Chapter 5
„Have you thought about an alternative memory?”
They knew that her father was not addressing everyone and Hermione was slightly ashamed that she was one of the people he was talking to.
Vince, Greg, Draco and Daphne were now, in late autumn, able to produce a slightly bigger wisp of smoke. He was not talking to them.
Pansy and Theo were able to conjure a tiny wisp of smoke, like the one that had come from Vince’s wand in their first Patronus lesson. He was not necessarily talking to them either, although he had suggested for them to try a different memory, too, to possibly make it easier.
Hermione and Blaise had not conjured anything yet. He was definitely talking to them.
They nodded gloomily.
“A little more enthusiasm, please,” he said with a smirk.
Hermione had used her first time coming to Hogwarts memory for their first few lessons, but the more she thought about it, the better she understood why that memory didn’t work. Yes, she had been happy to understand why she was the way she was; she had been awed the first time she had entered the Great Hall. But the memory was marred by the fact that she hadn’t been exactly happy during her first few months at school, that back then she hadn’t yet been able to make the friends she had hoped for ever since McGonagall had told her about Hogwarts and her being a witch. In fact, she had been just as lonely as she had always been until Christmas.
Then she had tried the memory of Lucius and Narcissa telling her that she would never have to go back to her parents and while this undoubtedly had made her life so much happier, it was still connected to the memory of the place she had gotten away from, the reason she had been taken in by her friend’s parents in the first place.
Frustrated, she had asked Vincent what his memory was, as he still got the best results out of everyone, and had been surprised that it wasn’t anything most people would call significant, but in fact something quite simple.
“Remember the day we took the Parkinsons’ Granians to ride out a few days before school started again?” He had asked and of course she had. It had been a lovely day. Her first time riding any equine creature and they had taken it slowly for her sake and no flying because they knew she didn’t like it. At least not until they had reached a meadow where the Granians had grazed while some of them, the ones who had brought their brooms, had played the Seeker’s Game and the others had sat together watching and talking, until they had been joined by the flyers to eat the treats the house elves had packed for them. “I know it’s nothing big,” Vince had said with a shy smile. “But I was really happy that day. We were all together and everyone had fun.”
Maybe her way of thinking was too complicated. Vincent had chosen such a simple memory, unstained by anything negative. It had just been a perfect summer’s day he had spent with his friends.
“Alright,” her father’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Then try again. Blaise.”
“Expecto Patronum!” And there it was, the silvery mist. Not much, but it was there. If Hermione didn’t make it now, she would be the only one who couldn’t do it. A situation she was completely unfamiliar with.
But she hadn’t been able to really decide on a memory. Somehow her brain, the one thing she had always been able to rely on, failed her, because a little voice in her head still told her it had to be something big.
“Very good!” Her father praised her friend. “Hermione, your turn.”
She raised her wand, frantically trying to think of something. And then she had it, just like that. She had thought about it after the Boggart lesson while talking to Lupin, and she hadn’t thought of using it for a Patronus. How stupid of her! Her father, her real father, had taken her to see the Mooncalves dance. She remembered the clearing lit by moonlight, the creatures moving around each other in an oddly beautiful way. Her head on her father’s shoulder and his arm around her. “Expecto Patronum!” Silvery smoke shot from her wand, but instead of vanishing, like for all the others, it became more solid, took form and then a Mooncalf galloped through the room, made a few rounds and only then vanished.
The silence that followed was interrupted by Draco. “You know, Granger, that’s not fair. I thought I was for once better than you at something that’s not potions.” There was, however, a small smile on his lips.
The next moment she squealed in surprise when Vince enveloped her in a bearhug, even lifting her off the ground for a few seconds. “I knew you could do it!”
She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You helped me,” she whispered into his ear just before he put her down again. He beamed at her and she couldn’t even feel bad for having been the first one to conjure a corporeal Patronus, even though he had been the first to conjure anything at all, because he looked so genuinely happy for her.
When he stepped aside, she looked at the mirror on the mantlepiece, from where her father’s reflection watched them with a small and somewhat thoughtful smile. “Very impressive, Hermione.” And then, after a moment. “I’m proud of you.”
If possible, her smile grew even wider.
Then, Tom Riddle looked around. “Why is everyone else not practising?”
During dinner that day, Dumbledore stood up, asking for everyone’s attention. He had that stupid, beatific smile on his face and Hermione wished that the Weasley twins would play an epic prank on him. She hadn’t spent much of the generous monthly allowance she received from Lucius and Narcissa, except for Christmas and birthday gifts for everyone. Maybe they were taking commissions. She wondered what their price was.
“I am happy to announce that this Saturday will be the first Hogsmeade trip of the year!”
Excited chatter, some of the students cheered. They had worried that the Hogsmeade trips were cancelled because of the Dementors.
“If you have handed in your permission sheet with your Head of House at the beginning of the year, you will be allowed to go to Hogsmeade after lunch. Be back before sundown. The Dementors will be patrolling the village after sundown.”
Hermione was almost tempted to try her new skill on an actual Dementor, but that would be stupid and reckless. Also, the teachers supervising the Hogsmeade trip would make sure everyone would leave in time.
Still, it was definitely exciting to see something else than the castle or the castle grounds for once.
On Saturday, they were among the first few to leave the Great Hall after a quick lunch to go down to the village.
When they walked past the Dementors hovering close to the entrance to the castle grounds, Hermione’s hand instinctively went to her wand in the halter she carried around her belt, but they didn’t approach.
“Honestly,” Blaise complained when they were a good way away. “There has been no trace of Sirius Black since he broke out. He could be out of the country for all we know. How long are those bloody things going to be here?”
That was a very good question. And how long would they be patient enough not to try to attack someone? As far as Hermione knew, they only obeyed the Ministry because in Azkaban they had the prisoners to feed from. A mutually beneficial arrangement, so to speak. They didn’t have anyone here.
But no matter now. When the village came into view, the Dementors were forgotten and they were all looking forward to having some fun. Which they did. They had a Butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks and then roamed the various shops.
After spending months at Hogwarts, this was a welcome change to the routine and Hermione even had it in her to feel a little sorry for Potter, who had not been allowed to go due to the faint possibility that Sirius Black would appear in Hogsmeade to, in full sight of students and teachers, snatch him away.
When they came out of Honeydukes and Hermione was just about to share her idea of paying the Weasley twins to play a proper prank on Dumbledore, a large, shaggy black dog came walking towards them and came to a halt in front of Draco.
He looked a bit uncertain, but since the animal appeared friendly, he reached out to pet him. “Hello there, boy, what are you doing here? Where’s your owner?”
Hermione thought that he didn’t look like he had an owner, he looked too dirty, the black fur ungroomed. Either he had no owner or he had been lost for quite a while.
“Hey!”
Pansy laughed from behind Hermione when the dog grabbed Draco’s back from Honeydukes and ran towards the edge of the village, looking back with a wagging tail.
Draco gave a heavy sigh and followed. Grinning, so did Hermione.
“We’ll wait for you in the Broomsticks!” Daphne called after them.
Apparently, the others had been smarter, because when they were somewhat close to the dog, it started running again.
“We shouldn’t leave the village!” Hermione called after Draco.
“I’m not letting him have that. Besides, there’s a bunch of chocolate in there. That’s bad for dogs, isn’t it?”
It was. And that was why Hermione kept running, against her better judgement.
When the dog vanished in a cave, they looked at each other, then Draco shrugged and followed. Sighing heavily, Hermione did the same, while Noodles, who seemed to have noticed that they had left the village, slithered out of her bag and up to his usual place around her shoulders.
“Are you planning to protect me from feral dogs?”
“That’s not a dog.”
“What?” Alarmed, she looked at her familiar, but before he could elaborate on that statement, they had reached the end of the cave, where the dog stood next to the dropped bag.
The next moment, the dog turned into a man. A man who was more than familiar thanks to the many articles in the Daily Prophet and the mugshots that were to be found basically everywhere else.
Sirius Black.
He had a beard, long, unkempt hair and looked thin and ragged. There was a haunted look in his eyes.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” He lifted his hands as if to show that he had neither a weapon nor a wand. His voice was rough, as if he didn’t use it much. “Not that I could with … that.” He looked at Noodles, who had taken a threatening stance. Black’s eyes fell on Draco. “You’re Narcissa’s boy, aren’t you?”
He nodded. “I am. My name is Draco. My parents were looking for you. Still are, I think.”
“They are?” There was regret in his eyes. “I can’t go. I need to be close to Harry.”
“It’s dangerous,” Hermine chimed in, putting a gentle hand on Noodles to assure him it was fine. “There are Dementors at Hogwarts and they patrol the village, too. Narcissa and Lucius can keep you safe. Narcissa said you would never have done what they accused you of. They believe you.” Draco nodded in agreement.
Black’s face softened, but then he shook his head. “The Dementors don’t sense me when I’m in my Animagus form. That’s how I got out.”
That explained so much!
He looked at the back on the ground. “Do you mind, if I take some?”
“No, you can keep it all,” Draco replied immediately and they all sat down on rocks and the two of them watched the man eat far too quickly. He would probably be sick, Hermione mused.
“Sorry, I haven’t had much lately.”
“It’s ok.” Then she had an idea. “We can send you food! There’s a house elf at Hogwarts who’s related to one of ours. If we asked her to bring you food every day, she wouldn’t tell anyone. Don’t you think?” She looked at Draco, who immediately nodded.
“Yes, you’re brilliant! Tipsy would definitely keep it to herself.”
Black hesitated, but hunger won over, so he nodded. “That would be great. Thank you.” He looked at Hermione “One of ours? Are you Draco’s sister?”
She smiled and shook her head. “No, my name is Hermione Granger. But Lucius and Narcissa claimed Magical Guardianship over me, so I live with them.”
“I see,” he said quietly. Then, like in an afterthought. “James’ parents did that for me, too. When I was a bit older than you.” For a moment, he looked very far away, then he looked at Noodles again. “You have an interesting taste in pets, Miss Granger. Is that a Shinohebi?”
She smirked at him. “He is. And I suppose you won’t run to Dumbledore and tell on me.”
He gave a barking laugh at that. “No, I’m not. I heard you talk to him.”
“That is also something I would prefer no one to know.”
“You’re lucky then that I have no one to snitch to.” He gave her a conspiratorial grin and she couldn’t help but return it.
“So you’re somehow related to the Gaunt family, I suppose. I don’t remember a family named Granger, let alone one with Gaunt blood.”
“I’m Muggle-born,” she explained without missing a beat and he looked surprised. “Lucius thinks I may have a Squib from the Gaunt family in my ancestry.” She was not going to tell him everything now. Better safe than sorry.
He nodded. “I guess he may be right.” His face darkened. “He may have been right in many things. He and Narcissa. James and Lily believed it towards the end. I didn’t, stubborn bastard that I am. I believed in the Order, in Dumbledore.”
“You don’t anymore?” Draco asked, just to be sure.
“Hell, no. Narcissa was trying to tell me many times. She all but begged me to listen to Tom Riddle’s side of the story. I’m such an idiot. I bloody knew that bloody Peter was working closely with Dumbledore and I still stood by and allowed him to become their Secret Keeper. Didn’t even tell them because I knew they wouldn’t want him then.”
“Peter Pettigrew was their Secret Keeper?” Draco stared at his … Hermione thought for a moment. First cousin once removed? Yes, that had to be it.
“Yes. They thought I would be the obvious choice and Peter the safer option. Maybe they also didn’t like it that I still believed in Dumbledore. I don’t know.” He sounded resigned.
“So it was Pettigrew who betrayed them? Was he also the one who …?”
“Killed them?” Sirius finished Hermione’s sentence in a heavy voice. “I don’t know. When I came, they were already dead. And then Dumbledore was there, told me he’d make sure Harry would be safe, that I should get Pettigrew. I was so bloody mad, I didn’t even see how full of shit he was in that moment. How suspicious it was that he was suddenly there. I wasn’t thinking then. I had a lot of time for that afterwards.”
“He set you up,” Hermione whispered.
“Yes. I found Peter. He was in an area full of Muggles, but I didn’t care. I didn’t know that he’d bloody kill them all.”
There was a heavy silence. “They found a finger of him. Nothing else,” Hermione finally said. “At least that’s what I read.”
“And that’s true. He cut off his own finger with a spell before he transformed into his Animagus form.”
“He was an Animagus, too?” Draco exclaimed and Sirius nodded.
“Yes, a rat.”
“How fitting.”
Black shot Hermione an appreciative smile. “Yeah. He got away and I got arrested and thrown into Azkaban without a trial.”
“Without a trial?” Hermione was outraged.
“Yes, they had a lot to do after the war.”
Draco cleared his throat. “But … while I understand how you escaped, why did you do it? After all this time, I mean? You could have done it much sooner, couldn’t you?”
He nodded grimly. “Sure. But I saw no point.”
“And after 12 years, you suddenly had an epiphany and the point occurred to you?”
Hermione kicked her friend’s shin. He was right, she had wondered the same thing. But it could have been worded a little more sensitively.
“Ow. Don’t tell me you didn’t think the same.”
Another barking laugh came from the fugitive. “It’s alright, he’s right, isn’t he?” He became serious once more. “Fudge, the Minister, came to Azkaban, to gape at the inmates, I guess. I asked him for the copy of the Daily Prophet he carried around. He gave to me and I saw the article about the Weasleys. Don’t know, if you’ve seen it. They won some money and went on a trip to Egypt.” Hermione hadn’t known. This had probably been in paper while they had been on Sri Lanka. Lucius had looked through the Prophet editions they had missed after their return, but he probably hadn’t considered this particular information important enough to tell them. She couldn’t blame him. “There was a rat on one of the boys’ shoulder. With one missing toe. I’d recognise Peter everywhere. It was him. That boy was about Harry’s and your age. Peter is at Hogwarts.”
They both stared at him.
“I could eat him. If he’s a rat,” Noodles suggested helpfully.
Hermione shook her head. “You can’t. He may be the only one who can who can prove Mr Black’s innocence. Also, he will be in the Gryffindor dorm. We have no access.” He looked disappointed. “It was nice of you to offer,” she added in a comforting tone of voice.
Both Black and Draco were looking at her. “Nothing. He just offered to eat him, but we’ll need him alive to prove your innocence, Mr Black.”
He gave her a wry smile. “Call me Sirius. And I’d rather have him dead and Harry not at risk.”
“It would still be preferable, though. You’re P … Harry’s godfather, aren’t you? I’m sure he would like to meet you. When he finds out that you didn’t cause the death of his parents.” And also, maybe, just maybe, Pettigrew would be able to provide testimony against Dumbledore, clear her father’s name. He would be able to come home.
“Could you tell him everything? Harry, I mean.”
They both looked at each other uncomfortably. It was Draco who spoke. “We’re not exactly friends. He wouldn’t believe us. And I think Dumbledore regularly sees him. At least, if what we heard last year is anything to go by.”
They told him about how they had overheard the conversation between Potter and Weasley. Sirius obviously didn’t like it.
Hermione sighed. They weren’t going to find a solution here and now. “We need to go back. We need to be back at school before sundown. We’ll tell Tipsy to bring you food. You’re staying here in the cave, aren’t you?”
Sirius nodded. “Yeah. Thank you.” He hesitated. “Don’t tell anyone, please. Not even your parents,” he added with a glance at Draco and Hermione saw a small frown on his friend’s forehead. He obviously didn’t like keeping that kind of information from them. Neither did she. “Please, I need to stay here. Close to Harry.”
Oh well, her father had told her to stay out of the Sirius Black business. They were just following orders. “Ok.”
“Thank you. I’ll walk you back to the village.” He turned back into the dog and together, they returned to Hogsmeade.
~tbc~