Subpoena

It was Sunday, and Harry paced the sitting room of the flat he shared with Ginny.

Though the wizard spent many evenings in a teacher’s dorm at Hogwarts, as he was not a professor, he did not need to reside at the castle full time.

They had chosen the apartment together soon after Ginny graduated from Hogwarts. It was small with a single bedroom, bathroom, kitchenette, and sitting room. Despite the lack of space, the couple loved it there. They rarely left each other's arms at any rate.

Apart from when Harry had an episode of anxiety, as was the case now. It was then he could be found pacing and straightening things that were already in their proper place. The chosen one was a nervous cleaner-a habit Ginny suspected he had picked up at Private Drive- and their home never looked better than when Harry felt terrible.

It was Hermione’s appo-note (a way of communication she had invented herself- Why wait for an owl when people can disapparate across countries in seconds?) that left his stomach in knots. More correctly, it’s what he assumed he would have to face today that made his anxiety spike. The boy could face the physical manifestation of evil head on, but Merlin knew how he was supposed to face the godfather he had never met.

It was Harry who had pushed Malfoy into taking Sirius on as a client. Harry, who was paying for the wizards release and legal fees. Harry, who felt obligated to do so because of the Ministry’s mistake. On a late night six months after the war, Harry had recounted the events of Malfoy Manor to Lupin. He then learned the man who guarded their cell, Peter Pettigrew, was supposed to have died nineteen years earlier. It was the only time Harry had seen Remus truly angry. Lupin started swearing and shouting incoherently; it was only after a calming drought and a half-pint of mead Remus gave Harry the history of Sirius Black- that there must be more to the story of the man who allegedly betrayed Lily and James if Pettigrew had been alive all this time.

It was Remus and Teddy he was waiting on now; once the two arrived they could floo to Hermione’s home for the talk Harry had been dreading. He heard a faint pop from the bedroom and smiled; Ginny had come home from quidditch training. He walked to meet her, and was greeted with a blur of red hair and a kiss on the mouth. He took the witch's face between his hands and studied her. She smelled like sunshine and flowers. She kissed him again. Merlin, she tasted like sunshine and flowers.

A dry cough behind them made the two break apart. Remus- tired looking but no worse for wear- smiling faintly at the couple as he held a very sleepy turquoise haired toddler in his arms.

“Remus! Teddy!” Ginny beamed at the duo, taking Harry’s hand, “I didn’t know you’d be stopping by today!”

“”Llo Gin,” the graying man said, the toddler lifting his head from his father's shoulder to adjust and lay back down.

“Just collecting Harry and passing through. Your fire is more direct than ours, less stops for this one.”

“Having a rough day?” Harry said, reaching for his godson.

“Molars are coming in late. We’ve had a lot of very big feelings today,” Remus replied, grunting as he handed the child to Harry. Teddy whined in response, this time hiding his face in the nape of the younger wizards neck. “I don’t know how the muggles manage.”

“Where are you passing through to? I thought we had supper plans, Harry?” The red headed witch asked with feigned innocence, placing her hands on her hips. Harry hid a grimace behind the toddlers head and looked over at her.

“Er- Mione invited us round for tea-“ he started

“Has she? Shut up in her house for weeks now-snapping at me when I owl to make sure she’s alright- and she’s invited two old men and the world’s grumpiest three year old for an afternoon?”

“I’m only a year older than you Gin-“

“And yet you’ve died more times than most men a hundred years your senior,” she cut him off, earning a snort from Lupin that he tried to pass off as a cough, “Let me change and I’ll join you.”

She turned on her heel, long hair flicking like a flame, and closed their bedroom door behind her. Harry sighed, facing Lupin.

“Is that how she wins most arguments?” the professor chuckled.

“Most of the time she doesn’t even need that line because she has a thousand other excellent points. I just wasn’t wanting to tell her until later..” Harry stopped halfway through his thought, noticing Remus’ raised eyebrow.

Shit

“I assume this isn’t just a sunny Sunday call on a good friend then?”

“Er-“

“What have you neglected to mention, Harry?” Lupin asked calmly

The toddler snored softly against Harry’s shoulder. Harry could feel a puddle of drool forming in the pocket of his collarbone. He shifted his weight and looked down before answering.

“The Wizengamot accepted the case, Remus. We’re going to prepare for the trial.”

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“You don’t think,” the sandy grey haired man whispered, eyes narrowed at his best friend’s son, “that was information worth passing along before now?”

It was moments like this Harry was reminded of his mentor’s condition. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, his instinct telling him to submit, run, hide from the wolf before him. Instead, Harry stood his ground.

“I didn’t want to stress you out, I’ve been a wreck all week and I’ve never even met the man. I figured it’d be even more difficult for you to know-“

“-That I was about to see someone who's been surrounded by dementors for the last twenty years? And have him around my child-my son- when we don’t know the effects that kind of treatment has on a person? Cripes Harry, Teddy’s the only thing I have left in this world, I can’t just expose him to someone unstable and dangerous!”

“Hermione specifically said to bring Teddy. She’s been around Black enough to know whether or not it’d be safe.” Harry said, voice rising a full octave by the end of his sentence.

Lupin pressed two fingers to each temple, rubbing his head. It was something he had started doing soon after he met James, and something he suspected he’d still be doing long after Teddy was grown. Ginny walked up to the men, freshly changed and frowning at the tension she felt.

“Right, shall we be off then?” She said, grabbing the jar of floo they kept on the mantle. Remus stepped forward, taking his sleeping son from Harry and grabbing a handful of powder. Stepping into the fireplace and glaring at Harry Remus held his clenched first forward.

“Forehart Place!”

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Hermione walked into her bedroom, or what had been her bedroom before it had been commandeered by a mentally unstable animagus. She sighed and busied herself with changing out the wizard’s bandages and cleaning him. She had yet to wake him from the sleep spell she had forcibly cast after the incident on Thursday night. They needed him to heal, dammit, and his insistence on ripping himself apart was not making the task any easier. Draco had said it would be better to wake Sirius a while before their guests arrived so he would have time to adjust, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. Not yet.

She finished applying healing salve to Sirius’ wounds and let her eyes wander to his face. He had been able to gain some weight since his arrival, and a few doses of blood replenishing potion over the past two days had the color returning to his cheeks. If it weren’t for the ever present circles under his eyes, Sirius would have been quite handsome when you considered what he’d been through. Hermione moved to brush some of the knotted hair from the wizard’s cheek when she noticed something crawling in the mane.

Fleas, she realized, in my bed. Excellent.

No longer caring to wait for permission, she cut off the matted chunks of hair with a few waves of her wand. By the end it was quite short, and not at all professionally done, but she was pleased nonetheless.

Now all I have to do is burn this mattress and purchase a new one.

Looking at the clock nestled on her bookcase, Hermione sighed. She had procrastinated for about as long as she could. Waving her wand over Sirius’ face she muttered, “Rennervate,” and took a step back.

Sirius gasped for air, eyes fluttering open. He made a move to sit up, but upon realizing he had a full body-binding curse on him, glared at his caregiver.

“I’m going to give you a drink, and after that we’ll have to talk for a moment before I let you loose,” she said carefully.

“Good morning to you too,” the wizard said horsley, accepting the water being poured into his mouth. “How long have I been out?”

“Nearly three days. You tried to wake up a few times so I had to curse you to keep you under.”

Black rolled his eyes. “Naturally.”

Hermione bit her lip before continuing, unsure of where to start.

“Mister Black-“

“Sirius”

“Sirius. You can’t just go and undo all of the progress we’ve been making on your health like that. Do you understand-“

“I don’t want to talk about it, Hermione.” He said sharply.

The witch stopped. It was the first time he had addressed her using her first name. Her stomach flipped- How do you have this conversation with someone you hardly know? She swallowed and took a deep breath before continuing.

“We have to discuss it, Sirius. Not talking about it is the reason it happened in the first place, is it not?”

Black didn’t respond, choosing instead to fixate his glance on the bookshelf behind Hermione.

“I know someone, a really brilliant witch, she helped us all after the war. Harry use to have these awful nightmares-“

“I don’t want to talk about my feelings to some shrink, Granger.”

Back to Granger? Hermione’s temper spiked, and she fought to keep it under the surface.

“It’s not talking, Black. She uses legilimency to move your memories to the correct part of your brain so you can process what happened to you in a healthy way.” Sirius moved his eyes from the shelf to Hermione’s. “It’s a pretty new theory of magic, but it’s helped everyone who has agreed to it. Myself included.”

Sirius' eyes drifted to the witch's left forearm, an uncomfortable tingle shooting up his body when he laid eyes on the angry scar.

“Did it have something to do with that?”

Hermione looked down at her arm, the memory of how she acquired it faintly tugging on her mind. She looked back at the animagus, grey eyes meeting brown. He winced, as though he regretted the question, but did not back down from it.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me what happened on Thursday night.”

The wizard groaned, “Will you let me sit up first? You can keep my legs bonded.”

She agreed and after a wordless wave of her wand helped Sirius into an upright position. She gave him another long drink of water before he answered.

“When I was in Azkaban,” he faltered for a moment, not entirely sure how to explain, “I tried everything I could to fight what was happening. I didn’t want to end up…” he trailed off, the memory of the prison hanging over their heads.

“I mean, I knew I didn’t do it, so it kept my head present for the most part, but that doesn’t mean it was a fucking picnic.”

He shuddered before continuing.

“The thing I saw the most was Lily in front of the crib,” he said in a near whisper, “knowing that I failed James. If he died, she was supposed to make it. For Harry. That was our deal,” his voice cracked on the last word, tears brimming and body aching.

“You’d think you’d become desensitized after seeing it so often, but it was like the first night, every time.”

Sirius felt pressure on his hand, and looked down to see the witch holding it. This was the first time in almost twenty years he had been held by another person. He stared at their overlapped palms, almost confused by the warmth.

“Did you...in prison? Did that happen?” Hermione asked quietly, peering into the hardened face of the man before her.

Sirius nodded.

“The pain kept me grounded, in a way. Made me remember that my body was mine, that my mind was mine. So when I needed a break,” he chose the word oddly, nearly laughing at the irony, “I’d transform. The dementors didn’t notice a dog as much as they noticed a human.”

“So why didn’t you leave?”

The wizard stared at her blankly.

“What?”

“If you knew you were innocent and the dementors didn’t notice a dog, why didn’t you just transform and walk out? There aren’t gates, the cells can hardly be considered cells. You could have just left.” She said, as if it were the most obvious choice of action.

The man blinked several times, jaw slacked.

“I didn’t betray James or Lily, but it was my fault they were dead,” Sirius started slowly. “I didn’t blow up Peter, but it was my fault so many muggles were killed. I didn’t deserve to...I couldn’t just walk out.” He finished, looking back down at their intertwined hands.

Sirius felt a warmth spread through his body, starting in his chest and moving outwards. It was as if the shackles around his lungs had been unlocked, he could breathe again. He inhaled deeply, testing the newfound freedom. It was with the sudden sound of someone clearing their throat they were brought back into themselves. Draco’s trim frame stood in the doorway of Hermione’s room, face blank, eyes locked on the overlapped hands of his client and co-council.

“It’s just about time, Granger.”

She stood up quickly and undid the rest of the body-binding spell she had placed on Sirius.

“Come on then,” she said hastily, “You’ve got a godson to re-meet.”

Draco stepped out into the hallway, footsteps quickly receding. The remaining two turned towards the door, but Hermione paused before exiting the room, Sirius nearly running into her back.

“Sirius?” She said softly, turning to face him and tilting her head to meet his gaze, “Thank you for telling me.”

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