Chapter Four
Hermione was pleased, upon awaking, to find that a letter had been left for her in the night. She read through it while absently eating breakfast, letting her parents chatter.
Dear Hermione,
I’m at Ron’s now. You should really come visit, it’s wonderful here. Sirius and Professor Lupin came to get me yesterday, and then Sirius shoved all my relatives into my cupboard. He had to make Dudley float in order for them to all fit. It was the best thing I’d ever seen.
I’ve got Percy’s old room, which is really high up. It makes me kind of nervous. Especially since this house doesn’t seem particularly well-balanced. Well, you remember, you were here last summer. Anyway, we had to explain everything to the Weasleys at breakfast, about Sirius and all. You should have seen the looks on the twins’ faces. Ginny hasn’t spoken more than few sentences since I’ve gotten here. I’ve got to do something about her being so shy, or Ron won’t stop laughing all summer.
You should have told me that Sirius was coming to get me, you know. That was a bit devious of you. Write soon and come visit.
Harry
Hermione smiled and tucked the letter away, nodding as her mother reminded her to brush her teeth after breakfast. This was an honored routine in their house. It was broken as Crookshanks tried to leap up onto the table and was swatted down by Hermione’s father with a newspaper.
She picked up the second thing she’d gotten, which was the Daily Prophet. For the first few weeks of summer, it had been filled with the rumors about Voldemort, but that had died down. The front story was about the controversy over whether or not Azkaban should be taken out of the hands of the dementors.
Hermione found the argument entirely ridiculous. The dementors might as well have been carrying signs that announced they were evil. She sighed. Trust the bureaucracy to ignore such an obvious fact.
There was a brief article on the still-missing Rita Skeeter. Hermione smiled to herself and made a mental note to gather more leaves for her while she was out.
****
Sirius Black was dreaming again.
His dreams were always variations of things that had happened in real life; finding James and Lily dead, confronting Peter in the street, even things as far back as nearly getting Snape killed in their sixth year of school. He was dreaming about Peter, except there were no Aurors coming to arrest him. Just the dementors. The dreams were nearly always about the dementors.
Remus watched him silently as he tossed and turned, mumbling in his sleep. He had thought that perhaps the nightmare would pass, but it didn’t show any signs of doing so. In fact, Sirius was starting to look seriously panicked. After a long moment, Remus reached out and put his hand on Sirius’ shoulder, shaking him gently. “Sirius?”
Sirius sat bolt upright and scrambled away from the hand on him, quickly going into a full blown panic. “No! Please!”
Remus grabbed him by the shoulders and pinned him down to the bed before he could fall off. “Sirius!” he yelled.
There was a pause, then Sirius stiffened. “Moony?” he asked, his voice very subdued, going limp in Remus’ grasp.
“Yes, Padfoot, it’s me,” Remus said soothingly, reaching out to smooth Sirius’ hair.
Sirius sat up again and practically threw himself into the relative comfort of Remus’ arms. “I’m sorry,” he said, his tone frantic. “I didn’t mean to hurt them. I’m so sorry . . .” Remus hugged him tightly, and waited until he had worn himself out. His words trailed to a stop and he huddled in Remus’ embrace.
“What were you apologizing for?” Remus asked softly.
“I killed . . . I killed them,” Sirius said, hiding his face in Remus’ shoulder.
“You didn’t kill anyone, Sirius.”
“The people in the street,” Sirius insisted, then added shakily, “James and Lily . . .”
“You didn’t kill them, Sirius,” Remus said, his voice firm. “Voldemort killed Lily and James, with Peter’s help. Peter killed the people in the street. You didn’t kill anyone.”
Sirius shook his head. “Wasn’t there,” he said, referring to his dream. “Just me. It was just me. And the dementors came to make me pay . . .”
“Sirius, it was a dream,” Remus said, taking Sirius’ chin in his hands and forcing him to meet his eyes. “Just a dream, that’s all. You didn’t kill anyone.”
“Felt really . . . hard to tell,” Sirius said, shaking his head again slightly. “Like a memory.”
“Dreams wouldn’t be frightening if they didn’t feel real,” Remus said.
“They won’t leave me alone,” Sirius said, sounding close to tears. “I ran and I still can’t get away.”
“You are away, Sirius,” Remus replied. “You’re here, with me. I’ll keep you safe.”
“But they’re in my head now,” Sirius said, sounding slightly less hysterical. He slumped against Remus, nestling his head in the hollow of his shoulder.
“It’ll get better, Sirius,” Remus said. “And the more you believe that, the easier it will be.”
Sirius nodded, then said, “Sorry I woke you up. Feel stupid.”
“You can always wake me, whenever you need me,” Remus said leaning down to kiss his forehead.
“I don’t want to have to,” Sirius protested.
“But will you?” Remus pressed. “If you need me?”
Sirius nodded, looking slightly shame-faced. After a minute of silence, he mumbled, “I’m cold.”
“You want some hot chocolate?” Remus asked, hugging him tighter in an effort to provide physical warmth.
Sirius nodded, unsure of how to articulate that it wasn’t really a physical cold, at least, not entirely. He figured that the hot chocolate ought to help in any case, protection as it was against the dementors.
“You want to come with me?” Remus asked. “Or shall I just go get it?”
“I’ll go with you,” Sirius replied. Remus helped him up, keeping an arm around his shoulders as they went into the kitchen. Sirius followed him somewhat akin to a traumatized puppy. A few minutes later, they were back in bed. Sirius kept the mug of hot chocolate wrapped tightly in both hands, sipping it gingerly. “Thank you,” Sirius said, as Remus wrapped both arms around his shoulders to keep him warm.
“Is there anything you’d like to talk about?” Remus asked, leaning his face against Sirius’ shoulder.
“If I talk about it, I start to remember it,” Sirius said.
“If you don’t remember it, you can’t face it,” Remus pointed out.
Sirius shuddered. “They make me feel cold.”
“I know.” Remus hugged him tighter, then said cautiously, “But the odds that we’ll get through all this without ever seeing a dementor again aren’t good.”
“Oh please no . . .” Sirius’ shivering grew worse.
“Shhh,” Remus said. “We can try to avoid them.” He didn’t want to say what he was thinking; that Sirius would have to face his fears at some point, or he wouldn’t be able to help. The year was going to be crucial in who got possession of Azkaban. Remus knew that at some point, probably sooner than he’d like, Sirius would have to face dementors again.
He said none of this, however; and they sat in silence until Sirius fell asleep.
****
“So, what news from the headmaster?” Arthur Weasley asked cheerfully, as Sirius came through the front door of the Burrow. “I heard that you and Lupin went to visit him the other day. Any news on when the order is going to be meeting?”
“He said he would let us know,” Sirius said, then added, “Moony’s going to be a professor again.”
“Is he really?” Ron asked in interest, looking up from his lunch. “That’d be wicked.”
Sirius smiled, pleased with himself, and it was an actual smile rather than his insane grin. “Oh, yes. We talked him into it.”
“Molly and I wrote a letter after his resignation,” Arthur said. “I remembered him from the days during You-Know-Who’s reign, and knew he’d never hurt the children or anything.”
“I wrote one too,” Ron chipped in. “And I think Hermione did.”
“We did,” the twins chipped in.
“Me too,” Ginny said shyly.
“Did what?” Harry asked, wandering into the room. “Oh, hallo, Sirius.” He smiled at his godfather and slid into his seat for lunch.
“Wrote letters to Professor Dumbledore about Remus keeping his job,” Sirius said.
“And you all did?” Harry looked amused.
“Well, yeah,” Ron said. “We didn’t consult with each other. Didn’t you?”
“No,” Harry said. “Remember, I talked to Professor Lupin before he left. I knew that a letter wouldn’t help. It’s not like he got fired. He resigned because he wanted to, because he was afraid that he might change and hurt one of us one day.” He shrugged and started making himself a sandwich.
“He always was a bit silly that way,” Sirius reflected.
“Come on, Sirius, sit down and have some lunch,” Ron said, gesturing to an empty chair. “Where is Professor Lupin today, anyway?”
“I’m not precisely sure,” Sirius replied. “He booted me out this morning, saying that he was letting me off my leash.” To be precise, Remus had said that he thought Sirius and Harry needed ‘godfather time’, and that he wasn’t going to come along. He sat down and took the bread from Harry.
“Oh, good,” Mrs. Weasley said, bustling her way into the room. “You can take him shopping. He hasn’t got hardly any clothes, and what he has doesn’t fit.”
“But I can’t go out in public,” Sirius said. “You know, wanted murderer?”
“We’ll be all right if we stick to Muggle stores,” Harry said, enthusiastic at the idea of having Sirius all to himself for a day. “That was two years ago; they’ll have forgotten. I still have some Muggle money; I always get some of it changed so I can have it over the summer.”
Ron gave Sirius a critical eye. “I dunno, he’s pretty recognizable.”
“Maybe if you put his hair up,” Ginny chimed in, then blushed and looked away.
Sirius looked decidedly nervous at this statement.
“We could cut it,” Mrs. Weasley said, giving Sirius a look. “It’s all long and straggly. You wouldn’t mind, would you?” she added as an afterthought.
“I . . . really could care less,” Sirius said.
“Good, then,” Mrs. Weasley said. “We’ll have you off in no time.”
By the time Sirius and Harry left, Sirius was fit to be seen in public, according to Mrs. Weasley. Though he still would have been recognized in an instant in the wizarding world, everyone felt that he was disguised enough to go out among Muggles. His hair had been cut so that when it was put into a high ponytail (which Ginny took great delight in doing), it just barely reached the nape of his neck. They dressed him in some of the clothing that Bill had accidentally left after staying the summer: torn jeans, a white tank top, and a button down shirt over it.
“The tank top is too tight,” Sirius said absently, trying to move his arms.
“It looks . . . absolutely fine,” Mrs. Weasley said quickly, and turned away to hide her slight blush.
Arthur handed Sirius a pair of glasses. “They’re my reading glasses, but I changed them so they won’t distort your vision any,” he said. “That ought to be a good finishing touch, eh?”
Sirius slid the glasses on. Ginny fell out of her chair, then blushed and fled the room.
“I’ll go see what’s bothering her,” Mrs. Weasley said, and hurried out.
“What’s with them?” Ron asked, looking confused.
“Haven’t a clue,” Harry said. He turned to Sirius. “C’mon, let’s go.”
****
Remus was busying himself in the kitchen. He had found that doing dishes was a great pastime when one needed to do some thinking. So although he could have either washed them with magic, or just put them in the dishwasher, he was washing them by hand.
He walked out as he heard the door open and closed, his hands still wet. “Hi,” he said to Sirius, who was propping his broom up against the wall. “How was your day?”
“It was fun,” Sirius said, turning and smiling at him. “I took Harry shopping,” he added, and took off the outer robe he had been wearing, so he didn’t have to carry it.
“That’s, um . . .” Remus blinked at the outfit that Sirius was wearing. His hair was still up in the ponytail, though he had returned Mr. Weasley’s glasses. He shook himself slightly. “Sort of . . . where did you get those clothes?”
“They’re Bill Weasley’s,” Sirius said, and looked down at himself. “The shirt’s too tight.”
“I . . . noticed that,” Remus said.
“It doesn’t look that bad, does it?” Sirius asked.
“No,” Remus said, after a long moment to consider. “No, it certainly doesn’t. I would have expected his clothes to be loose on you, actually. I suppose they must be old. I’m babbling, aren’t I.”
“Yes, Moony.”
“Ah.” Remus nodded. “I’ll just . . . go . . . finish the dishes.” He turned and headed for the kitchen.
Sirius came up behind him as he stood at the sink and wrapped his arms around his waist. “What’s your problem?” he asked curiously. He had noticed a certain trend among the female clerks at the stores Harry had taken him to as well.
Remus turned, having picked up a towel and dried off his hands. “You have absolutely no idea how you look in those clothes, do you.”
“I was going with ‘enough not like myself to not have the general public shriek and run,’” Sirius said.
“Trust me, you still look like yourself,” Remus said. “That’s half my problem. If you looked like someone else, I wouldn’t care.”
“I do detect a blush,” Sirius said, looking at him thoughtfully.
“Well, it’s nice to know that you’re not blind,” Remus said.
“What?” Sirius asked. “They’re just borrowed clothes.”
“That make you look utterly fantastic. Shut up and kiss me.”
Sirius gave this statement due consideration, and came to a conclusion. “All right, then,” he said, and did so.
****
Draco examined the letter they had gotten in the post. It was too early for the Hogwarts letters to be sent, so he was somewhat disconcerted to find a letter with an official Hogwarts envelope and seal. He wondered if he had done anything wrong and been caught for it, and hadn’t been aware of it.
Fortunately for him, the letter was something entirely different. He walked into the room where his father was writing on a piece of parchment. “Apparently my grades did improve significantly, father,” he said, still reading the letter.
Lucius looked up. “Oh?” he asked.
“They’ve made me a prefect,” Draco said, handing the letter to him.
Lucius took it and read it. “As I recall, there are three from each house. One for every year fifth and after, correct?” At Draco’s nod, he said, “I’m not sure if this says something good about you or something negative about your fellow Slytherins.” He handed the letter back and went back to what he was writing.
Draco snatched it from his hand. “Must you ruin all my fun?” he asked.
“If you think being a prefect will be fun, you’ve undoubtedly not been paying any attention,” Lucius replied.
“You are impossible to please,” Draco said, and stormed out of the room.
****
“Oh, I’m a prefect!” Hermione said, clapping her hands as if this had been some big surprise. “That means I get my own room,” she added to her parents, taking an extra helping of vegetables.
“That’s wonderful,” her mother said. “I bet that you means you get all sorts of responsibilities, too.”
“Yes,” Hermione said. “Though that’s not quite as pleasant as having my own room. Wonder who it is in the other houses . . .” As usual, she went off into a spurt of knowledge. “There are twelve total. One from each house for every year fifth and after.”
“Very special honor then,” her father replied.
“It means I have a chance at being Head Girl!” Hermione said triumphantly. “Oh, by the way, I’m still going to visit Ron and Harry next week, right?”
“Unless something comes up that we don’t know about, certainly,” her father said.
“All right.” Hermione smiled widely and went to write Harry and Ron to tell them that she was a prefect. And perhaps to mention when she’d be coming to visit.
****
Hermione arrived at the Burrow on that Sunday morning, and was greeted with great cheerfulness by all. Ron spent most of the day teasing Hermione about the fact that she was visiting them, rather than Viktor Krum. She glared at him immensely whenever he dared do this. “Oh, shut up,” was all she would say on the matter.
Sirius came by the next morning. “Remus is going to be coming later,” he said. “He had some work to finish up this morning.” He leaned over and hugged Harry, then noticed Hermione. “Oh, hello, Hermione,” he said courteously. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
Hermione was blinking at his clothes, which were similar to the outfit he had borrowed from Bill weeks before. “Hello,” she managed after a moment. Ginny and Mrs. Weasley had both gotten used to this by now, but felt better knowing that it wasn’t just them. She stammered for a few seconds, then regained her composure. “It has been a while, hasn’t it. That’s a very good Muggle disguise you have there.”
“Yes, it was everyone else’s idea,” Sirius said. “I keep saying it’s not necessary, but Moony insists.” He shrugged, apparently not really caring very much.
Hermione raised an eyebrow and wondered what this might imply about Sirius and Remus. “I see,” was all she said, and poured herself more orange juice. “Still, it’s probably a good idea. All it would take was one person recognizing you.”
Ron rolled his eyes. “Hermione, we’re on vacation. Relax.”
“I am relaxed,” she said, sounding vaguely annoyed.
“Heard that you were a prefect, too,” Harry added, smiling at her.
Hermione grinned, totally missing the sarcasm in his statement. “Of course! I get my own room.”
Harry and Ron tried not to laugh, and had very little luck.
“Oh, shut up,” Hermione replied.
“She’s been saying that a lot lately,” Ron observed.
“You’ve been annoying me a lot lately.”
They finished breakfast, and Ron determined that he was going to teach Hermione how to play Quidditch. The twins agreed to join them, as did Ginny. “We need one more member,” Ron said, then turned to Sirius. “You play Quidditch, right?”
“I used to,” Sirius said uncertainly.
“Good enough,” Ron said. “Hermione’s new and Ginny doesn’t play much either. Now we have a full team.”
“But no one to play against,” Harry pointed out. “So having a full team doesn’t really matter, now does it.”
Ron paused. “Ah . . . never mind then. Let’s just go play.”
“Where are you going?” Remus asked, letting himself in. He had been somewhat nervous on this concept; as he thought that just walking in and out was rude. However, Mrs. Weasley had been adamant about the fact that so many people were in and out, she certainly wasn’t getting up to answer the door every time.
“Perfect!” Ron said. “Now there’s eight of us. We can just play Chaser and Keeper.”
“Oh, Quidditch,” Remus said, and smiled slightly. “It’s been a very long time since I played any, and I wasn’t very good at it to begin with, I’m afraid.”
“That’s all right,” Ron said. “We’ll just split evenly.”
The teams wound up being Harry, Fred, Sirius, and Ginny on one side, the other being Ron, George, Remus, and Hermione. They managed to scrounge up enough broomsticks to play. Hermione kept a close eye on Remus and Sirius, trying to decide whether or not their behavior was more than friendly.
“Oh, by the way, congratulations on being a prefect, Hermione,” Remus said. “All the teachers got a letter saying who the prefects would be for this year.”
“Oh, really?” Hermione asked. “Thank you.”
“Yes, I thought it might amuse you,” Remus said, smiling slightly, “that your friend Mr. Malfoy is the Slytherin prefect.”
“Oh, no!” Hermione said, looking distressed.
“Dragging the word prefect right through the mud,” Ron said, with mock sadness.
“That means I might have to talk to him like a civil human being!” Hermione protested. She was wondering if she could manage to hex him behind his back.
“I’ll bet he’s none too pleased with us, after what happened on the train on the way back from last year,” Fred mentioned.
“They deserved it,” Hermione said.
“Course they did,” George said. “But that doesn’t mean he’s happy.”
Sirius looked at Harry, noting that he had gone strangely silent with the mention of Malfoy. “All right, Harry?”
Harry jumped. “Oh. Yes, I’m fine.”
“Really,” Sirius said, obviously not believing a word of it.
“I was just trying to think of anything other hexes I knew, so I can use them all on Malfoy next year,” Harry said brightly.
“Try not to get yourself in too much trouble,” Sirius said. He knew that Harry was lying, or at least not telling the whole truth, but suspected that pressing for further information wouldn’t help. However, he wasn’t particularly good at cloaking his emotions, and it was plain to everyone present that he knew Harry wasn’t telling the truth.
“Said the pot to the kettle,” Remus said, then added, “and if you make that horrible joke again . . .”
Sirius just grinned, looking slightly evil.
“What joke, Professor Lupin?” Harry asked eagerly.
“Don’t ask,” Remus said. “But while we’re on the subject, you may as well call me Remus. Professor Lupin is a bit long, don’t you think? Besides, I’m not used to being an authority figure.”
“Er . . . all right,” Harry said uncertainly.
“He’s practically your uncle,” Sirius mentioned. “It is rather strange. And he’s a damn sight better than that other uncle that you have.”
Harry couldn’t help but laugh.
****
Harry learned an important fact that summer: all the Weasleys, plus Hermione, plus Remus and Sirius, could be amazingly off-key while bellowing Happy Birthday at the top of their lungs. Though he supposed it wasn’t actually all the Weasleys; Charlie hadn’t been able to make it from Romania. Though he would have been slightly startled if he had, given that they’d only met once.
Still, it was the first time that anyone had sung happy birthday to him at all, so he decided not to make a fuss about how he thought his ears might start bleeding at any moment. He was too busy gaping at the pile of presents in front of him.
“Go on and open them, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said, pushing one off the pile toward him.
“But there are so many,” Harry said, bewildered.
“There’s only nine,” Fred said, looking surprised that Harry was so puzzled by the pile.
“Exactly!” Harry picked up the first one. “And I bet none of them are old socks, too . . .”
“Old socks?” Ginny asked curiously.
“Ah, never mind.” Harry looked at the present, which was meticulously wrapped, and knew that it was from Hermione without bothering to look at the tag. It was large and heavy and undoubtedly a book. He took the paper off and read the title aloud. “One hundred thirteen spells to get out of tight jams,” he said. There was a subheading, which he also read. “Everything from invisibility to cleaning stains off carpets. Wow, thanks, Hermione. This’ll be awfully useful.”
“See?” Hermione grinned. “It’s educational and fun.”
“And God forbid she give you something only fun,” Ron said, rolling his eyes.
“Just you wait,” Hermione said. “I have plans.”
“I hope they aren’t for me,” Ron replied, as Harry picked up the next present. “That one’s Ginny’s,” he said, smirking at his younger sister, who turned a brilliant shade of pink.
Harry opened Ginny’s, which was also a book, but found that it was full of blank paper. It gave him horrible flashbacks to their second year. “What is it?” he asked, looking at it.
“I promise there’s no one living in it,” Ginny said quickly, which made Harry laugh. “It’s a book that’s bigger on the inside than on the outside. It never runs out of paper, so you can keep all your notes and things in it without having to carry around more than one notebook.”
“Neat,” Harry said. “Thank you.” He received candy from Percy, which was unoriginal but still appreciated. The twins had given him a box of their ton-tongue toffee (new and improved to make the tongue turn different colors in sequence). He naturally received a Weasley sweater from Ron’s parents. Bill gave him a chain with a dragon tooth on it, similar to the one he wore as an earring, which caused a clucking sound from his mother. Harry thought it was incredibly cool.
He picked up another heavy one wrapped in silver paper. “You got me a book, Sirius?” he asked, amused. It didn’t seem like the type of present Sirius would buy.
“It’s not a Firebolt, but it’ll do,” Sirius said with a smirk.
Harry unwrapped it. It was a book full of hexes and curses. “Wow,” he said. “I don’t think I can legally own this.”
“Oh, you can own it,” Sirius said. “You’re just not old enough to buy it. I figured you might want it for fighting with Malfoy this year.”
“Great,” Harry said happily, and gave Sirius a hug.
Arthur raised an eyebrow at Sirius.
“What?” Sirius asked. “I have to be protective. Not responsible. That’s what Moony’s for.”
“But I think I failed this round,” Remus said, pushing his own present towards Harry. “I actually had to go into Knockturn alley to get that, so I hope you appreciate it.”
Looking surprised, Harry unwrapped it and found it was a candle in a holder. He looked at the tag. “Supplies light only to the holder,” he said. “Oh, I remember this! Draco wanted it. And now I have it.” He looked immensely pleased with this statement.
Sirius glanced at Remus. “Right, you’re out,” he teased.
Remus turned slightly red. “He could use it to stay up late studying and not keep his roommates up,” he said. “I’m not telling him to use it irresponsibly.”
Sirius laughed. “Of course he could.”
“Oh, shut up,” Remus said.
Harry reached for the last present, which was from Ron. “Oh, a camera!” he said.
“It’s a wizard camera,” Ron pointed out needlessly. “Focuses automatically, makes its own light source, never runs out of film, and all that.”
“And the pictures will move!” Harry said excitedly.
“Well, yeah,” Ron said. “Of course they will. Oh, I forgot, Muggle pictures don’t.”
“This must have cost a fortune,” Harry said, not really thinking about it.
Ron shrugged. “It’s a standard wizard camera,” he replied.
“Oh,” Harry said, then lifted it up and took a picture of the assembled party. Sirius accepted it then so he could take one of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, then Remus took a picture of Sirius and Harry together. The camera was cheerfully passed around for the rest of the evening, until Mrs. Weasley came out with the cake and it was forgotten.
****
Chapter Five
Home