Chapter Three
Remus picked up the two letters from the floor of his apartment from where they’d been left by an owl in the night. Sirius was still asleep, curled up in the bedroom under a heap of blankets. Remus noted that the first was on official Hogwarts stationery and opened it. It was very short, just informing him that the Weasley’s house had been prepared and if he and Sirius could go pick Harry up, he’d much appreciate it.
Remus smiled and put the letter on the bed next to Sirius for him to find when he woke up. The second letter was from Hermione.
Dear Professor Lupin,
I’ve spoken to Harry. He’s not in precisely bad health, but they’re keeping him locked in a cupboard and are only feeding him once a day. They’re also burning all his letters. I’m sure he’d appreciate a rescue, so please let Sirius know.
Hermione Granger
Remus made a face, tossed the letter in the fireplace, and burned it before Sirius could see it. They were going to go get Harry regardless, so he didn’t think Sirius needed to go in any more angry than he already was. Hermione definitely had an evil streak where people she didn’t like were concerned.
Which he supposed made sense. If she had only been studious, she would have wound up in Ravenclaw.
He went out to the kitchen to make breakfast, hoping that he’d be able to convince Sirius to eat before leaving.
Sirius blinked awake a few minutes later and stretched, still unused to having room to do so. One of his hands hit the letter and he frowned, fumbling to open it in the dim light from the curtains and the night light that was still glowing.
Remus glanced up as Sirius bounced into the kitchen, wearing only flannel pajama pants. “We get to go get Harry!” he announced, waving the letter around in the air. He took the mug of coffee that Remus offered, then said it again.
“In that?” Remus asked, raising an eyebrow at Sirius’ somewhat less than clothed state.
Sirius blinked. “Well, no.”
“Then let’s have some breakfast and you can get dressed, and then we’ll go get Harry. I sincerely doubt that a few more hours is going to cause any permanent damage.”
“You don’t know that,” Sirius replied.
“Sit down and eat, Sirius.”
Sirius pouted and sat. He shoveled in the food as fast as was humanly possible, then gulped back the mug of coffee. Remus had mixed some cocoa powder into it. Sirius often needed chocolate in the mornings, due to his bad dreams. “All right, let’s go,” Sirius said, and bounded into the bedroom to get dressed.
He yanked on a pair of old jeans and a T-shirt, then pulled his robes on over them. He was too lazy to secure them around the front, so they flapped around him as he walked. Remus was looking scruffy but neat as usual. “How shall we go?” he asked.
“Well, I don’t think we can Apparate,” Remus said. “We’ve never been there before, and we can’t just Apparate to Harry because of all the charms and protections on the house. Let’s just fly. Discreetly.” He poked Sirius in the ribs. “You remember how to be discreet, right?”
“If I try really hard,” Sirius replied.
One hour later, they landed (discreetly) a few blocks away from Harry’s house. They walked the rest of the way, not caring about the funny looks they got from a) their robes, b) their somewhat dishevelled state, c) their brooms, or d) the fact that they were holding hands.
With an expression that approached evil glee, Sirius went up to the front door and knocked. Remus rolled his eyes and stood just slightly behind him, propping their brooms up against the house.
There was a pause because the door opened. Uncle Vernon glowered at them. “What do you want?” he asked. “You’d better not be selling anything. It’s Sunday, for bloody hell’s sake.”
“Actually, I’m here to retrieve my godson,” Sirius said, with that grin of his that was just left of sane.
The effect of those words was rather remarkable. Vernon turned a rather sickly shade of pale green and took a few steps backwards, stammering unintelligibly. “You see -- thought he was -- that you weren’t -- only a prank -- you -- er -- ”
Remus sighed. “Where’s Harry, so we can go?” he asked, not wasting time on terrorizing the man.
“What have you done to my godson?” Sirius thundered, starting forward. Vernon meeped and continued to back away. He backed right into Petunia as she came into the front hall to see what was going on. “Where is he?”
“Sirius,” Remus murmured, his hand closing around Sirius’ wrist. “Try not to scare the ever living daylights out of them. Much.”
“If they’ve hurt Harry . . . or even made him upset . . . I will live up to my name as a convicted murderer,” Sirius said softly.
“Sirius?” The rather muffled voice came from the cupboard that Sirius was now standing even with. Sirius’ head whipped around and he blinked at the cupboard door. Remus groaned. “Is that you?”
Sirius pulled the handle to the door, and it caught. He quickly located the lock and undid it, then opened the door. Harry was sitting Indian-style on the bed, looking surprised. Sirius debated between hugging Harry and killing the Dursleys, who were now cowering in a corner.
“Hallo, Sirius,” Harry said, with a pleasant smile. “Hermione didn’t tell me that you’d be coming. She’s sneaky sometimes.”
Sirius reached into the cupboard and pulled Harry out, into a hug. “How long have you been in here?” he asked sternly.
“Uh . . . since this morning,” Harry said quickly.
Sirius looked at him, then into the cupboard. He made note of the bed. The trunk. The caged owl. He looked back at Harry.
“Either that or all summer,” Harry corrected, looking shifty-eyed.
Sirius looked back at Remus, still keeping an arm around Harry’s shoulders. “Could you get his trunk and Hedwig? I’m going to cram the butterballs in there and see how they like it.”
Remus eyed the cupboard. “They’ll never fit,” he observed. “Not with that bed in there.”
“Then take the bed out.”
Remus considered this. “Yes, all right,” he said, starting forward. He shrank the bed to roughly the size of his fist, then placed it on a shelf. “Harry, I’m going to shrink your trunk, too, for easier carrying.”
Harry nodded, watching the proceedings in interest. Remus shrank his trunk, then put it in an inner pocket of his robes. He picked up Hedwig and placed the cage on the floor of the front hall until they left.
“All right, you first,” Sirius said, gesturing to Vernon.
Vernon drew himself up. “I am not going into that cupboard!” he said forcefully.
“Oh yes you are,” Sirius said, grabbing him by the front of the shirt and cramming him in. For such a thin man, Sirius had a great deal of wiry strength on him. It probably helped that Vernon was too terrified to put up much of a struggle. Petunia went into the closet without being told twice.
“Hey, Dudley!” Harry called, glancing around the house. “Come downstairs, breakfast is ready!”
Sirius and Remus both smothered their laughter as they heard the sound of heavy feet on the staircase. Dudley stopped in the front hall and squeaked in alarm as he saw them. “He’s never going to fit,” Remus said, giving Dudley’s girth a critical eye.
“Let me borrow your wand,” Sirius said.
“No,” Remus replied, looking insulted that Sirius had even suggested it. “You’ll turn him into a spider or something. And that they can’t undo, and we’d get in trouble. Just cram him in.”
“Right-o.” Sirius grabbed Dudley by the shoulders, hauled him over to the cupboard, and tried to squash him in.
“Maybe we should make the cupboard a little bit bigger?” Remus suggested, watching this with an air of clinical detachment. “Because this isn’t going to work.”
Sirius stood back, keeping his hand clutched tightly in Dudley’s arm. “Decisions, decisions. We could just have him lose some weight the hard way.”
“I’m not going to shrink him,” Remus said. He looked into the closet. “Oh, I know. It’s nice and high. Let’s float him.”
“Oh, yes, let’s.”
They left the Dursley’s ten minutes later, having locked all three of them in the closet. Vernon was large enough that they had no doubts he would eventually manage to batter the door down. But by then, they would be longer gone.
“Hello, Harry,” Remus said. “How’s your summer been?”
“Just . . . fine,” Harry said, his grin widening. “Think that made up for it.”
Sirius pulled him into another hug. “You didn’t answer my letters,” he said. “I got worried.”
“Ah, yeah,” Harry said. “Sorry about that. Uncle Vernon wasn’t letting me have any of my letters.”
Remus tried to steer this conversation away from the Dursley’s maltreatment of him before Sirius decided to go shrink the entire cupboard. Without shrinking them. “I didn’t think to take your broom out of your trunk, Harry, so you can fly with Sirius. Professor Dumbledore asked us to come pick you up and take you to the Weasleys.”
Harry brightened. “That’s good,” he said.
“And I can visit you there,” Sirius said, then added quickly, “If you don’t mind.”
“Of course I don’t,” Harry said. “But they don’t all know that you’re not . . . you know. Evil.”
“Well, I can either show up as Padfoot, or you can tell the rest of them,” Sirius said.
“Snuffles,” Harry corrected with a grin.
Sirius wilted.
“All right, Padfoot.”
****
When Draco went downstairs for breakfast, his father was sitting at the dining room table with a copy of the Daily Prophet. He gave no indication that he had even noticed that Draco had entered the room. Draco’s mother Narcissa, on the other hand, looked up and smiled vaguely at her son. “Good morning, Draco.”
“Good morning, mother,” Draco said, sitting down and dishing himself up some breakfast from what was already on the table. The house-elves served breakfast promptly at nine. He rarely made it up quite that early, and had to eat whatever his parents hadn’t already taken.
The silence stretched out unbearably as Draco ate, but he was used to it. His mother had always been quiet, and had recently taken to not speaking at all when her husband was in the room.
Lucius finally put down the newspaper. “I have something for you to do today,” he said to Draco.
“What is it?” Draco asked, with interest.
“When someone is marked by the Dark Lord, it gives them a certain responsibility,” Lucius said, sounding just a bit pompous. “If he calls them by the Mark, they are to Apparate instantly at his side. You don’t know how to Apparate. Therefore, today you’re going to learn.”
“Won’t that be nice,” Draco said complacently.
“Given that children aren’t generally allowed to do so, we’ll have to take special care with it,” Lucius said. “If you splinched yourself, there would be all sorts of trouble.”
“Yes,” Draco said, “Mother would be most upset.”
Lucius gave him a cold glare. “You’re the one who would be upset if you got in trouble with the Ministry for underage use of magic.”
Draco wanted to comment that his father had gotten out of worse trouble with the Ministry than teaching his son to Apparate, but didn’t think it would be particularly good for his health. He settled for glaring across the table.
“Finish your breakfast and we’ll begin,” Lucius said briefly, and picked up the newspaper again.
Draco waited about thirty seconds, just long enough for Lucius to have started getting absorbed in the paper again, then pushed his plate away and said, “I’m done.”
Lucius looked up from the paper, an irritated expression on his face. “Fine.”
****
Remus, Sirius, and Harry touched down about fifty feet away from the Burrow. Sirius immediately changed back into his dog form, so as not to alert the Weasleys to his presence if it would have gotten him in trouble. Harry put the broom aside and half-ran up to the doorstep with a grin on his face. “Hello?” he called, pushing the door open. Sirius and Remus followed a bit more sedately.
There was a series of thuds as Ron came barrelling down the stairs. “You’re here!”
“Sure am,” Harry said, still grinning. “And Sirius and Professor Lupin stuck my family in my cupboard!”
“That’s great!” Ron said, then paused. “Hang on, did you say cupboard?”
“It’s kind of a long story,” Harry said.
It looked like Ron might demand to hear it, but at that moment, most of the rest of his family interrupted. Mrs. Weasley pulled Harry into a hug and immediately started trying to feed him breakfast. The twins generally made nuisances of themselves, and Ginny tried to look nonchalant while attempting to fix her hair.
Mrs. Weasley turned to Remus and Sirius. “Thank you so much for fetching him,” she said. “I was afraid that certain children of mine might take it into their heads to do so themselves.”
Fred and George immediately put on angelically innocent faces. “Now, Mum . . .” Fred began.
“Not another word,” Mrs. Weasley said. She turned back to Remus. “I do hope you’ll join us for breakfast before going, won’t you?”
“Of course,” Remus said. “Thank you.”
“Oi!” George caught sight of Sirius. “Harry! You have a Grim!”
Fred’s jaw dropped. “Now how cool is that?”
Harry coughed. “Well, he’s not precisely a . . . all right, never mind.”
“Is he a familiar?” Ginny piped up, staring at the dog rather nervously.
“He’s familiar, all right,” Ron spoke up. Sirius immediately pounced on him and started to lick Ron’s face. “Hey! Get off me, you big oaf! Harry! Get him off me!”
Harry was laughing too hard. Remus caught Sirius by the scruff of the neck and dragged him off Ron. Sirius turned to Remus and looked at him indignantly. “Don’t give me that look,” Remus told him. Sirius switched to giving him puppy dog eyes. “And certainly don’t give me that one.”
Sirius slumped and flopped down at Remus’ feet, looking as pitiful as was caninely possible.
“That’s what you get for calling him Snuffles,” Harry said complacently. He glanced at Remus, wondering if they were supposed to introduce Sirius properly. Remus gave him a bewildered shrug.
“Oh, just say it,” Mrs. Weasley said. “Percy’s not here, and he’s the only one who’s strict about rules and silly things like that.”
“All right,” Remus said, and glanced at Sirius, who immediately changed back into human form.
“Hi,” he said.
Ginny let out a small shriek. The twins simply gaped.
“Ah, yes, perhaps we’d better explain,” Remus said. “This is a rather complicated story, but it can be summed up thusly: Sirius is not a servant of Voldemort, and was wrongly accused and imprisoned, and is now protecting Harry, don’t tell anyone.”
“Very concise of you,” Sirius mentioned.
“I want the full story!” Fred protested. “Because it has to be interesting.”
“Over breakfast,” Mrs. Weasley said, and proceeded to shoo everyone into chairs, Sirius included. “You need to eat something,” she said, giving him a look that bordered between mothering and threatening. “You’re all skin and bones, honestly.”
Sirius blinked at her, bewildered. “It’s been a rough couple of years. Actually, a rough decade and a half.”
“Oh, don’t bother about my mum,” Ron said complacently. “She mothers everyone. Especially people who aren’t her actual children.”
“The rest of us she just threatens,” George piped up. Fred nodded along to this statement.
“Oh, honestly, you three,” Mrs. Weasley said. “Don’t be horrible. It’s breakfast and we have guests. Like some sausages, Harry?”
“See?” Ron asked.
Harry tried not to smile. “Yes, thank you.”
Over the course of breakfast, Harry and Ron together told the entire story, which everyone found quite interesting. Even Sirius hadn’t heard the section about the Time Turner, which Harry figured they could tell since Hermione wasn’t there to get angry at them, and Percy wasn’t there to yell at them for breaking the rules.
“I had wondered how you’d gotten there in time,” Sirius mentioned. “But there wasn’t really much time to discuss it in the there and now.”
By the end of the story, Fred and George were howling with laughter. “I can’t believe it! Scabbers! That’s . . . diabolical!”
“Oh, shuddup,” Ron muttered. “It’s not my fault. He was Percy’s first.”
“And can you imagine the fit that he would throw?” George asked, and both of them went off into gales of laughter again. “Harboring a secret murderer! He’d have a conniption!”
Remus noted that Sirius had gone very quiet, and gave him a suspicious look. “Stop thinking about killing Peter,” he muttered under his breath. “It’s rather disconcerting when you do that.”
“Just one good shake,” Sirius replied. “That’s all it would take.”
“Right then,” Remus said, and decided it was high time they changed the subject. At least off of Peter. He searched in vain for a subject.
Fred saved him. “So, hang on,” he said. “How did you two know about all those secret passages?” he asked, directing the question at Sirius and Remus. “We only knew about them because of the map.”
“Oh, that’s where Harry got the map!” Sirius said, brightening. “How did you two get it away from Filch?”
George launched into the whole story, severely editing it, given that they were in the presence of his mother. The story, with the editing, basically amounted to ‘we found it.’ Sirius gave them an amused look. “But how did you know?” George went on to ask. “Did you have it when you were in school?”
“We made it, actually,” Remus said. “I’m Moony, this is Padfoot. James was Prongs and Peter was Wormtail.”
Fred and George gaped at him again. “And here I thought I couldn’t be surprised again today,” Fred finally said. “I would just like to shake your hand . . .”
Mrs. Weasley gave them a look. “You two, honestly.”
“Which two?” Harry asked, amused.
“It was Sirius’ idea,” Remus said. “After getting caught by Filch’s cat one too many times. Horrible beast. In any case, we all worked together on it. James and I pulled most of the fine detail together, but Sirius did the big magic -- pulling the whole school into the map, I mean.” He didn’t mention what part Peter had done, not wanting to set Sirius off again.
“Brilliant,” George stated. “It’s helped us for many years.”
“Doing what?” Mrs. Weasley asked sharply.
“Ah . . .” Fred backpedaled. “Nothing that you don’t know about. Nothing at all.”
“Midnight raids to the kitchen,” George suggested.
“Yes, and helping young children who are lost,” Ron stated, snorting in disbelief.
“That too,” Fred replied.
****
Sirius and Remus left Harry at the Weasley’s, and flew to Hogwarts to report to Professor Dumbledore. He was in his office when they arrived, and greeted them cordially. “It’s good to see you both well,” he said, gesturing for them to have a seat. He would not tell them that he had been slightly worried as to how their reunion would go. Seeing as it had apparently gone well, it seemed pointless to reveal his thoughts.
“Thank you,” Remus said. “We thought we would drop by and report. Harry’s safely at the Weasley’s. We, ah, left his relatives in one piece. And one place.”
Dumbledore looked slightly amused by this, and Remus felt sure that he knew exactly where and how the Dursleys had been left. “That is good news to hear.”
Sirius, who was looking both guilty and smug simultaneously, spoke up. “I contacted all the members of the order. Mostly by owl. I didn’t want to bother with trying to explain myself and the shrieking and the wailing and the pointed wands.”
“That’s just fine,” Dumbledore said. “I’m hoping to have a meeting soon, but perhaps not until school has begun again. It seems best not to give Voldemort any reason to direct his attention to us when so many of the children are in vulnerable places.”
“That does give him all summer to build up his strength, though,” Remus said unhappily.
“He’d be doing that anyway,” Sirius pointed out.
“Quite,” Dumbledore replied. “I trust you both to keep watch over Harry during the summer.”
Sirius smiled. “I’ll visit often.”
“Once the school year begins, I’d like you both here,” Dumbledore continued. “I’m going to contact different members of the order, perhaps have some extra classes next year. It seems that it would be a good time to educate some of our elder students in wizarding battle tactics. Remus, if you would be so kind, I would like you to return to your post as Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts.”
Remus blinked in surprise. “But . . . I can’t.”
“No one made you quit,” Sirius said. “Not really.”
Remus gave Sirius a sidelong glance. “I’m a werewolf. I could have injured one of the children that night that I forgot to take the potion. I don’t really think it’s wise. And in any case, I doubt the board of governors would let you rehire me.”
Dumbledore cleared his throat. “The board of governors may be lenient on this matter, given that I have not yet received a single application from anyone willing to take the job. You seem to be the only professor who has thus far escaped from the job unscathed.”
Remus coughed slightly. “I think that was mostly luck on my part.”
“Well, I would like you to apply your luck again,” Dumbledore said. “And if you need more persuasion, I’m sure I can provide it.” He opened a drawer of his desk and pulled out a large stack of letters. “These happen to be from all the students and parents who wrote back after your resignation to request that you be brought back. It seems that many of them think you were the first competent Dark Arts professor to grace the school in many years. You may read them, and if you still choose not to return, you can reply to all those parents and students and explain to them your reasons for not returning.”
Remus stared at the pile of letters. “There’s a reason that Voldemort fears you, and now I know what it is.”
Dumbledore smiled. “I would like you to be here next year, Remus. It is going to be dangerous for all of us, and Hogwarts will need to be protected. And it would also be rather beneficial if the children could actually learn something in Defense Against the Dark Arts.”
“All right, all right,” Remus said, then glanced at Sirius. “Are you going to be a dog all year, then?”
“Whatever it takes,” Sirius replied. “I’m a bit used to it at this point.”
“That rather worries me,” Remus said, but he said it underneath his breath and Sirius didn’t hear him.
“I have been speaking to different members of the Ministry,” Dumbledore replied, “about having Azkaban removed from the . . . care . . . of the dementors. However, so far I have not received a very good response. I fear that this year will be critical. That is also why I would like the two of you here.”
Sirius closed his eyes and tried not to shiver. Remus reached over and took his hand comfortingly.
“I will contact you when it’s time to meet with the order,” Dumbledore said. “Until then, keep a low profile, and watch over at Harry. And take care of yourselves, and each other.”
Remus smiled slightly. “We will.”
****
Chapter Four
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