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"We've got ten minutes to get down to the Hospital wing," Hermione said, pulling open the door to the West Tower.
"Right," Harry nodded, forcing his eyes away from the spot in the sky where Sirius and Buckbeak previously were.
"Uh-- should I go down and check that- um- nobody's there?" Lisa asked as they sprinted down the tight, spiral staircase. But she didn't need to, because they could hear voices before they even made it to the bottom of the staircase. It sounded like Fudge and Snape. Harry peeked around the corner-- they were walking rather quickly along the corridor.
"...can only hope Dumbledore won't make any difficulties," Snape said. "The Kiss will be performed immediately, you say?"
"As soon as Macnair returns with the dementors. This whole Black-affair has been highly embarrassing, really, I can't wait to tell you how much I'm looking forward to informing the Prophet that we've caught him at last... I daresay they'll want to interview you, Snape... and once Harley's back in his right mind, I'm sure he'll want to tell the Prophet himself... really, Harry... we spent so long calling him the wrong name now he’s thinking it’s real too..."
Harry had to bite his tongue to stop himself from doing anything stupid. Stupid "Harley"-- stupid Fudge! He’d told him about twenty times over... Harry was just able to see Snape's smirk when he and Fudge passed. Their footsteps died away quite shortly. Harry, Hermione, Lisa and Draco didn't wait to see if they were really gone-- there wasn't time to spare, especially not now. Down one staircase, and then another, along one corridor-- then they heard a cackling up ahead.
Draco swore under his breath, before muttering, "Peeves! Stupid-- Peeves!"
"Just, I'unno, freeze him or something! That stuff works on ghosts, it should work on Peeves!" Lisa insisted. "That one thingy-- Immo-something!"
"Just wait,” Hermione hissed. “There’s nothing here... as long as we’re quiet, he’ll wander off on his own and cause trouble somewhere else..."
They didn't even spare a second to think about it, the moment Peeves’ laughter disappeared as he flew throught the roof-- there were much more important matters to focus on at the moment.
"Three minutes!" Hermione gasped, tripping over her own feet.
After what felt like an eternity, the doors to the hospital wing entrance came into view at the end of the corridor they'd made it to. They could hear Dumbledore speaking through the now-ajar door.
"I will lock you in. It is currently five minutes to midnight. Three turns should do it.... Good luck."
Dumbledore exited the wing, closing the door behind him and taking out his wand to lock it.
"Wait!" Lisa whispered sharply as they all ran forwards. Dumbledore looked up, and a wide smile appeared underneath the silver hair concealing his face.
"Well?" he asked quietly.
"We did it!" Harry breathed. "We-- we saved Sirius, and Buckbeak!"
Dumbledore beamed, a proud look on his face.
"Brilliant. None of you are any more hurt than before, I hope? Now--" he paused, listening for any sound in the hospital wing. "I think you've all left. Here, get inside now-- I'll lock you in--"
The four slipped back into the infirmary-- it was empty, save for Padma and Ron, both of them still lying unconsciously on their beds. As the lock clicked behind them, Harry, Hermione, and Lisa went to their own beds, while Draco pulled up a chair to put beside Harry's bed. In moments time, Madam Pomfrey came striding out her office.
"Was that the Headmaster leaving? May I finally look after my patients?"
She was in a very bad mood, though with a thoughtful look and a side-glance at the locked door, she sighed and handed out chocolates. Since all of them had enough sense to not test her at the moment, they accepted it quietly.
Madam Pomfrey stood over them, making sure they ate their chocolate, and walking back and forth between cabinets, searching for a potion Lisa was supposedly overdue for drinking. Right when she found it, there was a distant roar from somewhere above them, no doubt one of fury.
"What was that?" asked Madam Pomfrey airily, handing the potion to Lisa.
Now they could hear angry voices, growing louder and louder quite rapidly. Madam Pomfrey was staring at the door in obvious disdain.
"Really, they'll wake everybody up! What is so important they have to do it now?"
It wasn't very long until Harry could hear what the voices were saying with how fast they drew near--
"He must've Disapparated, Severus, we should've left somebody in the room with him. When this gets out--"
"HE DIDN'T DISAPPARATE! YOU CAN'T APPARATE OR DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS -- HAS -- SOMETHING -- TO -- DO -- WITH -- POTTER ! I KNOW IT!"
"Severus, be reasonable. Harley has been locked in the--"
BAM-- the door to the hospital wing flew open.
Fudge, Snape, and Dumbledore came striding in. Dumbledore looked calm-- infact-- he looked rather entertained. Fudge looked angry, but that felt like a sort of understatement in comarison to Snape, who was utterly beside himself.
"SAY IT, POTTER!" he bellowed. "WHAT -- DID -- YOU -- DO?"
"Professor Snape!" shrieked Madam Pomfrey. "Control yourself this instant!"
"Snape, Snape, you see here now," said Fudge lightly, putting a hand on Snape's shoulder. "the door's been locked, as we just saw--"
"THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!" Snape howled in denial. His face was twisted more violently than normal, and spit was flying out his mouth.
"Calm down, man, Merlin's sake!" Fudge barked. "You're talking nonsense! How would--"
"IT'S POTTER!" Snape shouted. "YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT POTTER'S CAPABLE OF! HE DID IT, I JUST KNOW HE DID IT--"
"Now, that is enough, Severus." said Dumbledore lowly. "Unless you suggest that these children have found a way to Apparate within castle walls-- or at all, for that matter-- then there is no way they lent a hand in Sirius Black's escape. Think properly. This door was locked ever since I left them ten minutes ago. And, Madam Pomfrey, have these students left?"
"Of course not!" said Madam Pomfrey sharply. "I've been with them ever since! But, sir, I may need a word with you sooner or later--"
"You'll forgive me, Poppy, but it'll have to be later. But, now you see, Severus," said Dumbledore. "And now that you know, I believe the children are due to rest soon. It may be time for us to take our leave."
Snape stood, seething and shaking. Fudge looked appalled. And suddenly, Snape whirled around, his robes swishing behind him, and stormed out the hospital wing.
"Poor fellow seems to need a bit of rest himself-- he's a good bit unbalanced, no?" said Fudge, staring after him. "I'd keep an eye on him if I were you, Dumbledore."
"Oh, he's not unbalanced." said Dumbledore quietly, a smile on his lips. "He's only suffered a grand disappointment. He'll be upright in no time at all."
"Not the only one disappointed, you know!" huffed Fudge. "The Prophet 'll have a field day! A party, I reckon! We had Black cornered and he slipped through our fingers again ! All it'll take for me to be an utter laughing stock is for the story of the Hippogriff's escape to get out! Urh... I best be on my way... I've got to inform the Ministry..."
"And the dementors?" asked Dumbledore. "They'll be removed at once, yes? As per our agreement, if Black had fled?"
"Uh, yes, they'll have to leave anyhow," Fudge muttered, running his hands through his hair. "Never would've thought they'd try to administer the Kiss on an innocent, young boy... utterly out of control. My deepest apologies, Harley.... If you wish for anything we can provide, just tell me whenever you get the chance... and to you, Dumbledore, I also apologise... they'll be returned to Azkaban at once... perhaps we could place dragons at the entrance...."
"I know quite a few people who wouldn't deny," said Dumbledore. "Now, Poppy, what was it you wanted to tell me?" He asked once Fudge left. Madam Pomfrey hurried over to lock the door before she responded.
"It may be better to not discuss so openly... my office may offer a bit more discretion..."
They disappeared behind a closed door, and Harry could hear them speaking, although what wasn't too clear.
"I think... I think I'll take that rest now," He mumbled, laying his head down. The beds of the hospital wing had never felt so comfortable, nor could he remember a time he ever had a sleep so dreamless, or so deep-- but it didn't matter; And he would take the chance to rest now, especially, because the past few hours had begun to catch up on him.
Although Madam Pomfrey put up quite the fight, they all were able to leave the hospital wing the next morning-- except for Padma, who'd yet to wake up. The castle was so deserted Harry would've suspected everyone had already gone home for the summer. But the sweltering heat and the end of exams meant everyone was actually most likely taking full advantage of the absence in their schedules for another Hogsmeade visit. Hermione, Ron, Lisa, and Draco didn't feel like going, and Harry couldn't go, so they wandered the grounds. None of them spoke a word, as though the events of the previous night still stood out in their mind so vividly that it hadn't fully processed.
They sat near the lake in silence-- well, it wasn't for long, because Lisa had to speak, and she and Ron began a very animated conversation, and then Hermione had to change the subject when whatever they were talking about had gotten a bit controversial, and Draco had to add what he thought to it, and very soon, Harry was the only one not talking. But he was okay with that, and presumably, his friends could tell he didn't want to talk at the moment-- which he was very grateful for. There were more important thoughts that took up his brain, anyhow.
Where was Sirius? Would he really pick up Harry and Hermione at King's Cross? Harry hoped he would. And Harry couldn't not wonder about it-- what if he and Hermione got to meet their mum over the summer? Where was Quinn-- even, where was their mother? What if.... There were so many things that could happen, so many things he couldn't even begin to suspect the possibility of.... It was all so complicated, it made his head hurt.
Harry didn't even notice the grand shadow casting over the group, but he did see a teary-eyed Hagrid, wiping his face with a large handkerchief, in the reflection of the water. However, despite his tears, he was beaming.
"Know I shouldn' feel happy af'er what happened las' night," he said. "I mean, Black escapin', and all'at tha' happened... glad you're all okay, I mean-- but guess what?"
"What happened, Hagrid?"
"Beaky! He's escaped! He's free-- bin celebratin' all night!"
"That's wonderful!" Hermione said cheerfully. Lisa smacked Ron's nose when she saw he was close to laughing. Draco's face held up a smile not all too unlike the one he did when he was forcing himself, though Hagrid couldn't tell the difference. Harry was happy, but he couldn't bring himself to show it. That too, however, went unnoticed by Hagrid, who was now gazing over the grounds.
"Didn' think I'd tied 'im up right... I was worried this mornin' an'... well, I thought he met Professor Lupin when he ran off, but Lupin says he never... ate... anythin' this mornin'..."
"You know? I thought only the staff knew," Hermione asked.
"Eh-- you lot haven' heard?" Hagrid's smile faltered. He lowered his voice, although for no reason, really. "Snape told all the Slytherins this mornin'... would'a guessed everybody knew by now... Lupin's a werewolf, y'see, an' he was loose las' night. Full moon, y'know. He's packin' up now, o'course."
"He's packing?" Harry asked lightly, jumping up. "Why's he packing?"
“Harry?” muttered Lisa, and she gestured to her the scars on her face. “All Professor Lupin. And Padma’s still knocked out, remember? She got it way worse than me.”
“Yup,” Hagrid nodded. "Resigned firs' thin' this mornin'. Says he can' risk anyone else gettin' hurt. Most the school thought he's the one tha' got y'all in the hospital wing..."
Harry scrambled to his feet, and Hermione popped up behind him.
"We'll be back," She said.
"Hermione, make sure he doesn't collapse on himself," whispered Lisa, though Harry heard anyway.
"Harry will be fine. Really. We'll be back soon." Hermione said, following Harry at a sprint, as he'd already begun to stride back up to the castle.
The door to Lupin's office stood open; Most of his things were already packed. The Grindylow's empty tank stood behind his battered suitcase, which was wide open and looked a shirt or two away from exploding. Lupin was standing over his desk, staring at something.
"I saw you both coming," he said, smiling weakly, before Harry could even knock. It was the Marauder's Map he was watching. Quinn was sat in his chair, tears running down his face. He gave Harry and Hermione a weak wave.
"It's not true, right?" Harry asked. "You're not-- you're not leaving, are you? Say you're not. You can't."
"I have to, Harry," replied Lupin, opening desk drawers to empty its contents. "I attacked two students. Even if I wanted to stay, I couldn't..."
Hermione frowned. "You're-- You're the best teacher we've had. And-- well, I know it’s terrible... but Lisa and Padma haven’t turned..."
Lupin shook his head, closing the door with the wave of his hand.
"The fact they could’ve been turned at all is the problem. It’s been a very long process, all morning... Professor Dumbledore was kind enough to testify on my part while I couldn't do so myself... it's thanks to him I'm not going to Azkaban. That, it seems, was the final straw for Severus. I don't know if it was the loss of the Order of Merlin, or if it was that you all managed to get off with no consequence-- how you freed Sirius, I doubt I'll ever know. So, he, accidentally let it slip that I was a werewolf at breakfast and how your friends really got hurt. I think it may have been better that you all were in the hospital wing. The students threw a fit-- I was only lucky I’d been let go before I could be forced out without my things."
"It was just unlucky,” Harry tried. “Lisa and Padma wouldn’t want you gone... you’re the best teacher we’ve ever had..."
Lupin smiled wryly.
"It’s for everyone’s safety. I'll be getting owls by tomorrow... parents won't want a werewolf teaching their children. I could've bitten any of you, we were lucky it was only a few scratches. It may not have happened then, but that doesn't make it impossible. I could've made your lives worse thousands... no, millions of times over. That window of possibility must never be open again. For you, any of the staff, or the other students."
Hermione was silent, but by the way her face slowly began to become a deep shade of scarlet, she had something she didn't want to say. Lupin then put on a sad smile.
"Professor Dumbledore tells me you two did a great deed yesterday. I'm proud of you both."
"I'm sorry," whispered Hermione. "I'm sorry for thinking you'd betray us. There was just-- so much going on, I couldn't think properly-- I--"
"It's okay," Lupin insisted, throwing books into his case. "You didn't know the whole story, and you shouldn't have been allowed to stay in the dark for so long. But I imagine I have something you'd like to hear about, Hermione."
"What?"
"Your parents had a kitten when you two were young, just like Crookshanks. Well, he was more Lily's than he was James or Regulus's. They both insisted he looked like he'd planted his tiny face into concrete, but Lily loved him. He loved you two when you were babies too, though I don't recall if the love was mutual, with how his tail was always being pulled. And he always was quite the odd thing... but I fear he may have died in the house. Ah, now-- speaking of family possessions--"
He turned around, and in his hands were the Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map.
"It's your birthright, and as I'm no longer your Professor, it'd be wrong to keep. Count it as an early birthday gift. And I've got a lot of birthdays to make up for."
Hermione took the Map, while Harry grabbed the cloak.
"I think Lily's been better." Lupin said, bending down to close his case. Around the desk, Quinn let out a particularly loud sob and rushed to grab Lupin’s arm.
“You can’t go,” He cried.
“I have to, Quinn,” said Lupin lowly.
At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Harry shrunk the cloak, shoving it in his pocket, and Hermione folded up the map until it was small enough to fit into her own pockets.
The door opened, and Professor Dumbledore entered the office. He didn't look surprised at all to see the three of them there.
"Your carriage is at the gates, Remus."
Quinn’s sobs got louder.
"Thank you, Headmaster."
Hesitantly, Harry forced his legs to move so he could hold Quinn. He didn’t want to, but Lupin was going to leave in the end anyway... Lupin picked up his suitcase with one hand and used his other arm entirely to carry the Grindylow tank.
"Goodbye, you three," he said, smiling brightly. "I couldn't be more grateful to be able to teach you all, and Harry, Hermione, it was a delight to see you again. I'm sure we'll meet again sooner or later. If you wouldn't mind giving my dear Sirius my greetings when you see him... Headmaster, there's no need to see me off. I can manage on my own."
"Goodbye then, Remus," said Dumbledore solemnly. Lupin shifted the tank so he and Dumbledore could shake hands. With one last glance to Harry, Hermione, and Quinn, followed by a swift smile, Lupin was gone.
Harry looked across the office. The presence Lupin had left over the school year was already fading. It felt empty, and Quinn’s shivering and crying didn’t make Harry feel any better. Lupin was gone.
"Harry, would you spare me a word?" asked Dumbledore silently.
"Of course, sir," Harry nodded, trying his best to not sound glum.
Dumbledore took a long glance at Quinn, then sighed.
"Madam Pomfrey has informed me she discovered injuries she states were... attained before the school year. And of injuries from even before you came to Hogwarts... I would like to know... are the Dursleys, daresay, treating you any less than adequately?"
For a split second, Harry thought it was him who’d had been shaking, but when Hermione took Quinn from his arms, covering his ears, he knew it wasn’t. Had Dumbledore... not known? Years, and he never knew? He wasn't going to stay silent today-- he couldn't. So, with his voice feeling stronger than it ever had before...
"A- lot less. They hate me-- they abuse me. Th-- they've abused me for... years. I've never hated anyone in my... in my entire life i-in the same way I hate them. I- never wanna go back. Please don't-- don't make me go back."
Dumbledore sighed again, a solemn look in his eyes.
"I would never. I'm so sorry, Harry, that I didn't notice any sooner. I was a fool, many years ago, and I've yet to find a way I can properly atone for it. I left Severus in charge of assuring you were taken care of-- I thought he'd get over his feud with James, atleast for your sake... I suspected long ago that he never did check, so I’d sent an old colleague of mine, and she thought... but when you came to Hogwarts, and I couldn't see any signs you grew up any differently than the average Muggleborn... I didn't think anything of it. Perhaps she’d misseen the signs..."
"Snape?" Hermione repeated. "He's the worst possible option you could've chosen! I-- I mean, not that I--"
"No, no, I understand. Snape is not the best of people... but at the moment, I have no choice but to keep him at my side. If I understand correctly, however... Sirius has offered you a place to stay, as Remus tells me?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry nodded, his voice now gone again.
"Yes... how fortunate. I will make arrangements for him to get you from the station..."
"Sir?" Harry croaked out. "What about-- about Pettigrew? I-- I heard Professor Trelawney make-- a- a prediction, and-- she was saying that... that Voldemort's servant would return to him before midnight. I think-- no- I- I'm sure it was Pettigrew she was talking about."
Dumbledore hummed.
“And he escaped,” Harry continued. “I- I don’t know what happened, but he’s gone.”
"Not at all your fault,” said Dumbledore at once. “He was sneakier than we once thought he couldn’t manage. I imagine, in a sliver of a moment where he had a chance.... But, truly, think about it, Harry... you saved Pettigrew's life, in one way or another, no? A very noble thing you have done. And, on his part, a fatal mistake. I have my doubts... with how many there are that escaped capture... but if Pettigrew does indeed turn out to be the one Professor Trelawney predicted, then you have sent Voldemort a servant that is in your debt. Pettigrew owes you his life, does he not? I do wonder how long he'll be put up with... I'd be quite mistaken if the day came in which Voldemort wants his servant in the debt of his enemy."
"But it'll be my fault Voldemort comes back in the first place! Because I couldn't stop Pettigrew from escaping--!"
"Harry, it would've happened nonetheless." said Dumbledore quietly. "Had Voldemort truly died, you would not still have that scar. Had he died, you would be lacking in knowledge that even you do not realise you have. There is a piece of him in you, and as long as that piece remains, so does he. There will be a day where you are grateful you saved Pettigrew's life-- where it will be a stab to Voldemort's sake. I know you both must be tired, very tired of hearing of your parents by now, but truly, it's what James would have done. Even knowing it was Pettigrew who betrayed him."
"Why?" Hermione asked. "How'd you--?"
"I know many things, Miss Granger. I knew your parents very well too. James... he may never have been able to find the strength to let his friends kill Pettigrew. Even if he wished him dead. I knew James very well, as did I know Regulus and Lily, both at Hogwarts and afterwards. You both truly are like them, in more ways than even I am capable of knowing. And while now, it may seem a futile thought, it may serve you some relief in one way..."
"Sir," Harry blurted. "I-- last night, when-- when I was seeing myself-- my- casting my Patronus, I- I thought it was our mum. I just-- I wanted to know if- if you knew how she's been. If she's really gotten better, like- like Professor Lupin and Sirius have said."
Quinn jumped up, and he forced Hermione’s hands off his ears. “Mum’s great! She’s sent me tons of letters-- her spelling’s a bit wonky, but it’s a lot better than it was when school started!”
"Oh, yes," said Dumbledore, smiling and nodding at Quinn. "She’s gotten along quite tremendously. She’s been delighted to hear of you both during the school year... too afraid to send a letter herself, I imagine. If I dared ask, I’d suddenly be out of a pen-pal for atleast two weeks..."
Both Harry and Hermione were gaping.
"Mum's okay?" Hermione repeated. "She's really okay?"
Dumbledore nodded, a bright smile on his face.
Hermione pulled Harry into a very tight hug in nearly an instant. His arms were oddly limp, however. His whole body felt limp. Mum was okay. But then, another thought crossed Harry's mind.
"What about my Patronus?"
"Ah," Dumbledore hummed lightly. "I remember seeing the form it took. Ms Runcorn was quite frightened. A dragon, wasn't it? The last time I saw someone who'd managed that was long, long ago... he was as brilliant as you... less than, even. You remind me of him very often. A grand will for survival and excellence... a brilliant sense of right and wrong... ambitious and very brave... Take it however you may wish, Harry, but I see it as a sign. A sign that you are more than what you seem. You're capable of a greatness beyond that of others. "
Harry struggled to find a reply. Instead, he nodded, his throat tight, watching as Dumbledore left the office with a smile.
Quinn was the first to make any noise, sniffling again as he looked around the office.
“I miss Uncle Moony.”
“We do too.”
Nobody else in Hogwarts knew the truth behind what really happened that night, save for Harry and his friends, as well as Dumbledore. As the end of term grew nearer, more and more theories popped up on how things "happened," but none of them came anywhere near close to the truth.
Lyra-- Draco’s younger sister-- came storming up to their group one multiple times, asking over and over again that Draco hadn't gotten attacked by Buckbeak again. If his glare was anything to go by, he was tired of it-- she hadn’t cared in the slightest, however. She was snivelling almost every time she came looking for them, and would walk off muttering to her friends about how she'd have Buckbeak's head if he ever dare to try. It was sort of endearing to watch, because past the glares and scoffs and “I’m fine, for the umpteenth time!”'s, Draco was almost always in a better mood after it.
Every day, even though the weather was perfect and the atmosphere a like never-ending fountain of joy, and while Harry should've been among the many who were excited with all that'd happened, he'd yet to join in on the happiness.
He'd helped Sirius, but he lost Professor Lupin in the process, one of the best Defence teachers they had so far, and by the current track record, he'd probably remain the best for a while.
And then there was Professor Trelawney's prediction that had made an imprint in the side of Harry's mind. Where was Pettigrew now? Surely, he and Voldemort had already reconciled... Trelawney predicted it would be before midnight... or maybe it wasn't Pettigrew she predicted. But it didn't really matter, in the end.... It’d been a long... year. But there was a weight off his shoulders that he never imagined he'd manage to be free of.
He wouldn't have to return to the Dursleys. The horrible Dursleys, who hurt him, locked him in a cupboard, and lied to him for so many years about the truth. He wouldn't have to go back. Hopefully, ever. No, not hopefully... he would never return.
He wouldn't go back, and it would be his own choice if he ever did, because nobody could make him... never again... he hardly imagined he’d ever return, no matter what; it wasn't as if he had anything worthwhile to go back for. Maybe small books he'd stolen from time to time-- books of which he could easily replicate if he ever wanted to read them-- and not much else. He never bothered to keep anything that mattered to him there.
The exam results, which came out early morning on the last day of term, were the perfect distraction. Harry, Padma, Lisa, Ron, Hermione, and Draco had all passed their exams; Mostly. Padma barely passed History of Magic and Astronomy, muttering about how she didn't like either of them anyway, and Lisa got a less than adequate grade in Transfiguration. She'd rant to anyone who'd listen about how she "only made one mistake" and that Charms was much better of a class.
Harry decided he'd drop Arithmancy; He’d had enough of that mess... numerology-- Hermione and Padma could stick to that. That'd leave him with just his normal classes, Care for Magical Creatures, Divination (sadly, he'd rather risk the chance of going mental if it meant he could hear another prediction; It was better to be aware, he figured), and Ancient Runes. Ancient Runes, despite it being among his lower grades, was rather useful. He didn't know how to put it down on paper, but he knew how to do them.
Apparently, that didn't mean much on the written half of the exams. But it'd matter when the day came that he needed him, wouldn’t it? Maybe.
Although, he was surprised by the fact he didn't have a poor grade on Potions. Either Dumbledore stepped in to stop him from being failed, or he actually didn't do as bad as he initially suspected-- he preferred the latter, as unlikely as if were to ever happen, given that he couldn't tell draught from concoction from potion.
Ron invited Harry, Padma, Lisa, and Draco(begrudgingly) to sit at Gryffindor table at dinner that night-- Percy was ecstatic, saying he'd gotten his top-grade NEWTs and was 'destined to be future Minister'; Fred and George mimicked him, bragging about the handful of OWLs they'd scraped.
Ravenclaw won the House Championship thanks to their brilliant performance in the Quidditch Cup(and not to mention that they won, so that definitely helped), and the feast was decorated in indigo and bronze, and the Great Hall had faded into a buzz of joy and excitement, everyone discussing the year's events.
Harry realised he'd been limiting himself to the lesser side of things for longer than he'd thought-- for the first time in days, he’d never been happier; It was as if he'd been hit with a Cheering Charm. He felt truly amazing, to his own surprise.
The Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station the next morning, and they crammed themselves in the one compartment they seemed to always find their way into.
He was listening to them all talk, at first, but words faded into obscurity when they reached Harry's ears as he found himself watching Hogwarts disappear from the window's view. The year echoed in his mind; It went by so fast, yet so slow at the same time, and even though he hadn't almost died as he had the last two school years, this year in particular felt the most eventful.
A tap on his shoulder broke Harry from his thoughts.
"Harry? I don't know if you were listening, but we're planning on going to the Quidditch World Cup," said Lisa. "Ron says his dad can get tickets, and I doubt Draco's parents would have any problem getting some. They're, like, super rich. Purebloods, whatever, I don't care. You wanna go?"
"Sure," shrugged Harry, turning away from the window. He had better things to do than staring at the castle, which was long gone from view. He already felt better, joining the others in a few games of Exploding Snap; Ron was winning by a landslide-- apparently, he'd lost enough times to Fred and George to know the best strategies.
When the trolley witch arrived, Harry bought himself a large lunch-- though he avoided the chocolate. He got a weird feeling looking at it. The events after that flew by in a blur-- infact-- he didn't even know when, but he'd fallen asleep sometime between then and somewhere late in the afternoon.
"Harry," Draco whispered, tapping the side of his face. "This thing has a letter for you."
It took a moment for Harry to open his eyes, because the sun, now high in the sky, was very blinding, but when he did, it didn't seem like the thing looking him in the eyes was real.
A very tiny, grey owl, carrying a letter all too big for it, was fluttering before him, almost like a discoloured, fluffy Snitch. When Harry reached out his hand, it fell immediately, nudging his thumb with its head. Hydrus hissed out in a sort of rage, something along the lines of how he didn't like sharing. Sly trilled, seemingly in agreement.
The letter was addressed to Harry, reasonably, and ripped it open quickly.
It was from his mum.
He read over the entire letter, and then over it again. He couldn't believe his eyes. It was real, surely, and as much of a prankster he learned Sirius was, he doubted it went this far. It had to be a real letter from her.
Dear Harry,
Hi. I'm your mother, Lily. I don't know if anyone told you I wasn't dead. Quinn said he did, but it’s a bit hard to tell if he knows, sometimes. I've been in St. Mungo's for a long, long time now, and I was only released very recently.
Sirius tells me you've been well. I'm sorry that I couldn't ever do anything for you or your sister (please tell her I said hi), but my recovery has been advancing and I've been working hard to make it up to you both. Sirius told me he will be picking you up from the Station, and I've heard plenty of what happened this year. I think you did spectacular at the Quidditch Final. I haven't been able to get in contact with Herminee's parents(did I spell her name right?) but I look forward to seeing you nonetheless.
On another note, Sirius has been approved for a proper trial. And speaking of, I don't know if he got the chance to tell you, but he was the one that sent you the Firebolt back during Christmas. He told me recently that he imagined it'd make up for atleast two Christmases. He's ridiculous, really. Do tell your sister we're sorry for not knowing to get her a present.
See you soon. My best regards until we can meet face to face.
- P.S:
I heard your friend lost his "pet rat." If he'd ever like a new little buddy, I've got a friend who handles baby crups(if he's the kind that likes crups), and an owl isn't out of the question if that's what he’d like.
"What is it?" asked Lisa. "Who's it from?"
Harry looked up, and the first pair of eyes he saw was Hermione's.
"Mum."
"You're lying." She said swiftly, jumping up. "Really? Harry, give it to me!"
She swiped the letter out of his hands, and her eyes ran from one end of it to the other multiple times over. Squealing, she sprang across the compartment, pulling Harry into a hug.
"Seriously?" asked Draco, putting the book in his hands to the side.
"Siriusly... Black?" said Lisa mockingly.
"Ha-ha. Very funny. Really though, is it actually?"
"YES!" Harry blurted. "I mean-- yes!”
"Sirius did tell us he'd pick us up from the station," muttered Hermione as she went back to her seat.
"That sounds like an awesome summer in the making," Ron smiled. "Sirius is getting a trial, you get to see your mum, and we get to go to the Quidditch World Cup!"
Maybe an hour had passed before Lisa had suddenly asked what was, maybe, the first time she’d ever asked anything of the like--
“Ron, I know it's kinda last minute, but does your family have space for me over the summer?"
"I'unno. We might. I think either Charlie or Bill's gonna be staying with us for the Quidditch Cup... I can ask. Why?"
"Um-- my... parents may... or may not be... moving to... well, um, moved, to, um... America ?" Lisa said slowly, practically whispering. The compartment went quiet in nearly an instant. "I mean-- maybe, I haven't gotten a letter saying anything since... um, May, I don't think, but I don't know why they'd ever really move to America, it's just my lame grandparents that live down there, and--"
"Lisa, you're kidding." Padma finally spoke up. "You said they weren't going to move. You told me that you'd say something if--"
"Well I didn't think they would! But they... did! Yeah! They got on the plane and left, okay? They - left me! I didn't know how to tell anyone!"
"You could've just told us that you needed a place to stay!"
"How was I supposed to? You said your parents wouldn’t let me stay, if I asked Harry, literally any time before Sirius offered him a place to stay, we'd probably have to find a place for both of us to stay because his aunt and uncle would throw us out before we could even walk in, and I just asked Ron, and I didn't even know what Hermione was going to be doing! And not to mention Draco's purebloods-above-all parents, because I'm not exactly pure by stupid wizarding standards! What the hell was I supposed to do?"
"Lisa, I'm serious right now! You could've said anything, and we would've figured something out like we always do!"
"I'm tired of 'figuring things out,' Padma! I want to know ! And, you know, I can't fucking know when we're too busy trying to study for exams and find a way for Buckbeak to not get executed, because who wants to look at places I can stay for two months inbetween Potions textbooks and laws from the 1960s? I'm sorry for not being one of those assholes who know what they're doing under pressure, so would you give me a goddamn break for trying?!"
“Atleast speak up for yourself! Your dad--”
“Oh, don’t start on speaking up for myself! Your parents would just love to hear that, wouldn’t they-- perfect little Padma, never says a word, huh, that ring any bells?”
She flung the compartment door open, storming out as she threw a kick at Padma's knee. When the door slammed back shut, Padma buried her face in her hands, and sharp breaths turned into sobbing.
"Great," muttered Ron confusedly. "What the bloody hell just happened?"
"They got into a fight... er, because Lisa didn't tell anyone that she had nowhere to go when the school year ended?" Draco said. “What, did you not catch on?”
"Wow, thanks so much for that very descriptive insight, Malfoy, because that helps so much,"
"Excuse me for answering your bloody question, Weasley-- next time, I’ll just let you feel as stupid as you look--"
"Would you two stop fighting?!" Hermione shrieked. "God, it's like it's impossible for you two to get along!"
"It's Malfoy !"
"It's Weasley !"
Harry stood up, deciding he'd rather go search for Lisa than try to stop the inevitable fight that was likely about to break out. Things had been very well a moment ago-- he’d like to pretend, atleast for a minute, that they were still fine. He tried to imagine where Lisa could've gone-- there was no other compartment she could've gone to that quickly, right? He didn’t think anyone else wouldn't even let her in; It had become a school-wide speculation that she was now a werewolf. Harry asked a couple people if they'd seen her anywhere, but nobody did. It got to the point where he had to go back to the compartment, because he couldn't find her anywhere and the train was slowly losing speed. He hoped she'd gone back to the compartment, but she hadn't.
She didn't come back to get her luggage, so Harry had to take it out to the station platform. He could see Sirius leaning against a pillar, but casting a glance over the platform didn't grant him even a strand of pinkish-blonde hair. Lisa was nowhere to be seen.
Well, for a minute or two, that was the case; He spotted a familiar bird sitting atop the train. and purple, beady eyes stared at him. That was Lisa, he knew it. The eyes, the colour of the feathers-- and not to mention the scars that now showed through her Animagus form.
Before he knew it, she was on his arm, wings suddenly pressed against his neck.
“What? You- look, I haven’t got any problem with you staying with us during the summer, if you can, but I’m not carrying your luggage for you. You either get it yourself or leave it.”
Lisa flew away at once, disappearing behind a pillar and returning human.
“Thanks for being... acting, normal.”
"Yeah," Harry nodded. "Just, can we go now?"
Hermione, who previously stood behind him, was now ahead of him, walking up to Sirius. He noticed her immediately, and he was easily able to recognise her-- she'd stopped wearing her contacts only yesterday, but the change was noticeable-- infact, many people had mistaken her for Harry, because she'd been asked more than once why she had a Gryffindor tie.
"Hermione!"
Sirius's barking laughter echoed over that of the entire platform as he pulled Hermione into a hug. Harry couldn't fight his smile while he walked over to them, and before he knew what was happening, Sirius pulled him into the hug aswell.
"Where's the short one?"
"Uh, wouldn't know," shrugged Hermione. "I don't think we saw him on the train."
"He's here," Harry said, pointing at a small head of red hair he spotted approaching.
"Quinn!"
"Padfoot, Padfoot!"
Quinn ran over to Sirius, nearly tripping over his own feet, his arms flapping like a bird. Sirius caught him and Quinn was nearly sent flying, as Sirius picked him up.
"Heya, pup!"
"I'm not a puppy!"
"Well, I think-- you are! A giant puppy-dog!"
Quinn frowned and suddenly seemed very uninterested in seeing Sirius at all.
"Oh, no, don't give me the silent treatment, pup, I was just kiddin'--"
"I'm not a puppy," repeated Quinn.
"Fine, you're not a puppy. Are you happy?"
Quinn nodded. "Okay."
"This is adorable," said Lisa.
"Isn't it?"
Harry jumped when he heard Lupin's voice beside him, and, from the looks of it, so did Lisa and Hermione. Lupin looked rather tired, but he gave a gentle smile, nonetheless.
"Uncle Moony!" Quinn forced himself out of Sirius's arms and held onto Lupin's. "You're not gone!"
"I'm not."
"Did Padfoot keep his promise?"
"He did, yes,"
Quinn's face was very content as he was hugged.
"I thought you said we wouldn't see you?" Harry asked, and Lupin's smile got larger.
"Sirius surprised me, when I left the station after my resignation. I'd been planning to stay at my home for the summer, and Sirius was not going to allow that," Lupin chuckled. "He and Lily insisted I should be staying with them, and, well, here I am."
"Where are we staying, anyway?" asked Hermione, and Sirius's face suddenly fell.
"My old family home," he muttered, "I'm not able to buy any... estates, until my name's cleared, and I was blocked out of the wards for the other houses long ago. Kept breaking heirlooms, or something..."
"What about the France house you mentioned?"
"Abolished. Nobody was paying for it for, more or less, seven years."
"Oh. Er, how far away is the, er, family home?"
"It's a walk," said Lupin, when Sirius didn't answer. "Less than, around half an hour. It works out very well, actually-- Sirius can tell you all about his times at Hogwarts. I'm sure he has much more interesting stories than me..."
Sirius frowned, "I'd rather go back to homelessness."
"You're being childish," Lupin said, smiling. "It's been a while already-- it won't be the death of you to return."
"Padfoot," said Quinn, tugging on Sirius's hand. "Can we go and see the house, now?"
"Of course," Sirius muttered, teeth gritted and his face dark. "Let's go."
Lisa suddenly hit Harry's shoulder.
"Oh-- right! Er- could- Lisa stay with us? Over the summer?"
"What?"
Sirius turned around quickly, and Lupin's face fell when he saw Lisa's face.
"Sure," Sirius shrugged. "Can she sleep on a couch?"
"Yeah,"
"Then I don't care. Moony?"
Lupin had been examining the scars across the side of Lisa's face.
"Yes," he muttered, turning his head to Sirius. "Er, let's... hurry. I'm sure Lily's very ready to see her children in person..."
The walk was very awkward. Remus and Lisa had been very tense, and Sirius was apparently unable to pick up on the fact, telling all kinds of stories with a very large smile.
"And we never tried that again," He finished, as they turned down a Muggle street. "James nearly lost his arm. But he thought it was bloody hilarious-- which is why we're never telling Lily about it. If she ever hears, she'll curse my arse into oblivion."
The surrounding buildings looked incredibly unwelcoming-- nearly every place had moss or mould growing up the front, and a few had broken windows, blocked by tape and whatever else. It was already a bit dark out, and the dim, flickering street lights made it feel darker. There was rubbish at several front steps.
"This is," Hermione started, looking around cautiously. "something."
Sirius snorted, as Quinn's hand latched onto his. "Just wait until you see the house. It's dreadful."
"We've cleaned up a bit," said Lupin, when he saw the looks on the rest of their faces. "It looks better now."
Eventually, they came to a stop; They were standing at the street, just before number eleven. To the right, however, was number thirteen.
"Did they forget number twelve or something?" Harry asked, and Sirius smiled. "I wish. It's bloody hell in there. Give it a minute-- think about, er, number twelve, Grimmauld Place."
Harry, despite his own suspicions, thought. Number eleven looked the same as the rest, with peeling, dirty paint, and the curtains were drawn, and beside it, number thirteen nearly looked worse.
"What--"
Suddenly, the air in front of them seemed to split. A battered door seemed to materialise out of nowhere, followed by the same dirty walls and grimy windows. He was no longer before number eleven, but now, number twelve.
"See it?" asked Sirius, a grin on his face. "It's like an anti-Muggle charm. They can't tell the difference, either."
"That's cool," said Lisa, as they all walked up the worn steps. As they got closer, Harry could see the door better-- the pain was shabby, scratched, and peeling, and the silver doorknocker was shaped like a serpent; However, there was not a keyhole or doorbox.
After a moment, Lupin stepped forward, wand in hand. He tapped the door once, and in an instant, there was atleast twenty or so loud, metallic clicks and what sounded like the clatter of a chain. The door creaked open.
"Welcome," said Sirius, stepping forward to push the door fully open. "to the worst place you'll ever be."
Harry snorted. "Didn't you go to Azkaban?" He asked, and Sirius shrugged. "Azkaban's a close second. They don't cast Unforgivables when you're rude."
They stepped over the threshold into near total darkness, and once Lupin pulled the door shut behind them, it was too dark to see at all. All there was was a weird, damp, rotting smell. A sudden hissing noise made Harry jump, as old-fashioned gas lamps sputtered into life all along the walls, casting a flickering insubstantial light over the peeling wallpaper and threadbare carpet of a long, gloomy hallway. He could now clearly see a cobwebby chandelier glimmered overhead and age-blackened portraits hung crooked on the walls, and he heard something scuttling behind the baseboard. Both the chandelier and the candelabra on a rickety table nearby were shaped like serpents.
"I don't like it here," said Quinn at once, and Lupin pulled him close. "It's alright-- this is just the hallway. But, er, be quiet. There are... things, in the house we've yet to find."
"What?" Hermione was suddenly very uneasy. "Why've we got to be quiet, though?"
"It's complicated," said Sirius. "After... er, Mum... died, tons of things moved in to make sure the place was still as terrible with her gone-- for the most part. And then there's-- eurgh- Kreacher."
"Who's Kreacher?"
Even Lupin was hesitant to answer. "You'll see."
As they passed through the hallway, Harry saw far too many questionable things-- first, past a pair of long, moth-eaten curtains, and given Sirius and Lupin's hesitant, suspicious glances, Harry supposed he didn't want to know whatever was behind it, and after skirting a large umbrella stand that looked as though it had been made from a severed troll’s leg, they turned a corner, then down a narrow flight of stairs, and appeared in the kitchen.
It was scarcely less gloomy than the hall above, a cavernous room with rough stone walls. Most of the light was coming from a large fire at the far end of the room. A haze of pipe smoke hung in the air like battle fumes, through which loomed the menacing shapes of heavy iron pots and pans hanging from the dark ceiling. A woman was murmuring, moving back and forth, and all that was left in her hurrying was the sight of dark red hair, very similar to Quinn's--
"Lily!" Sirius called, and she jumped, nearly falling over in her shock.
"Oh," she said, after turning around. "Sirius, you scared me! I thought-- ooh, I almost thought you were Kreacher! He’s been pestering me all day..."
“Mumma!” Quinn immediately ran to hug her, and she laughed happily, hoisting him up into the air. She put him down and looked over the entirety of their group, giving Harry the chance to see green and brown eyes-- the only difference between hers from his and Hermione’s was that she didn’t have the diamond pupils. She looked exactly like the pictures. The dark red hair, the eyes, the freckles, the pale skin-- though the scars, visible everywhere there was skin, were new.
She stepped closer, reaching out a shaking hand, and touched Harry's cheek the moment she was close enough. Then her other hand reached out to Hermione. She gasped, tears filling her eyes.
"You're real. My babies... you're real.. I don't believe it.... I thought I'd never...."
She pulled them both into a hug swiftly, and her sobbing sounded loud in the silence. Harry’s eyes burned-- no- he was crying. He was crying with all he had, to the point he was getting a headache, but he didn't mind. He'd bare it if he could have this moment. He dreamed of this moment for years, for so many years, and never once did he think the day would ever come where it came true, no matter how many times he wished for it.
This wasn't a dream. He was holding his mum's back so tightly that it had begun to hurt his hand, but he didn't mind that either. Anything was worth this moment-- twelve years of waiting, but he deemed that perfectly fine, because nothing would ever compare to this moment. Nothing even could.
It was a while before any of them let go, but it became almost a wonder when they did.
"Look at you two!" Lily cried, pulling away, wiping tears from her cheeks. "So grown up! So much like James-- you both look so much like him! I can't believe it! God, it's been so long..."
"I can't either," Hermione was laughing and crying.
"Is this one of your friends, then?"
She nodded towards Lisa, who'd been staring at the ground.
"Hi,"
"I'm Lily. You must be Lisa."
"You know me?"
"Remus... told me. And, er... I think we have enough rooms--"
"No, no, it's okay. I'll sleep on a couch... or something. I can sleep anywhere."
"Oh, nonsense. Sirius, do you think Kreacher could make her a bed, or something?"
"Maybe. If the prick 'll do anything for anyone that's not my mother, it'd be a bloody shock. And you know he doesn't clean anyway, stupid, wrinkled little--"
"We'll have to hope, I suppose."
After a minute, Quinn took a nervous glance around and asked, quietly, “What's for dinner, mumma?”
“Spaghetti,” said Lily kindly, “your favourite. Harry, Hermione, would either of you like anything different?”
"Spaghetti sounds nice," said Hermione, turning to look at Harry. "what do you think?"
"I'd love spaghetti," Harry nodded.
"Brilliant,” Lily smiled. “Sirius, show them to their rooms, won't you? And, Remus, can you help me cook? Er-- the pans... they keep-- biting me.”
Lupin took a cautious glance at the pans overhead. “We'll get new pans. Those-- they don't stop biting. I've no clue why...”
“Bet my mother cursed them,” Sirius muttered, leading Harry, Hermione, Lisa, and Quinn out the basement. They climbed back up the narrow staircase and down the same hallway they came from; Sirius put his finger to his lips, gesturing they be quiet, as they approached the curtains again. Harry and Hermione were able to move around the troll-umbrella thing, but Lisa tripped right over it, and at the noise, the curtains flew open-- for a second, Harry thought it was a living, gaunt-looking woman on the other side, and that he were looking through a one-sided mirror-- but taking a second glance, he was very aware that he was not, as she took on a horrifying look, screaming bloody murder.
She was drooling, her eyes were rolling, the yellowing skin of her face stretched taut as she screamed. All along the hall behind them, the other portraits awoke and began to yell too, yet none of them were as loud as her, as she pointed at Sirius and wailed-- "YOOOOU! YOU- YOU- YOU! YOU BLOOD TRAITOR- ABOMINATION- SHAME OF MY FLESH! YOU SHOULD'VE--"
"Been more like Regulus, yes!" Sirius roared back, and he was pointing at her too. "WELL I'M NOT! AND LOOK WHERE YOU ARE NOW, YOU BLOODY OLD HAG! I'M NOT A PORTRAIT LIKE YOU, AM I?"
The woman took only a single breath, looking downright stunned, but then screamed louder than ever. "TRAITOR! YOU SHOULD'VE DIED WITH PRIDE-- FOR THE FAMILY! NOT BEEN A FILTHY, DISAPPOINTMENT! DISAPPOINTMENT, DISAPPOINTMENT!"
"OH, SHUT UP!" Sirius shouted, working to force the curtains shut. The moment they finally closed, the woman's shrill screams were no more. Sirius took a long sigh. "My dear old mum, kids. Been dead for nearly ten years, and she's still a right bitch. Don't go anywhere near her, unless you want your ears to start bleeding. She was a nightmare when she was alive, you'd think death would make her quieter."
Quinn stared at the curtains, frowning. "She's mean."
"Isn't she," nodded Sirius, leading them up a staircase. The weirdest thing they'd passed in the house now, was a row of shrunken, wrinkled heads mounted on plaques on the wall.
"That's... disgusting," muttered Lisa, staring at them. After a second, she recoiled. "Eurgh-- are those-- are those house elves?"
Hermione gasped. “What?!”
"Yes," said Sirius. "You'd be surprised at how many families did this-- mind, used to do it. I don't care now, but... well, the family got really interested in keeping them around, if they did good enough to... earn... it. It's hard to explain--"
"This house is hard to explain," Harry blurted, and Sirius laughed, his loud barking laughter beginning another round of screams from Mrs Black's portrait. He turned at once, before they even reached the landing, "Just pick any room-- they're all clean on this floor-- it's time I try curses on this bloody portrait--"
And he disappeared back down the stairs, out of sight.
Hermione hummed, heaving a heavy breath and glancing back at the house-elf heads. "Any room," she repeated, once they reached the landing. "Right. Er, come on Quinn, let's go find one for you... I’m sure we can find one that’s very cosy..."
The look on her face said enough, as she took Quinn's hand and walked with him down the hallway.
This was going to be a long summer.