogden's Firewhiskey. Are you sure you're all right?"

"Thank you, Rosmerta, m'dear," Fudge said. "I must say, you're looking quite lovely these days. Seat with us, why don't you."

"Stunning, thank you," Sirius answered cheekily. "Just as stunning as you are." He winked at her, and she was positive she'd turned pink. He quickly downed one shot of Firewhiskey and smacked his lips. "Aah. Nothing like a good spirit to celebrate the good times." He poured himself another one.

Her cream must've done wonders again. "Thank you, Minister." She sat primly in an empty chair and asked, "So what brings you here to the village?"

"What else, m'dear," Fudge said with a frown, "but Sirius Black?"

She should've known better than to ask.

"We were bored," the aristocratic young man explained, "and you're fun. So we're here."

"Didn't you hear what happened during Halloween?"

Rosmerta shook her head to clear his voice from her mind and attempted to focus on the question. "I, uh, heard a rumour." Just a rumour, she reminded herself stiffly. He couldn't actually have done that, slashed a student's curtains to try and kill him. He couldn't have...

"But how did you get here?" she asked the boys persistently. "Extreme security measures are being enforced, and the castle is doubly protected."

Sirius shrugged nonchalantly, although the exaggeration in his gesture suggested a swagger. "Sure, those make things more challenging. But I can still break into and out of any place I want--"

"And get away with it," James finished for him with a chuckle.

"Exactly," Sirius agreed, raising his glass for toast. "Can things be any greater?" He crowed and slapped James's palm in a high five. "Let's drink to that!"

He was right, Rosmerta realised with a jolt. Now he had done the unthinkable, something nobody had ever done before: escape the inescapable. And despite herself, despite the gloom and panic that his breakout had caused in the Wizarding world, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride at his cleverness. He really was brilliant. Rebellious, yes, but brilliant.

Rebellion...

"I should cuff you in chains and haul you back to Hogwarts," Rosmerta admonished. "Great times? There's a Dark Lord on the rise!"

James snorted, and Sirius actually laughed. "Lord? He is no deity! He's just a closed-minded, dark arts-loving fool with an obsession for the purity of blood." He laughed a second time, a more sinister one. "Not any more different than my family, if you think about it."

"And they definitely are mortals," Remus chimed in.

Lower mortals," Sirius emphasised. He trained his eyes on her, cold and grave now. "My parents think my brother's a right little hero for joining Voldemort--"

"Don't speak his name!" Rosmerta shushed.

Sirius glared at her. "I do not fear him," he said defiantly. "The moment I get out of Hogwarts, I'm going to jump right into Auror Academy and be one of those to fight him." He grinned and leaned back in his chair, seemingly relaxed all of a sudden. "It should be one great adventure."

Could he really have heartlessly murdered those thirteen Muggles? Could he have done so without even flinching?

Muggles saw him, she reminded herself. He turned his wand on those poor Muggles without any second thoughts. He's a Death Eater... He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's right hand, they say.

And yet...

"Did you know," she murmured thoughtfully, almost to herself, "of all the ones to go to the Dark side, he was the last I'd have expected. If you had told me what he'd have become, I'd have said you had too much mead."

There was a grim silence, and Rosmerta was almost sure the professors were all thinking about him as a youth as well.

"You haven't heard the rest of it," Fudge said in a low voice. "The worst he did isn't widely known."

Her eyes widened. "The worst?" she whispered, her pulse racing. "Worse than murdering those Muggles, you mean?"

"You said you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta. Do you know who his best friend was?"

"That was what I was planning to do too," James said. "Be an Auror." A sly smile parted his lips. "You know, live up to the family tradition of being a blood traitor and of being a Gryffindor."

The other black-haired boy elegantly arched one brow and ribbed, "Yeah, right. You merely copied me."

"Of course I didn't," James denied vehemently.

"Did."

"Didn't."

"Did."

Rosmerta rolled her eyes at the boys' immaturity.

James threw a crumpled piece of tissue at Sirius. "Fine," he said in mock resignation. "I did."

"Thought so."

"Only to protect your backside."

Sirius scowled but retaliated by saying, "Now I understand. It's quite a shame to lose a rather gorgeous backside, come to think of it."

The others laughed, and James ruffled his messy hair. "More good-looking than the face, as I see it."

Sirius slammed his glass on the table in feigned indignation. "Continue in that note, Prongs, and you'll lose yourself a best man."

Rosmerta tilted her head to one side and considered the bespectacled boy. "You're going to marry Lily Evans?"

"Only after I've completed my Auror training," James told her briefly before jerking his head towards Sirius in challenge. "Don't sweat over it," he said coolly. "Remus is very much capable of standing by my side."

Remus' lips quirked upwards in a barely concealed smile, and Sirius shot him a look of venom. "I don't doubt that will be easy, considering he has two feet, but you've got to admit that it won't be the same without me."

James was about to snigger but caught Sirius' steady gaze, and he knew his friend has stopped joking around. "Of course, Padfoot. We are best mates."

Sirius smirked. "Good decision," he said. "Now all you'll have to worry about for the wedding is Evans."

"Naturally, naturally," Rosmerta responded with a fond little laugh. "Never saw one without the other, did you? Ooh, the number of times I had them in here, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!"

"Precisely," Professor McGonagall said. "Black and Potter, ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course--"

"You would have thought the two were brothers," Professor Flitwick opined. "They were inseparable!"

That they were, Rosmerta reflected, making their minds up to join the war and fight together. She half-listened as somebody in the group recounted how James had trusted Sirius beyond belief, having him stand not only as his best man during his wedding but also as godfather to his first son. And then somewhere along the story, just as she known it would, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named came into play: how much he had wanted to kill the Potters, how Dumbledore had advised them on using the Fidelius Charm and on making Sirius their Secret-Keeper...

"And then, barely a week after the charm had been performed..."

No! The horror of knowing the impending doom hit her. "He betrayed them?"

"That he did," Fudge said heavily.

Her chest suddenly felt too small for her heart, constricting and causing her pain. She had not known; she had mourned for the boy when she had learned of the news that he had been sent to Azkaban and that his friends were dead, but to discover that he was the one behind it all... She felt like grieving all over again. So Sirius had betrayed James, even after all they've been through. It was his family he was loyal to, at the end of all things. He was a Black.

"But the Ministry caught up with him the next day, didn't it?" Her voice trembled. "You still got him!"

"Alas!" Fudge exclaimed bitterly. "It was not us, but Peter Pettigrew, another one of Potter's friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, he went after Black himself."

Rosmerta wanted to cover her ears with her hands and never hear anything about them again. Sirius had killed Peter as well, had laughed crazily even after taking the lives of so many people, had been sent to Azkaban to be punished for his crimes... And yet he didn't feel any remorse. He had broken out of prison and was free to kill again.

He had been wearing a mask all this time, Rosmerta thought with a shudder. I never knew him, not at all.

"Goodness, he isn't planning to rejoin You-Know-Who, is he?" she asked.

Fudge looked uncomfortable as he fidgeted with his tie. "I daresay that's his eventual plan. But we plan to catch him long before he finds him, however."

"I think we should be leaving," Remus suggested when he saw that it was already three in the morning. "We've trespassed on Rosmerta's hospitality long enough."

"You should listen to him," Rosmerta said with a nod. "Go back to school and get some sleep."

Sirius shrugged. "That's fine. We can leave and move to another place." He and James shared a secret look that had Peter giggling and her fuming--or at least try to. Sirius tasted the last few drops of his drink and gave Rosmerta an affectionate hug before standing up. "Thanks, Rosmerta. We'll see you soon."

The other boys briefly hugged her as well before trudging, albeit quite shakily, towards the door. She followed them and instructed Remus, "Take care of your friends. Looks like you're the only one sober now."

James quirked one brow. "I'll show you sober, Rosmerta." Without another word, he had transformed into a majestic stag; Peter had scrunched his face up and turned into a rat, and Sirius was back into being a large, black dog. She watched in fascination as James picked Peter up and put him on his back and trotted into the darkness.

"Bye for now," Remus said, following him.

Sirius raised one of his front paws and patted her hand as though in goodbye before trailing after his friends. Just before he vanished into the night, Rosmerta had the intuition it would be very difficult to see them like this, together and carefree, ever again.

You won't find him, Rosmerta said in her head. He's an Animagus, sly as a dog. She almost laughed aloud at the pun. She should tell the Minister right now just what they were dealing with so that they could catch him and deal him the justice he deserved.

"We'd best be getting back at Hogwarts, it'll be time for the feast soon." Sounds of scraping chairs filled the air as the four stood up. She looked up, opened her mouth to address the Minister, but her voice failed her. Or was she perhaps cowardly that she didn't want to have anything to do with it anymore?

"Take care of yourself, m'dear," Fudge said kindly before bowing and leaving with the others. "And if you've any sighting of Black, inform us at once."

*******

Her breathing hitched.

A shaggy black dog that metamorphosed into a man the moment she had clamped her hand to her throat.

"Sirius Black," Rosmerta gasped, taking in his longish hair, hollow cheekbones and sunken eyes.

"Can I come in?" he requested, although she did not doubt he would not accept any answer but the affirmative. She opened the door more widely and ushered him in, locking it at once.

Rosmerta swallowed hard. "They've never caught you, have they?"

Sirius snorted. "It might've escaped your notice, but I've always been elusive."

"I know why," she said, a sudden rage bubbling inside her. "You're on the run because you killed Lily and James Potter..." She saw him pale and clench his jaw.

"You don't honestly believe that, do you?" he asked, almost pleadingly. "I'm innocent."

Rosmerta didn't answer, and Sirius smiled without humour. "It doesn't matter," he said in a low voice.

He sat down without her invitation, looked around and remarked, "It hasn't changed much, this place. And you too." For a moment, his grey ice flickered warmth.

"I remember the last time we were here," he said tentatively.

"I remember as well," Rosmerta replied softly.

Sirius smirked, and although it didn't have the glitter of old, it was still him. "I know you do, or you wouldn't have recognised me on your doorstep." An expression of wistful longing restructured and deepened the lines on his face. "Those were good times then. Great times, even in the midst of war, because I had friends." He jolted himself out of his reverie and said, "I need a drink, Rosmerta, to celebrate the years gone."

"Ogden's Firewhiskey." It was murmured, but then Sirius heard it and grinned, and all the years slipped into nothingness.

So I did know him.