Rating:
R
House:
Schnoogle
Ships:
Remus Lupin/Sirius Black
Characters:
Harry Potter
Genres:
Drama Alternate Universe
Era:
The Harry Potter at Hogwarts Years
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix Half-Blood Prince
Stats:
Published: 06/18/2006
Updated: 06/21/2006
Words: 113,074
Chapters: 24
Hits: 62,024

Laocoon's Children, Year II

samvimes

Story Summary:
Sequel to Stealing Harry and Laocoon's Children. Harry and his friends return to Hogwarts for their second year, in a world where Sirius Black is free, Lucius Malfoy is a fugitive, and Peter Pettigrew is a force to be reckoned with...

Chapter 06 - Chapter Six

Posted:
06/20/2006
Hits:
2,641

If any Muggles had been paying particularly close attention -- and if Remus' concealment charms hadn't been so good -- a blue Ford Anglia could have been seen lifting off from the car park near King's Cross station, accompanied by an old but serviceable motorbike. As it was, some very odd noises, rather like the shouts of several excited children, were heard soaring over the heads of pedestrians at around eleven-fifteen that September first.

Once they'd passed the cloud cover, with Sirius pulling his riding leathers up around his face and muttering warming charms to keep from getting frostbite, Remus released the charm and saluted out the window at Sirius.

"That was brilliant," Harry breathed, from the honoured front seat. In the back, Neville and Padma were plastered to the windows, staring out, while Draco, trapped in the middle, looked like he was going to be sick.

"All right back there?" Remus asked, adjusting the rearview mirror so that he could see the backseat, as there was little danger of being tailgated at this altitude, except by attitudinous ducks.

"Are you sure this is all right?" Padma asked. "Move over, Harry, I want to see the view from the front."

"Well, so long as we get you to Hogwarts on time, I don't see that it matters how you get there," Remus replied, though he looked a trifle uneasy. "Don't open your windows, we don't want you falling out if I have to make a sudden turn."

"I'm going to dip down every once in a while," Sirius called, "And track the train, all right?"

"Sounds fine," Remus answered. "Remember your concealment charm."

"Where's the fun in that?" Sirius laughed, and ducked below the clouds. Remus sighed and continued north, by the dashboard compass, until Sirius popped up far away on their left, and beckoned them over.

"Found the tracks!" he shouted. "Hit a goose, I'm afraid, though!"

"Beware of falling poultry," Remus muttered with a grin, dutifully signalling before angling the car towards Sirius.

They caught up to the train around twelve-thirty, and having established that it ran through a small Muggle village on its way to Hogwarts, landed just outside the sleepy little town and drove sedately through until they found a place to stop for lunch. Sirius ran across the road to buy a map book, and over fish and chips the two men studied it carefully.

"Now I don't expect the railway line to be on here," Sirius said, "but Hogwarts is here," with a stab of finger on paper, "right, or hereabouts?"

"I think it's a bit more north, really," Remus answered.

"Well, anyway, if we head in this direction we're more or less on the right path. So we don't have to follow the train if we don't want to, and this way we'll get there just as everyone's coming up from the station. Grand entrance," Sirius declared. Harry and Neville cheered.

"Do you think that's really wise?" Remus asked.

"We've already stolen a car," Sirius pointed out.

"Borrowed."

"Oooh, I bet Arthur was furious," Sirius mused. "Hope he got home all right."

"Well, without a dozen children and trunks to chaperone, I imagine he could find a nice quiet loo to Apparate from," Remus said, reassuring himself as much as Sirius.

"Well, anyway, we'll fly northwest, yeah? We can cut across where the train takes a bit of a detour, and we'll pick it up near Hogsmeade again. You lads up for another few hours of flying? And lady," Sirius added hastily, glancing at Padma.

"Can't I ride on the motorbike?" Harry asked.

"Two more years," Sirius promised. Harry sighed. "Tell you what, you take the map, and you can navigate."

"All right," Harry said. "But when I turn fourteen you'd better not have sold the motorbike."

"Promise," Sirius said with a grin. "I'll pay up, I think I've still got some Muggle cash on me -- "

"No using Obiliviate to cheat the pub out of a meal, Sirius."

"I never would, Prefect," Sirius sing-songed, while Remus began to herd the children back towards the car.

The rest of the trip went more or less smoothly, except for the somewhat expected stir-craziness on the part of the children. Trevor also made a spirited bid for freedom that would have ended the career of the world's first skydiving amphibian with a resounding splatter if Padma hadn't caught him at the last minute. They still hadn't found the train tracks again by early afternoon, and Remus breathed a sigh of relief when Draco spotted the familiar spires of Hogwarts castle, almost dead ahead.

"Look down," Remus ordered, as they soared over Hogsmeade. "Pretty little place from the air, isn't it?"

"It looks like a toy village," Padma exclaimed, just before they left it behind and began skimming the treetops of the Forbidden Forest.

"Time-check, Harry?"

"Train ought to be just pulling in," Harry replied. "Look -- there it is!"

The Hogwarts Express was standing empty at the platform, and the carriages that took the students from the train to the castle had just disgorged the last of their passengers as the Anglia flew over, low enough for them to see the surprise on the upturned faces watching them. Remus circled the castle once, looking for a decent place to land, before angling low and flat over the grassy hill just past the Quidditch pitch.

"Seat belts, we're about to land," he announced, and the children had just settled in when there was a resounding thump, and the car skidded to a stop on the grass, leaving a muddy track behind it.

"Not the most comfortable landing, but not bad for a first timer," Remus declared, as Sirius brought the motorbike to a perfect two-point landing next to them. "Everyone out, Hogwarts Mini-Express has reached the end of the line."

A swarm of house-elves appeared almost immediately, screeching in shock at the long streaks of uprooted grass Remus had left behind him while landing. Some of the others took control of the trunks, and had soon vanished with them. Denbigh, head of the Kitchen elves and a particular friend of theirs, started to shoo the children towards the door.

"Masters and mistress are so very late!" he squeaked, all but shoving them in the direction of the castle. "The feast has begun! Minerva McGonagall is in a state, sirs and miss!"

"We can't be that late," Remus said. "We saw them going up as we landed."

"Minerva McGonagall is having a letter special express from a Wheezy," Denbigh continued. "About the bloody flying automobile, she is saying. Mistress Padma Patil is being searched high and low for!"

"Bum, we're in for it now," Sirius said, in Remus' ear. "I didn't think about the Patils. Do you suppose we've caused a national wizarding panic?"

"Sounds about your style, yes," Remus answered.

"I didn't drive the car!"

"It was your idea."

They were passing through the front corridor now, towards one of the side-doorways to the Great Hall. Denbigh put a long green finger to what counted, on house-elves, as his lips, and opened the door just enough for them to slip through. They ended up behind a banner at one end of the Ravenclaw table just as McGonagall, a murderous gleam evident in her eye, began wrathfully calling names for the Sorting Hat.

"Well, buck up," Sirius said quietly. "At least if there's hell to pay we'll take the blame. Reckon you can get to your seats without attracting too much attention?"

"Padma can," Harry said, indicating a nearby empty seat. "And Draco and I ought to be able to. Gryffindor's way at the other end though; bad luck," he added to Neville, who gulped. "Look, there's Oliver, you can ask him to move over."

The two adults watched carefully as the children crept into their seats, while the last of the names were being called. Sirius pointed out Tonks, who had keenly noticed Neville sharing half a bench-space with Oliver; if Dumbledore had noticed, and he probably had, he gave no sign.

The Headmaster was just standing to give his usual welcoming speech, when Sirius' focus shifted.

"Hang on, where's McGonagall got to?" he asked, and Remus followed his gaze towards the high table.

"Look, they're missing Snape, too."

"Maybe the bastard finally got himself fired."

"Maybe he's not quite well yet," Remus said, more charitably.

"Maybe he's waiting to find out why four of his students vanished from King's Cross, only to be seen lunching in the company of two disreputable-looking men and a blue Ford Anglia," said a chilly voice behind them.

"Bugger," Sirius said, with emphasis.

"Maybe he's not the only one," came another voice, this time in McGonagall's distinctive brogue. Both men turned to see the two Hogwarts professors, arms crossed, faces masks of annoyance and, in Snape's case, a hint of smug superiority.

"My office," McGonagall snapped. "Now."

"Aren't we a bit old for detention?" Sirius asked. Her mouth tightened into a thin, hard line. "Right, your office. Just seeing the children safe into the Feast," he added, as they turned to walk down the corridor, towards the stairs.

McGonagall was silent as she led the three men up to her office, and even Snape looked a little nervous about being in a small, enclosed space with an enraged Deputy Headmistress. Once the door was closed, she waved them curtly into chairs, and went to the fireplace, kneeling on it and tossing some floo-powder in. They heard her speak briefly to Sara Patil, who sounded relieved.

"Now that's settled," she said, withdrawing from the fireplace, "I should like to know how two grown men, who give every impression of having finally learned how to behave like responsible members of society, could kidnap four children, steal an automobile, fly willy-nilly across the English countryside, and expect that they'll be able to simply sneak the children into the feast as if nothing had happened?"

Sirius shifted uncomfortably. Remus cleared his throat.

"Well, we didn't exactly fly...willy-nilly," he began. "I mean, we knew where we were -- "

"Not a word to the Patils about where their daughter had gone, not even a note left for Arthur Weasley about that -- that -- "

"Blasted flying car?" Snape suggested, calmly.

"Well, it was the fastest route, and we didn't want the children to be late," Sirius began.

"In that case, Mr. Black, I suggest that next time you get to the platform in a prompt fashion."

"We did try," Remus said, spreading his hands. "The platform portal closed on us. We couldn't very well leave the children there, and flying them seemed the most logical thing to do." He paused. "Now that I come to actually say it...."

"You're supposed to be on my side!" Sirius hissed.

"Do you two actually have any idea how much trouble you've caused? Beyond throwing the Patils into a panic and forcing Arthur Weasley to report his illegal flying car -- "

"He's a very safe driver -- "

"Mr. Black, when I am talking, you are not, is that understood?" McGonagall snapped. Sirius hung his head like any scolded third-year.

"Yes'm," he mumbled.

"We were forced to contact Mr. and Mrs. Tonks, as well, who I may say were less than helpful," McGonagall continued. "Andromeda Tonks in particular didn't seem to think there was anything to worry about."

"There wasn't," Sirius muttered rebelliously. "Good for her."

"In addition," said Snape, in a somewhat silky, predatory voice, "there is the newspaper to consider."

He tossed a Muggle paper onto the desk in front of them. Remus pulled it towards him.

"UFO sighted over Yorkshire countryside," he read aloud. "Well, at least they don't know what it is."

"Nevertheless, several people had to be...handled by the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office, after reporting that this 'alien spacecraft' appeared to highly resemble an antique motorbike."

"Told you to use better concealment charms," Remus muttered, over Sirius' enraged "Antique! It's called classic, thanks."

"What's this nonsense about not being able to get onto the platform?" McGonagall continued. "If that's what inspired this mad and reckless behaviour, I should like to hear about it, considering I have spent my entire afternoon hearing about how Padma Patil has been kidnapped and what I ought to be doing about it."

"We arrived in plenty of time to catch the train," Remus said, slowly, once it became evident he wouldn't be snapped at for speaking. "I even went through, onto the platform. When Sirius and the children didn't follow, I came back out, and couldn't get in again. We thought it was some kind of prank," he added. "We were concerned that the children would miss the Feast, so we took Arthur's car and flew them here. They were never in the slightest danger; the car has excellent child-safety locks."

McGonagall looked as though she'd like to take issue with what was obviously a flippant finishing statement, but Remus had not been a Prefect for nothing; his delivery was deadpan serious, and it was hard to tell if he'd been joking at all.

"Sorry about the lawns," Remus added. "I'll pay for the grounds repairs. And we'll return the Anglia to Arthur, of course."

"It's being impounded," Snape said smoothly.

"What?" Sirius demanded. "You can't -- "

"It is illegal to enchant a car to fly without a permit. Or a driver's licence," Snape interrupted. "Arthur Weasley has neither. It's out of our hands, I'm afraid."

"You bastard, you didn't have to TELL anyone," Sirius snarled.

"Didn't have to tell anyone that you abducted my students?" Snape asked, pushing himself away from the table he'd been leaning on. "I didn't have to inform authorities that they were being carried without their consent hundreds of miles above the air in an illegal flying vehicle? I'm sure that would have gone over well with the Patils. Yes, Mrs. Patil, we're unaware of your daughter's whereabouts, but we suspect she's in a flying Ford Anglia bound for Hogwarts, and we don't think it's necessary to inform the authorities. Brilliant plan, Black, as usual."

"Are we finished?" Sirius asked McGonagall, doing the one thing that could enrage Snape more than anything else -- ignoring him. "Or am I going to have to scrub Professor Snape's chalkboards?"

"The Headmaster," McGonagall said, choosing each word with care, "has intervened on your behalf, and I understand that, seeing as you did escort the children without harm to their destination, other than the impounding of the automobile no punitive measures will be taken. Unfortunately, in my opinion," she continued, "your motorbike is specially licensed, although you will be required to pay a fine for being seen by Muggles, even if you were taken for an alien spacecraft. What these Muggles imagine they're seeing..." She sighed then, and shook her head. "I believe you should be grateful to the Headmaster for his handling of the situation, and to your cousin Mrs. Tonks for certain strings she has no doubt pulled to keep your motorbike licence from being revoked."

Sirius was opening his mouth to say something, probably something stupid, when there was a high-pitched squeal outside, and McGonagall turned to look out the window.

"Merciful Merlin," she said, as Snape and the other two joined her.

Below, they could see the Anglia's landing-tracks, and in the floodlight from a Lumos Maximus charm, several Aurors in a loose circle around the car. A few of them were pushing themselves up off the ground. All four of the car's doors were open, as well as the trunk and hood, which seemed to be bobbing up and down -- rather like mouths, really. One of the Aurors stepped forward, cautiously, and the car --

The car moved on its own, jerking forward, feinting at the Auror, who backpedaled quickly. There was a revving noise, and the motorbike drove itself into the fray, settling firmly in front of the Anglia's front fender. Sirius swore.

"What on earth...?" Remus asked, as an Auror approached from the back of the car, only to be thrust rudely away. The Anglia's tyres squealed in place, throwing up mud, and its headlamps flashed threateningly.

"It knows what's going on," Sirius said. The Aurors had managed to get some kind of net over its hood that was anchoring it to the ground, but the Anglia wasn't going to give up without a fight.

"It's a car, it doesn't know anything," Remus replied.

"Nobody charmed it to do that," Sirius said, as one of the doors thumped an advancing Auror soundly. "Look, it's the perfect defensive makeup -- it can see you coming from any direction with those mirrors, and if it can't run you over it can thwack you with its doors."

"I'm not interested in the biology of the common Muggle car," Snape growled. "Why don't they just -- "

"Look at it go," Remus said, pointing. The Anglia had shaken off half the net, and was now doing circles almost in place, back tyres anchoring it while the front ones rolled furiously. The Aurors took cover from the sheets of mud and water it was flinging up, and the occasional defensive dodge by the motorbike. When a sufficient swath had been cleared, the motorbike's engine revved, and the Anglia took the hint -- off it went, bumping over the grass and occasionally managing to soar a few inches off the ground before thumping down again. By the time the Aurors had regrouped enough to give chase, it was nothing more than a fading pair of brake lights in the Forbidden Forest.

There was stunned silence for a moment.

"Guess it didn't want to go," Sirius said, solemnly. The motorbike's headlamp flashed a few times, proudly, and then went out as it fell back on its kickstand.

***

The Flying Car Incident was the talk of the dormitories that night; Draco, painfully shy in the spotlight, hid in the kitchens until lights-out to avoid the attention of his classmates, while the girls who shared a room with Padma all wanted to know how it worked and if she'd been allowed to drive. There was also a significant amount of talk about dashing Mr. Black and his clever valet Mr. Lupin, and how romantic it must be to soar above the clouds in a blue Ford Anglia. Padma ignored it, for the most part, as she arranged Elmo's jar in a little altar next to her bed and made sure he was comfortably stocked with peppers.

Neville was asked to tell the story over and over again, and while Neville was not a gifted storyteller, it didn't really need much embellishment -- especially after Percy Weasley came up to the Gryffindor common room with news that the Anglia had made a daring solo escape into the Forbidden Forest, and the Aurors had given up the chase. Mr. Black was going to have to pay a very large fine, and in addition pay their father back for the car. Ron said it was worth it, and he wished he'd been late too so that he could go with them, and Ginny said wasn't Harry Potter's godfather cool, and the general consensus was that nobody would ever be as cool as Sirius Black, and of course he was a Gryffindor, because that was the sort of brave, cool thing Gryffindors did.

In Slytherin it was a slightly...different story.

Harry Potter had stolen the glory of the new Slytherin first years, had once again consorted openly with other Houses, and -- most importantly -- had gotten to ride in a flying car, which bred jealousy like nobody's business. The older students envied him and hated themselves for envying him, while the newest students talked unsubtly about how they were going to be the best Slytherin class ever, much better than the last one. Harry finally escaped to the dormitory, where Theo Nott and his hoodlums Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles menacingly while he unpacked his clothes and hid his old soft toy, Frog, in the secret bottom compartment, lest there be talk of Baby Harry and his Stupid Teddy Frog.

The only Slytherin who didn't have some kind of grudge against Harry was, apparently, a small, mousy-haired boy called Creevey, whom all the other Slytherin first-years were pointedly ignoring. Word had gone around that he was Muggle-born, though they didn't use quite so nice a term for it. No-one wanted to associate with a runt who had no family and could not be separated from a camera that was bigger than his head.

The next morning, with the rest of the House sleepy and yawning, was at least a little better; Harry was up before most of them, and was gratified to find Draco and Padma waiting for him in the dining hall for their usual early-morning breakfast. Dora was there too, at the high table, and she winked at Harry over her oatmeal.

"I went past Gryffindor, but Neville said he couldn't find his shoes and I ought to go on without him," Padma said. "Thank you, Denbigh," she added, as the house-elf set a plate of fried bread near her elbow.

"He needs some kind of charm," Draco said thoughtfully.

"Who, Denbigh?"

"No, I mean Neville. Something that just somehow attaches everything he owns to him. There's got to be some kind of 'find-it' spell. How do you lose your shoes?"

"You put them in a very safe place," Neville sighed, hurrying up and sliding onto the bench next to Padma. "Sorry. Is there any sausage -- oh, there it is," he added, helping himself to some of Harry's with a grin. Harry mimed stabbing his hand with a fork.

They were just finishing up their meals as other students began to appear, and they were forced to go their separate ways; Padma took a book out of her bag and began to read at one end of the Ravenclaw table, while Draco joined a group of Hufflepuff second-years who were racing tarantulas. Harry sauntered over to the Slytherin table, sitting near the door so that he could be off once he got his morning owl post and class schedule.

A flashbulb popped just as he sat down, and the world was full of purple splotches for a moment; when his vision cleared he found himself confronted by the Creevey kid from the night before.

"What'd you do that for?" he demanded, reaching out to take the camera from the boy. Creevey jumped back.

"I like taking pictures," he said uncertainly. "And you're Harry Potter, aren't you? I hear you can get them developed so that they move, is that true?"

"Not me in particular," Harry scowled, then grabbed the camera when Creevey raised it to take another picture. "There's no picture-taking in the Great Hall, all right?"

"Really?" Creevey asked, wide-eyed. Harry had no clue whether picture-taking in the Great Hall was allowed or not, but a Slytherin takes his opportunities where he finds them.

"Not at all," he said promptly. "Not in the dormitories either. Might catch someone naked, you know."

"Gosh."

"Or in classrooms," Harry said, handing the camera back. "You take a picture of Professor McGonagall and she'll bite you."

Creevey looked terrified and scuttled away.

"Oi, Potter, didn't you know only fourth-years and up are allowed to terrorise the firsties?" said a voice, and Harry grinned as Oliver passed on the way to the Gryffindor table.

"I thought that rule was about bullying Gryffindors!" he called after Oliver, who offered the two-fingered salute over his shoulder. McGonagall, passing out class schedules by table, caught the older boy by the ear and led him along for a few paces before releasing him.

Owls began to swoop in through the windows, carrying letters, packages, newspapers, magazines, and various other odds and ends for the students. Hedwig landed in front of Harry, looking as though she'd flown all night, and dropped a slim envelope addressed in Remus' handwriting on the table before flapping off to the Owlery. Harry, intrigued, slit it open and shook out a letter and a newspaper article inside.

Dear Harry, the letter read, Good luck on your first day of classes. We're thinking of you. Thought you'd enjoy this article from the early edition. If Sirius ever stops getting into trouble, we'll know he's died. We're home safe -- we took the train -- so write and let us know how you are. Love, Remus.

Harry flattened the folded Prophet article, and began to read.

***

NEWS OF THE NATION -- HOGSMEADE

WP -- Rumours abound that Sirius Black, the last male heir to the Black family legacy and debonair wizard-about-town, has been charged by Aurors with several criminal acts. Sources report that Black has been charged with Operating a Magically Altered Muggle Artifact; Detection by Muggles, Grade Three; and Illegal Use of Muggle Airspace. His companion, Remus J. Lupin, has also been charged with a lesser count of Operating a Magically Altered Muggle Artifact in connection with these events.

If convicted, both men face fines totalling nearly a hundred Galleons, and a maximum of thirty days in Azkaban prison. It is unlikely, however, that Sirius Black, a well-connected man highly capable of paying even the most severe fine, will see the inside of Azkaban Prison anytime soon. Mr. Lupin, facing a lesser charge, may have his case dismissed for lack of evidence, the "uttomobile" having been hidden from Auror detection for the moment. Apparently the owner of the Muggle "uttomobile" involved, Mr. A. Weasley, has declined to press charges of theft.

The department of Magical Law Enforcement declined to comment on the likelihood of locating the uttomobile.

***

"Psst! Harry!" Padma said, leaning back across the aisle. "What're you reading?"

"Nothing," Harry answered, folding up the article and stuffing it into his pocket. "Just a letter from Remus."

"Get your schedule yet?"

"Yeah -- what've you got next?"

"Potions. You?"

"Defence Against the Dark Arts. Astronomy with you, night after tomorrow," Harry answered.

"Telescope partners?"

"Sure," Harry grinned. Padma matched it before turning around to copy her schedule onto a notecard for her pocket.

It was good to be back.