Friendly Fire
“Poison.”
“No.”
“Torture?”
“No.”
“How do you want to do it then?”
Harry hummed, his mind far away from the murder Sirius was plotting. Sirius was furious, more angry than Harry had ever seen him - which was nice. Harry was distracted from any thought of Snape with something twice as important.
“What do you think he meant?” Harry mused. Harry was laying on his back on the lawns, a practice snitch flying around that he continued to absently catch then release. With Sirius sitting cross-legged beside him, it could have been a glimpse out of Snape’s pensieve that Harry once had been in.
But they weren’t fifteen, they weren’t James and Sirius. They were Harry and Sirius sitting on the lawns well past curfew and Sirius was planning to kill Snape while Harry ignored the throbbing in his cheek to ponder what Snape had told him. Every student over third year and many of the professors offered to heal Harry’s cheek when they saw him - it was starting to bruise and it ached, but Harry wanted it to stay there.
Snape could see it the next time Harry was in his classroom, because apparently Severus Snape could slap a student with his full strength and remain employed. It had been humiliating, painful, and there were no repercussions.
It galled Harry to know Snape wasn’t being fired, just as it did many of the students who approached him. It had taken no time for the story to spread through the castle that Harry Potter had accused Professor Snape of being involved in the death of his parents and was slapped for it. The Gryffindors had been yelling about it in the corridors, the Slytherin students offering Harry their strange silent support. Every first year in the castle sought Harry out to see the proof for themselves.
Harry didn’t care about any of it, not really. Harry had been more interested in the strange words of warning that Snape had given him. Mixed in with the usual insults had been very specific warnings — Snape called Harry a liability, he called him a traditionalist with less than golden connections. Beneath everything else, Snape had seemed to warn Harry about Dumbledore.
Which… Harry wasn’t sure what to think about that.
Dumbledore knew Harry went to the Ministry to rescue Sirius. He had to know - if Snape knew then Dumbledore knew. And then after locking Sirius away for months… Dumbledore told him to go to the Ministry. Maybe Dumbledore thought they needed as much help as they could get - or maybe he didn’t mind sending ‘mass murderer and prison escapee’ Sirius Black directly in the Ministry.
Maybe Sirius had become a liability.
“Siri… the day of the battle, what were you doing?” Harry asked, releasing the snitch and lazily plucking it right back from the air. Harry’s bracelet shined in the darkness of the night and was a consistent reassurance that Harry wasn’t tackling everything alone - he had Sirius.
“The day of the battle?” Sirius looked up from the book he was reading, one he brought from Grimmauld Place and mentioned was outlawed in three different ways. He stared off in the distance for a moment, gathering his thoughts probably.
“Buckbeak was hurt, I went to tend to him, then I got the alert that you were at the Ministry and needed me,” Sirius said. “Why?”
“What exactly did the message say?” Harry asked, trying to piece together a puzzle that he didn’t like the looks of so far.
“It was Dumbledore’s patronus and it said: ‘Harry’s at the Ministry with Voldemort’, or something similar.”
Harry released the snitch, caught it again.
“You’re sure?” he checked. “You’re positive that he told you Voldemort was there?”
“Yes.”
The snitch slipped between Harry’s fingers and flew away, Harry didn’t notice. Harry sat up and frowned toward the castle, toward the school that he had faced danger after danger at.
“Voldemort wasn’t there,” Harry said slowly. “It was a dozen death eaters. If he was going to show up… How would Dumbledore know that?”
Why would Dumbledore assume that Voldemort, who had been hidden for an entire year, would show up at the Ministry? Why would he keep Sirius on the sidelines for a year then call him in for a fight? In the time it took Dumbledore to send Sirius the message… He could have shown up to the fight himself.
“I need a pensieve,” Harry declared. He stood up and looked down at where Sirius was sprawled on the ground. “You reckon we can ask Dobby to buy one and bring it to us?”
“We could.” Sirius held a hand out and Harry pulled him to his feet. “Or we could steal one.”
It was going to kill Harry, how much he loved Sirius. It was painful, remembering how Sirius had lunged at Snape and attacked him on Harry’s behalf. When had anyone cared that much about a single slap to Harry’s face? It caused an ache in Harry’s chest to think about Sirius, ridiculously wealthy, wanting to steal a pensieve rather than buy one just for the thrill of it.
If Harry lost him… if anything ever happened to Sirius…
Harry didn’t know what he’d do, but he imagined it wouldn’t be pretty.
“Alright,” Harry agreed, giving in to the much more complicated route than a simple purchase would be. Harry would give in to anything Sirius wanted to do, it was sickening.
“Great!” Sirius beamed just as Harry hoped he would. “Snivellus or Albus?”
Considering the memories that Harry wanted to examine…
“You reckon Dumbledore added security to his office after you stole our cloak?” Harry asked.
“Probably.” Sirius plucked up the book he had been pulling murder plots from and fetched the snitch that Harry forgot about. He handed the snitch to Harry then winked when he took Harry’s free hand in his.
“Where’s the fun without a little danger?”
The danger was going to be for Dumbledore if he had the bad luck to catch them. Sirius wasn’t only enraged that Snape had struck Harry, he had been outraged to discover that he wasn’t being sacked.
Harry had his cloak and Sirius had his map, it turned out that Sirius wanted one more thing before they went to rob the Headmaster.
“Peeves,” Harry said disbelievingly. “He won’t help us.”
“Of course he will.” Sirius was beneath the cloak, scanning the map to find the poltergeist. It only took Harry one glance of the map to see that Snape was in his quarters… alongside Lupin. Harry wanted to point that out to Sirius, but he wasn’t sure how much more Sirius could take that day.
Another time.
“Second floor,” Sirius declared after spotting Peeves. “Let’s go!”
Harry didn’t know what he expected when they found Peeves on the second floor, taunting a portrait of pixies, but it wasn’t the glee Peeves had at teaming up with Sirius.
“My itsy bitsy trouble maker!” Peeves zoomed to Sirius and his face stretched out in a horrible smile. “Old Peevesie thought you forgot about me!”
“Me? Never!” Sirius declared with a dramatic salute. “I came to see if you’d want to pull another prank.”
“Me? Oh, I’m honored.” Peeves flipped over so he was peering at Sirius upside down in mid-air. “Are we gathering up all the fishies and slapping the bat? Catfish, bat bit—”
Sirius laughed and Harry even cracked a smile. Harry had never seen Peeves befriend any student, though Fred and George had been close to it.
“I actually need back in that office,” Sirius told Peeves. “I thought maybe I’d cast a few of those spells I owe you and you can make a real ruckus for me.”
There was a real glint of mischief in Peeves’s eyes, something that shouldn’t have been possible.
“Any spells?” Peeves asked slowly. “That was the deal, itsy bitsy black spider.”
“That was the deal.” Sirius pulled his wand and twirled it gracefully. “What were you thinking?”
Peeves sounded positively unhinged when he laughed and it should have been ominous. Harry should have been against any sort of widespread terror… but Harry was also against teachers smacking students and not being sacked, so he decided that he would simply adjust to the new world he found himself in.
Harry spent the next hour running about the castle, helping two dramatic, theatric, and outrageous lovers of pranks set up an escalating series of pranks.
At Sirius’s command, a dozen enlarged rats were going to be let loose in the kitchen. Then twenty fireworks were going to be set off in the Astronomy Tower, aimed toward the seventh floor to disturb every portrait they had. If that wasn’t enough to lure Dumbledore from his office, Peeves had a grand finale that included half of the suits of armor, Mrs Norris, and a sword that Sirius charmed to remain on fire for hours.
It was a chaotic mess and had Sirius shaking with silent laughter as they moved to hide across from the gargoyles that blocked Dumbledore’s office.
“I hope Peeves drops the sword and burns down this fucking castle,” Sirius whispered, his eyes on the map in his hands. “Places, Peeves…”
Harry stayed quiet while Sirius watched the map. Dumbledore was in his office, not his quarters, and Harry hoped it meant he would leave quickly.
“And… it’s go time.” Sirius waved his wand and sent a yellow tweeting bird from it. The bird flew away, chirping a bright tune, and it was time for them to wait.
“I wish we could see it,” Harry whispered regretfully. He was sure it was going to be a brilliant amount of chaos, more than even the Weasley twins had caused in the castle.
“We’ve got loads of time for pranks,” Sirius promised. “Remind me again why you need a pensieve?”
Because a lot of things weren’t making sense and Harry wanted to see the day of the battle from Sirius’s eyes. Because Snape’s warning was making a much more lasting impression than a single smack to Harry’s face. Because if Harry couldn’t trust Albus Dumbledore, who could he trust?
“Because,” Harry said evasively. Harry didn’t want to say anything, he hardly needed to infuriate Sirius further. Not yet, not until he was sure.
Sirius accepted Harry’s answer for the moment, he probably knew Harry would answer more in depth later.
“How’s your cheek?” Sirius asked quietly. He tucked the map away, they would see when Dumbledore left, and reached over to gently touch the bruise that was shaped like Snape’s hand. “I should have killed him then,” Sirius swore.
Harry thought that it was very likely that Sirius would end up killing Snape before they retook their OWLS. It still made Harry’s stomach flutter when Sirius said things like that, like Harry was someone worth killing a man over.
“You’d end up in Azkaban.” Harry raised his hand and trapped Sirius’s hand on his cheek. It didn’t hurt anymore, not really, Harry had worse before. And it was better when Sirius was touching it.
“I’d escape.” Sirius grinned crookedly, a soft smile that Harry only saw when it was being given to him. “I’d crawl through the bars, jump in the ocean, and I’d swim to you.”
Harry was going to die… Sirius was - he was bloody romantic. He didn’t even mean to be, probably. He just opened his mouth and things fell out of it that made Harry want to - want to just curl up and scream in a pillow.
Harry really needed a friend who wasn’t Sirius, someone who he could talk about Sirius with. Hermione was friendly, but they didn’t spend much time together… Ron was seeming more and more like a lost cause… oddly enough, Harry would consider his closest friends outside of Sirius to be Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass.
It was a mad world.
“I - I think we need to be ready,” Harry stammered, unable to find anything else to say to Sirius. Harry wasn’t someone who could say things, he didn’t know how.
“I’m ready,” Sirius said. He wiggled his fingers, reminding Harry that Harry was the one holding his hand in place, and Harry winced when the blush that spread across his face made the bruise ache.
Either Sirius was going to have to stop making Harry blush like a little girl or Harry was going to have to heal the mark.
Sirius pulled the map back out when the moment passed and Harry went through the list of possible passwords while they waited. It seemed as if the giant rats in the kitchen didn’t get Dumbledore’s direct attention, neither did the fireworks when Harry heard the boom of them all exploding at once.
It wasn’t until Harry saw the dots of McGonagall, Sprout, and Flitwick rushing to the Entrance Hall that Dumbledore’s dot began to move on the map. Sirius hushed Harry, as if Harry was making any sound, and they scooted back against the wall while they waited.
The office door flew open and Harry couldn’t help but feel angry just seeing Dumbledore leave his office. Dumbledore had on a plain set of robes that swished behind him as he moved swiftly down the corridor. Harry held his breath and counted to twenty after Dumbledore had left, then he and Sirius shared a brief look and went to take their chance.
It would have been much simpler to purchase a pensieve, but Sirius needed an outlet for all his anger and theft was much less messy than murder.
“Acid Pops,” Harry said to the gargoyle. Nothing.
“What are you doing?” Sirius asked, bemused. “I can take down the charms on the door.”
“Or we give them the password?” Harry said. “It’s not hard, it’s always sweets.”
“I remember.” Sirius rolled his eyes. “So let’s try candy floss.”
“Didn’t work,” Harry said mockingly. “Cockroach clusters.”
Nothing.
“Whiskey Winners,” Sirius said.
“Blood pops.”
Nothing.
“Toffee Bertie Bean,” Harry asked, puffing up proudly when the gargoyle began to move out of the way. Harry should have tried that first, he had only assumed Dumbledore would change his password regularly.
“Idiot,” Harry breathed quietly. “C’mon, let’s hurry.”
Harry didn’t want to get caught, he didn’t want to see Dumbledore. Harry wanted to see Sirius’s memories, squash the uneasy feeling he had. That was it.
Their trip up in the office was easy, Sirius even knew which cabinet held the pensieve. Harry waited quietly under the cloak, content to let Sirius be the one to unravel the complicated wards and charms on the cabinet. It was… interesting… to see Sirius remove spells applied by the Headmaster himself.
Sirius was smart… scarily smart. Harry couldn’t imagine that there was anything that Sirius would ever find himself locked out of, or locked inside - as he proved by escaping Azkaban.
It was intimidating and impressive, Harry wondered not for the first time what he offered that kept Sirius around him. Surely he was bored… completely bored by everything that fell out of Harry’s mouth, just as Harry was by most of the things their classmates said.
Sirius was quick with the charmwork, nudging Harry with his shoulder when he finished and opened the top cabinet. The pensieve was inside the cabinet, along with a shelf made for vials that was empty.
“He moved his memories,” Sirius said, a faint whisper to not alert the already suspicious portraits of their presence.
Harry thought that made sense, Dumbledore must have noticed that Harry’s cloak had been stolen back at the beginning of the year. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but surely Dumbledore knew who had taken it.
Sirius started to reach for the stone pensieve, then Harry stopped him with a hand on his wrist. Harry’s heart started racing when he remembered what else Sirius had said was within the cabinet… just one cabinet down…
“Wait.” Harry said, warring silently with himself as he looked at the stained glass… thought about the stone that was hidden. It was Dumbledore’s duty to protect it… Dumbledore’s duty to protect the students in the castle, the Order members who had followed his command.
Harry didn’t need gold or an endless life… Harry just suddenly, fiercely, decided that Dumbledore disappointed Harry so deeply, it was only fair that he would have to disappoint his friend, Flamel, when he had to tell him the stone was gone.
Sirius didn’t say anything as Harry reached out quickly, before he could change his mind, and opened the third cabinet. The stone was still there, as beautiful and terrible as it had been when Harry had truly been eleven.
A second later and the stone was in Harry’s pocket.
Sirius took the pensieve just as quickly and they didn’t need to share any words as they left the office together. Harry’s heart was racing so quickly that the trip back to the Slytherin rooms passed in a blur - Harry thought he heard someone shouting on the ground floor, but he couldn’t be sure.
What did they do? What did they do?
Sirius had to give the password at the common room entrance, Harry’s thoughts were whirling too quickly for him to focus on any one specific thing. They robbed the Headmaster. They didn’t take something that belonged to Harry, like the cloak. They stole Dumbledore’s personal pensieve and they stole Flamel’s stone.
They were going to prison. They were going to be expelled. They would have only a few days - maybe only hours - left in Hogwarts.
Harry didn’t know if the way his stomach flipped was in terror or excitement at the idea.
“Quickly.” Sirius pulled on Harry’s arm, an impressive feat since he was lugging the heavy pensieve in his arms, and made him run toward the stairs with him. Their dorm was filled with sleeping students, but Sirius knew enough magic to ensure they wouldn’t be heard or disturbed from the safety of his bed.
“Call for Dobby.” Sirius snapped his fingers in front of Harry’s wide eyes, jerking him from his shocked daze. Sirius was serious, too serious for a child and more serious than Harry had known him to be.
“Call for Dobby now,” Sirius insisted, not needing to keep quiet. They had plenty of conversations behind their bed curtains, they had never dealt with a massive theft from their bed though. Certainly not one that Harry impulsively pulled off.
“Why?” Harry asked, his mouth too slow for everything he was thinking. Azkaban, torture, a dungeon… no, they already slept in a dungeon…
Why could Snape hit a student but Harry would be kicked from Hogwarts for theft? Wasn’t assault generally more frowned upon than theft?
“Harry!” Sirius placed the pensieve between them on the bed so that he could shake Harry. “Quickly! Call for Dobby!”
Harry didn’t question it, didn’t think he could, he did as Sirius said and called out Dobby’s name. The friendly little elf appeared immediately and the uncharacteristically angry eyes and dirty jumper made Harry think he had arrived from Morfin’s house.
“Mister Harry Potter!” Dobby crawled right in Harry’s very shocked lap and threw his arms around Harry in an air-stealing hug. “Dobby is missing you, Mister Harry Potter! Dobby is wishing very much that we are all home together and that Mister Morfin is not being a person anymore!”
Nothing was ever going to be as effective at pulling Harry from a mental spiral quite like Dobby wishing a man was dead.
“Er… soon,” Harry said, patting Dobby’s back and shaking his head at Sirius over his shoulder, unsure what Sirius had wanted Dobby for.
“Dobby, focus!” Sirius snapped bossily. “Harry, give him the stone. Now! Dobby, take it directly to Grimmauld Place, forget that you were ever here. Do you understand? It is a direct order.”
The direct order given by Sirius was done harshly enough that Harry himself complied, pulling the stone from his pocket and giving it to Dobby. Dobby only managed to hug Harry once more before he disappeared again with a crack that echoed around the room.
“What… why…” Harry tried to consider what Sirius had done. They couldn’t return the stone, it was gone. They were done for.
“You’re about to hate me, but you’re going to forget why,” Sirius said, his wand in his hand though Harry didn’t notice him pulling it. Stormy grey eyes were staring hard in Harry’s green ones and Harry didn’t get a chance to ask questions before the tip of Sirius’s wand was pressed to the side of Harry’s head.
“Obliviate.”
Harry woke in his bed, tangled up with Sirius. It wasn’t morning yet, Harry was still groggy and tired.
“Potter. Black.”
Harry groaned, wishing Professor McGonagall would… Professor McGonagall…
“Professor?” Harry opened his eyes quickly and had to squint to see the witch standing beside his bed. It was definitely McGonagall, dressed down in a simple black sleeping gown over her pajamas. It was shocking enough to make Harry horribly uneasy, the only two times he had seen Professor McGonagall dressed in her night clothes was the night that Ron’s dad had been attacked and the night that Sirius had attacked Ron.
Maybe Ron was hurt? Why would she be fetching Harry though? Ron couldn’t stand him…
“Both of you need to come with me,” McGonagall said, her lips thin and nostrils flared. It didn’t seem to help when Sirius rolled over and peered up at her with his arm over Harry’s chest and their legs tangled.
“What’s going on?” Harry asked, pushing himself up to a sitting position. Sirius did the same thing beside him, his eyes much more alert and awake.
“The Headmaster wishes to speak with you,” McGonagall said, her tone leaving no room for an argument. “Both of you.”
Harry exchanged a quick glance with Sirius, who nodded shortly. They both slid out of bed and Harry was eased some by Sirius taking his hand and squeezing it briefly. McGonagall said nothing else about why they were being summoned in the middle of the night, she only took them through the quiet and sleeping castle and up toward Dumbledore’s office.
Why were they being summoned? Had something happened? Did - did someone figure out something about Sirius not being who he said he was? Could it be about Snape? Was Harry really going to be slapped in the face by a teacher and woken in the middle of the night because of it?
By the time they reached the gargoyles protecting Dumbledore’s office, Harry had a million ideas of what they might be summoned for and no certain answer. McGonagall gave the password, but Harry thought it just before she said it —
Toffee Bertie’s Beans.
Why did Harry know that? And - and why did that thought leave his mind as soon as he thought of it?
There was an uncomfortable feeling in Harry’s mind as he ascended up the spiral staircase to the Headmaster’s office. The more Harry poked at the itchy spot, the more it evaded him.
It was disconcerting, to say the least.
Dumbledore was waiting for them, not giving Harry any more of an opportunity to prod at the spot where something was wrong. Dumbledore wasn’t smiling, he didn’t look amused. He looked powerful, cold, unhappy.
“Ah, thank you, Minerva,” Dumbledore said, the usual warmth in his tone absent. “Boys, have a seat.”
Harry did as he was told, Sirius followed with a touch more reluctance. Harry wasn’t sure how he felt about Dumbledore, Snape had said a lot of things about him, but if they were being summoned in the middle of the night then it must be a serious matter.
McGonagall stood behind Sirius, her arms crossed firmly over her chest. Dumbledore examined them both through his half-moon spectacles as he leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers under his chin.
“Do you know why you’re here?” Dumbledore asked them. He sounded tired to Harry, which made two of them.
“No,” Harry said, genuinely puzzled.
Dumbledore’s intense gaze flicked to Sirius, who met it unflinchingly.
“Mister Black?”
“No idea,” Sirius said, his tone bored and casual.
Dumbledore’s eyes narrowed and he seemed torn which boy to look at, though ultimately he continued watching Sirius as he explained why they were there.
“There was a theft in my office earlier today,” Dumbledore told them. “An extremely valuable and important object was taken, along with my personal pensieve.”
Harry’s heart skipped a beat at that declaration. It angered him some too… why should Harry be called up to see Dumbledore over a theft when Dumbledore didn’t say a word to him after Snape hit him?
And who would steal a pensieve? Harry - Harry… he needed one, didn’t he? Or did he dream that? Harry couldn’t be sure. It didn’t feel like a very tangible thought though so he decided he must have dreamt it in the time it took Sirius to say that they didn’t know anything about a theft.
“There was another theft, early this year,” Dumbledore said, looking at Harry then. “The cloak you asked me for in our meeting on the first day was stolen the very next night. Isn’t that strange?”
That was strange - a very strange coincidence. That’s all it was though, a coincidence.
“It is strange, but if you’re accusing either of us of stealing from you then you’re wrong,” Harry said, honesty oozing from him. Harry didn’t steal any valuable object of Dumbledore’s that day and the one that Sirius took had been Harry’s, he only returned it to the rightful owner.
“You know what else is strange?” Sirius said abruptly, the hardness of his voice surprising Harry. Sirius was glaring outright at Dumbledore, cold and furious. “Severus Snape is still employed here. I’d like to know why.”
Dumbledore didn’t glare, but Harry sensed his strong dislike of Sirius and it made Harry prickle with irritation.
“Professor Snape’s position is not up for debate or discussion right now,” Dumbledore told Sirius coolly. “He provides a crucial role for this school. It is regrettable what happened and it will not happen again.”
It was regrettable? Harry became hot, so hot he thought he was burning from the inside out. It was regrettable that Harry had been smacked by a grown man who had been entrusted with students? Snape was a head of house, he was in a courtroom a week ago trying to take Harry home with him! Because Dumbledore told him to! Harry had been humiliated and it was regrettable?!
“His role is so crucial that he gets to abuse students?” Sirius demanded loudly, loud enough to wake the portraits who had been asleep. “He must be pretty damn important!”
“Professor Snape’s position is not a conversation I will debate with you,” Dumbledore told Sirius. He didn’t raise his voice, but Harry knew he was angry anyway. “We are here to discuss theft.”
“Well we didn’t steal anything,” Harry said, scowling at Dumbledore for talking to Sirius like he did and accusing either of them of theft. “We were in our dorm all night.”
Dumbledore’s gaze was piercing and Harry refused to meet it square on. Harry wasn’t lying, they didn’t steal a single thing, Harry wasn’t going to invite Dumbledore to look in his mind either though.
“Very well,” Dumbledore eventually said, his tone not altogether convinced. “You may go. I will be watching carefully, boys. Theft is not tolerated at Hogwarts.”
“Not like child abuse,” Sirius snarked, rising to his feet at once. “Let me know when one of us is crucial enough to get away with abuse, will you? There’s a few people I’d like to hit.”
Dumbledore’s voice stopped them, just after McGonagall exited the office and before Harry and Sirius were out of the room.
“It seems to me that Mister Potter has already gotten away with a rather grave act.”
Harry? What did Harry do…?
Did he mean Quirrell?!
Sure, in Harry’s first first year he had been awarded a load of points for killing Quirrell, but suddenly it was a ‘grave act’?!
Sirius, never one to let anyone else have the final word, sneered over his shoulder at Dumbledore.
“And it seems to me that it’s unlikely Harry’s guardian will want his heir to return to a school where he’s abused and accused of theft,” Sirius spat.
Harry nodded in absent agreement then hurried after Sirius, down the staircase, far away from the last man they should be antagonizing.
What was it that Snape had said? Something about becoming a liability and Harry being a traditionalist?
Why did Harry feel vaguely dizzy trying to remember that conversation? It hadn’t happened all that long ago?
Sirius remained stony faced and silent for the walk back to the dungeons and Professor McGonagall touched his shoulder briefly before letting them in the common room and wishing them a good night. The common room was empty and Harry sat down on the sofa instead of risking waking their classmates yet.
“I wonder who stole his stuff?” Harry mused aloud. “His pensieve and a ‘valuable item’? You think it’s the stone?”
“I know it is.” Sirius held a finger up and smirked at Harry before dashing toward the stairs, leaving Harry to wait with a pit in his stomach. Had Sirius stolen the items from Dumbledore? It sounded like something Sirius would do… but why would he do it without Harry?
Harry wasn’t surprised when Sirius bounced back in the room with an ornate stone pensieve in his arms. Harry was annoyed, a bit hurt, then shocked when Sirius pointed a wand at his head.
“Don’t be mad,” Sirius said. “Recallio.”
The itch in Harry’s mind relieved itself at once, smoothing away and revealing a few hours worth of memories that Harry had forgotten. Not forgotten - had stolen. Sirius stole his memories then told him to not be mad.
“You prat.” Harry scowled and rubbed his forehead, feeling a dull ache from Sirius’s spells. “Why would you do that?”
“I thought he might try and question us with Veritaserum,” Sirius said shamelessly. “You can’t lie about what you don’t know.”
“You did!” Harry said, insulted. “I know how to lie, Sirius.”
“I’m sure you do, Harry,” Sirius grinned. “But you can’t lie under Veritaserum.”
“Oh and you can?”
“I wouldn’t have taken it,” Sirius said airily. He stuck his nose in the air, looking like a stuck-up prat. “I would have called for Narcissa, she would have thrown a fit. And if they insisted, I would have drawn a star on my hand then obliviated myself. It’s a handy trick, your dad and I used to do it to each other for fun.”
Sirius and Harry’s dad used to… Obliviate… each other… for fun…
“You’re mental,” Harry said, his lips twitching against his will at Sirius’s sheer stupidity. Who sat around obliviating themselves for fun? “I didn’t even know there was a counter-spell,” Harry admitted. Harry should probably be more angry, but it didn’t actually leave any holes… as far as he could tell… and he fully believed that Sirius would have done it to himself if he thought the moment called for it.
“There isn’t one, I invented it.” Sirius tossed himself on the sofa beside Harry after that declaration and Harry gawked at him.
It struck Harry sometimes how outrageously brilliant Sirius was… just… too smart for his own good. Stupid too, clearly, but scary smart.
“So what are we doing here?” Sirius asked, looking much too alert for the time. He propped his socked feet up on the table and prodded the pensieve with a toe, reminding Harry abruptly of why he wanted a pensieve to start with.
“I need your memories of the day of the battle,” Harry told him. “Start with when you got Dumbledore’s message, if you can.”
“‘If I can’…” Sirius scoffed and already had his wand raised to his own temple. “Quiet for a sec’, let me focus.”
Harry went instantly quiet as Sirius screwed his eyes shut and lost himself to his own memories. Harry took the opportunity to study Sirius, plucking out the features that were childish and cute but would become fine and handsome in a few years.
It was his jaw, Harry decided. And his cheekbones. Those weren’t things that Harry would think could make a person attractive, but Sirius did it anyway.
If Harry wasn’t hopelessly in love with him then he might hate him.
“Got it!” Sirius began slowly pulling his wand from his head, aiming it toward the pensieve, with a silver strand of a memory attached. It spread itself out to fill the bowl once it touched the stone and Harry piled the table closer to them.
“Alright, let’s see,” Harry said, doubting if he’d find anything particularly incriminating, but needing to see regardless.
Sirius said he would stay on watch for anyone interrupting them and Harry leaned forward, falling in the memory the second his hair touched the surface.
Harry landed in Grimmauld Place one year in the past - four years in the future. Sirius was sitting at the dining table, breaking Harry’s heart with how lonely and unhappy he looked. It was a far cry from the moody and mischievous Sirius that Harry had spent the last year with.
Sirius kicked his chair back and laced his fingers together behind his head so he could look up at the ceiling. Harry moved closer and smiled to himself when he could easily pick out the features he had just been admiring from Sirius’s adult face.
It seemed as if Sirius had given Harry an hour of himself brooding, but it had only been about five minutes before Kreacher made an appearance. Kreacher was cackling under his breath and seemed to be pretending like he didn’t notice Sirius was in the room.
“That’s what the nasty beast gets for defiling my poor mistress's bed chambers,” Kreacher muttered. It was a quick look, one glance, but Kreacher clearly wanted Sirius to hear him.
“I swear to Merlin!” Sirius leapt up quickly and kicked his chair away in a fit of swift anger. “If you hurt Buckbeak I will chop your bloody fingers off, Kreacher!”
Kreacher ran off as quickly as he could, just avoiding the glass that Sirius threw at him. Harry had to run after Sirius, he was too tall. Sirius cursed Kreacher out with every step he took, though Harry could tell that he was genuinely concerned for Buckbeak.
The upstairs of the house was nearly unrecognizable - Dobby really had improved the house. Harry should probably get him more socks and force him to accept a pay raise.
Sirius passed the room that they had been sharing and went to the master bedroom, the room where Buckbeak had lived when Sirius had him. Sirius opened the door and let out an immediate howl of rage at the blood splatter on the floor.
It wasn’t much, it looked like Buckbeak had a relatively minor cut on his front leg. Harry wasn’t any happier than Sirius was about it as Sirius set about cleaning the wound, wrapping it, then stroking Buckbeak’s ruffled feathers.
“Not much longer, boy,” Sirius murmured, confusing Harry. Sirius seemed tired as he laid his head against Buckbeak‘s neck and closed his eyes. “Two more weeks then we’re out of here.”
Harry frowned - had Sirius really been planning to leave? He was going to wait until summer began then take off? Leaving the Order, leaving Harry?
Harry didn’t want to believe it, didn’t have time to question it.
Sirius only sat with Buckbeak a short time longer before a patronus appeared, a beautiful and silver doe. The doe tossed her head, opened her mouth, and Harry thought he was going to explode:
“The boy requires assurance of your continued life, send it promptly.”
Snape. It was Snape. Snape’s patronus was a bloody doe.
As much of an upheaval as it had been to see his own patronus change, Harry had never been so grateful that his stag had changed to a great black dog.
It wasn’t much of a mystery why Snape’s patronus would be a doe - the graceful and lovely match to a proud stag. Harry hoped, viciously, that Snape remembered who his mother had married every time he had to cast the spell.
Sirius curled his lip in disgust at Snape’s patronus, though he cast his own in reply and it was a stag, just as Harry’s used to be.
“Tell him I’m fine and I’ll see him soon,” Sirius said calmly. There was a hint of a familiar smile shadowing his face when the patronus ran away to deliver a message Harry never received.
“Real soon,” Sirius whispered mysteriously.
Harry settled down against the wall and pondered Sirius’s plans while he waited for the message that took Sirius to the ministry. Sirius sounded as if he were planning to see Harry again… but he also sounded like he was plotting to leave.
Could it be…? Did Sirius plan for them to leave together? That seemed possible… Sirius had always been there when Harry needed him, it was an explanation Harry liked a sight more than thinking Sirius was going to run away in the start of a war.
Sirius quietly spoke to Buckbeak, nothing of note, and Harry softened on the inside when he saw how gentle Sirius was with Buckbeak, how loving. It made Harry feel rather invasive to see Sirius in a quiet moment by himself, but it was nice to see all the same.
Dumbledore’s message arrived when the setting sun had began to fill the room with a soft orange glow. It was a phoenix patronus - the match to Fawkes, Harry thought. The Phoenix opened its mouth and filled the room with an authoritative message.
“Harry has been trapped in the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry,” Dumbledore’s voice said. “The entire Order is needed, Voldemort has him.”
Voldemort has him… The entire Order…
Except Voldemort hadn’t been there and Dumbledore would have been ten times the assistance in the Ministry than Sirius had been. If Dumbledore showed up, surely most of the death eaters would have fled. Voldemort himself was scared of Dumbledore, his followers would have never stayed to fight one of the greatest wizards ever known.
It didn’t make any sense. None at all.
Sirius clearly didn’t question it, Harry saw the light in his eyes that said he was ready for a fight and the tremor of concern in his hands. Sirius looked half excited, half terrified, and Harry knew he wasn’t terrified for himself.
Harry had never apparated within a memory before and was pleased that he didn’t experience the sickening sensation that happened in real life. One moment he was in the master bedroom of Grimmauld Place with Sirius, the next they were running together through the Ministry.
“Padfoot!” The other Order members appeared in the same chamber as Sirius and Lupin appeared stricken at the sight of Sirius.
“Go home!” Lupin yelled, not slowing to give the warning. “You can’t be here!”
Even Lupin knew that it was the worst place for Sirius to be… though Harry didn’t want to think on that reaction too much.
“He’s got Harry!” Sirius shouted, putting a burst of speed in his legs and blowing past the others. He surged past Tonks and Harry was being magically pulled along, too quickly to take stock of who all had appeared.
There was Tonks, Kingsley, Arthur Weasley. There was a flash of bright purple, gone too quickly for Harry to see who it was - they were just ahead of Sirius and moved to let Sirius race through the chamber.
Sirius ran through a chamber with two death eaters dueling Luna, he ran past where Hermione was crumpled on the ground. Sirius didn’t slow for any of them, he was looking for Harry.
“HARRY!” Sirius burst in the chamber with the veil and the echoes of the broken prophecy were bouncing around while Harry dueled Bellatrix and Lucius Malfoy.
“Born to those who thrice defied him…”
Sirius paused for a beat, his eyes on Harry. Harry thought maybe he was catching his breath with the sharp inhale he made.
“HARRY!” Sirius yelled his name again and it was strange for Harry to see his own reaction to seeing Sirius - relief, joy, fear.
There was something else there too, something Harry didn’t want to try to identify and that sent Sirius flying through the room to join him.
If seeing himself looking at Sirius was strange, then seeing himself duel was twice as strange. If Harry didn’t know that it was himself ducking, defending, and attacking so gracefully then he would think he was excellent. But it was Harry and really Harry paled in comparison to Sirius.
Harry was pretty good, Sirius really lived up to his name - he was the brightest star in the room, the only person worth watching. It was lucky that Harry had been too distracted by the fight to notice Sirius at the time, he would have been useless otherwise.
When Sirius started to laugh, Harry knew what was coming. He should have asked Sirius to end the memory before he fell in the veil, he didn’t want to —
There it was again, a flash of purple. Harry turned away from Sirius and squinted across the chamber that was filled with smoky spells and loudly shouted spells. Harry couldn’t see the purple then, though he was sure he saw it move behind the statue just behind Bellatrix.
Harry’s heart was beating quickly and he turned back to the fight just in time to see Bellatrix cast a dark red spell and… and a blue spell to strike Sirius in the chest, knocking him backward directly to the veil.
Sirius’s laugh cut off and Harry screamed —
“What the fuck?!” Harry was yanked from the memory and he breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with clear and cold air so different from the heated smoke of the ministry. Sirius was beside Harry - eleven years old, confused, frowning at him.
“What? Did I do something?” Sirius asked blankly.
“No, not you.” Harry looked around and grimaced when he noticed that the middle of the night had rapidly turned to dawn. Harry was exhausted, but it was important. They kept saying - and it wasn’t…
“Can you change this?” Harry asked, waving at the pensieve. They didn’t have long and Harry didn’t want caught with the undoubtedly expensive and stolen pensieve.
“To what?” Sirius asked, his wand at the surface of the memory already.
“Just the last few minutes of the battle - no, from the moment you appeared in the Ministry,” Harry said, thinking of that first flash of purple. “Quickly.”
Sirius grumbled about ‘bossiness’, but he did as Harry asked. It only took him a moment to shift around the memory and to look at Harry expectantly. That time, Harry pulled Sirius in with him, his suspicions more important than keeping a look out. They wouldn’t be gone long, Sirius had been in the Ministry for less than ten minutes.
Harry kept ahold of Sirius’s arm when they arrived in the chamber. When Lupin called out to the other Sirius, Harry pointed his Sirius in the direction he needed to watch.
Just as there had been the first time, there was a flash of purple. Harry thought it looked like the hem of robes, deep purple robes. Harry tried to pull Sirius ahead, but they weren’t able to pass his older - younger? - counterpart.
“What?” Sirius asked. “What’s going on?”
“Nevermind, just wait,” Harry told him. They entered the chamber with the veil and Harry turned Sirius to where they could watch for that flash again and see the battle happening.
“Look for the purple again,” Harry told him. “And watch what spell Bellatrix uses.”
Harry had seen the same red spell before, multiple times. Harry had writhed and screamed beneath it, tortured and nearly begging for death. It should have knocked Sirius to his knees, had every nerve in his body screaming in agony.
It should not have sent him anywhere near the veil.
The battle heated and Sirius made a quiet sound when he heard himself shouting Harry’s name. Harry had to keep Sirius focused on the place Harry had seen the purple before because… yes!
“There!” Harry said, pointing to ensure Sirius didn’t miss it. “Right there!”
“What - who is that?” Sirius asked. He spun around to look around the room and noted names quickly. “Remus… Tonks… Kings… Arthur… there’s Moody…”
“Sirius!” Harry yanked on Sirius hard when the other Sirius began laughing and Bellatrix sent a crucio flying toward him.
The blue spell, the one that struck Sirius in the chest and knocked him back into the veil, didn’t come from Bellatrix’s wand. It came from the corner where the flashes of purple had been at.
They landed back in the Slytherin common room a moment later and Harry and Sirius had identically wide eyes.
“What the fuck?!” Sirius asked. “Who did that? Why - I didn’t even notice!”
“Siri, where were you going?” Harry asked, feeling in his stomach that it was important. It couldn’t be a coincidence… The timing was too perfect. Or imperfect. It was very close timing.
“Going? I was helping you,” Sirius said. He started shivering and Harry reached out to rub his arms with his hands absently, it was a lot to take in.
“Before that,” Harry said impatiently. They were going to be interrupted soon, Harry needed to understand the entire picture Sirius had revealed.
“You were talking to Buckbeak, you said that soon you’d be gone,” Harry reminded him. “Were you planning to leave?”
“Oh. That.” Sirius sighed and shifted so he was closer to Harry, making it easier for Harry to try and return the warmth to his freezing and goosebump covered arms.
“I’m not proud of it,” Sirius warned him, indeed blushing some. “I thought… you and I could leave, together. Everything was getting more serious and I thought maybe - maybe we should leave. I kept thinking about the graveyard and —”
“No, sh.” Harry shushed Sirius, not needing him to get either of them distracted. Harry squeezed Sirius’s arms, staring past him with unfocused eyes to the green windows of the common room.
There was a lot going through Harry’s mind, but one word stood out in the mix of memories and questions:
Liability.
“You were going to leave and I wouldn't have thought twice before going with you,” Harry said, talking aloud to make sense of his thoughts. “Then the battle happened… Dumbledore sent you there. And you were hit by a blue spell —”
“Knockback Jinx,” Sirius supplied helpfully. Even in the middle of an earth shattering revelation, Harry could still appreciate Sirius’s brilliance.
“A knockback jinx sent by someone in purple robes hiding in the shadows.” Harry’s own blood had turned to ice and it couldn’t be true… it couldn’t be…
“Friendly fire,” Sirius whispered. Harry turned until their eyes met and Sirius repeated himself, looking just as shook to his core as Harry was.
“That’s what they call it, the Royal Forces.” Sirius swallowed and Harry could see his Adam’s apple bobbing, straining against his throat while Sirius hardly managed to breathe.
“Friendly fire: it means being attacked by your own side in a fight.”