Subpoena

Harry stepped unceremoniously onto the navy carpet of his best friend’s sitting room. He had laughed when she picked such a fogey color, but there was no hint of cheerfulness to welcome the group today. “Scourgify,” Harry muttered, attempting to rid the floor of tracked floo powder. Ginny walked behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and standing on tip-toe to kiss the back of his neck.

 “Don’t think you’re in the clear Potter,” she whispered.

Harry smiled softly, the expression dropping when he caught the eye of his former professor. A tall blond wizard walked towards the group through the doorway that led to the kitchen.

“Malfoy,” Ginny said curtly, “I can’t say I was expecting you here.”

“Nor I you,” Draco responded, returning the coolness of her tone.  “I thought we were planning on keeping this low key, Potter.”

Harry felt his face flush. He heard Lupin scoff from his seat in the corner, but chose to ignore it.

“It’s not necessarily a secret-“ the raven haired man began

“What isn’t necessarily a secret?” Ginny interrupted hotly, “The fact that our best friend has a live in arrangement with her boss? Or the fact that you neglected to mention he’d be here?” she finished, jerking her head back to her partner. 

Draco raised his hands in front of him passively.  

“Hermione’s more my boss than I am hers-“

“That doesn’t mean we’re glad to see you.” The girl retorted.

Lupin sighed, standing once more and supporting the weight of his toddler by leaning back slightly.

“Ginny,” he said softly, as not to disturb his son, “Do you think you could postpone murdering Mister Malfoy until the end of our meeting?” 

“Not until someone tells me what’s going on.”

“I do hope I can help with that,” Hermione cut in, stepping through the same doorway as the wizard before her. She smiled apologetically at her friend “Hello Ginny.”

Ginny ignored her.

With five adults and a sleeping toddler, the sitting room of Forehart Place had become suddenly cramped. Turning to face Harry and Lupin, Hermione said “I’ve got him set upstairs, if you’re willing to join me.”

“Who is upstairs?” Ginny questioned. Lupin voiced his concern to the other witch.

“Hermione, I’m not- I’ve got Teddy, and-“

“I’ve magicked a playroom for him. It’s not large, but we have an elf who can watch the boy until you’re confident he’ll be fine,” Draco drawled, clearly ready to move things along. Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

“It’s a small bed connected to my study. We’ve hired,” she stressed the word, “a house elf to help around here for a bit. The room has wards so only appointed guardians can enter it while Teddy’s inside. If you’re alright with it,” she added quickly 

“Thank you, Hermione,” said Remus.

“Right. If we could get this started,” Malfoy said, “I hate to be the host in a house that’s not my own, but if you’d all follow me,” he said, turning on his heel and walking out of the room. 

Harry caught the hand of a now fuming Ginny and followed behind the rest of the group down a narrow hall. As they approached what he knew to be Hermione’s bedroom door, the tension in the air became palpable. No one was breathing any more than they had to; even Teddy’s snores had quieted. Hermione raised her wand, shooting golden sparks at the ceiling. A hole appeared above them and from it, an iron staircase spiraled down until it landed softly at their feet. 

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Hermione was very particular in her requirements when searching for a residence upon graduating Hogwarts.

She did not want a flat (too many neighbors) , she did not want a townhome (not enough space for bookshelves) and she absolutely did not want anything as big as Malfoy Manor. 

She had chosen instead what appeared-by all visual clues- to be a single story cottage with one previous owner: a witch by the name of Birdie Forehart, who had passed just before her 142nd birthday. Hermione had loved the mulberry trees in the backyard, been charmed by the peculiarly shaped kitchen, and enjoyed that she did not have the room to host visitors for an extended amount of time.

Or at least, it had appeared to be so.

The previously invisible upper level of Hermione’s home was the same square footage as the first floor beneath it. However, there were no walls to divide it into separate rooms (apart from a single door leading to the nursery Draco had conjured earlier that day). It was the secret second story with a massive open floor plan-the walls lined with built-in bookshelves-that made Hermione purchase this home on the spot.

The witch had clearly marked her territory. There were books jammed into every shelf of the room, several desks appearing to host separate long term studies and projects, and mismatched red and blue armchairs to lounge about in. The most unique part of the room was, perhaps, the supposed “skylights” built into the floor; placed so one could see what was happening into the room below. 

“Tooley,” Hermione called, the elf appearing at her side almost before she finished saying his name.

The witch gestured to Remus.

“This is Remus and his son Teddy. Would you be alright with looking after Teddy for a bit?”

Tooley bunched his tiny fists into a ball near his chest, bat-like ears fluttering with delight 

“It has been too longs since Tooley hads a babe to look after!” 

Lupin smiled kindly at the elf, “Thank you Tooley.” 

The pair set off towards the nursery- a child-sized door in the far corner of the room that enlarged to accommodate the werewolf’s size. A moment later, Remus was back in the study with the rest of the ensemble.

“Still out like a light. Thanks for putting a bed in there,” Lupin said, looking between Hermione and Malfoy.

“Right then. Can I meet our mystery visitor now?” Ginny said indignantly, brushing her hair behind her ear and crossing her arms.

As if in response, a great black dog appeared from his hiding spot under a desk. In the blink of an eye, a sollum, lanky man stood where the dog had been. There was an audible intake of breath around the room. Sirius approached the group slowly, eyes never leaving his godson.

“Harry,” he said softly, hesitantly putting a hand on the younger wizard’s shoulder, “It’s nice to see you again.”

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Tea had been made, biscuits had been served, and everyone had been seated at a sturdy wooden table Draco conjured. He and Hermione sat next to one another, Sirius on Hermione’s left; on the opposite side of the table sat Ginny, Harry, and Remus respectively. Harry, Draco, and Hermione took turns catching the red headed witch up with what they had been working on in secret for the past several months. After the explanation, Ginny put a hand on Harry’s arm and resigned to silence. 

“So the next topic to address is strategy,” Draco said, thumbing through stacks of notes he and Hermione had organized earlier that day. “We have an idea that would undoubtedly work so long as it is permitted. If it isn’t...that’ll be another roadblock.”

“We want the case to be as open and shut as possible. The less debating we have to do, the better,” Hermione continued her co-counselors thought. “The issue is, it’s been an extremely long time, meaning-“

“Meaning all of your key witnesses are dead,” Lupin finished, speaking for the first time since putting his son to bed. He refused to look up from the table to meet any of the five pairs of eyes staring at him.

“So your evidence is circumstantial at best.” Sirius said, a fresh wave of dread washing over him, “and not enough to overturn my sentence.”

“That would be the case,” Hermione said gently, “but we’re working to allow some game changers. Namely, the use of a pensive. And Veritaserum.”

Everyone but Draco gaped at her in surprise.

“But, Hermione,” Lupin started, “memories can be modified, making the pensive faulty at best. And vials-“

“Can be switched,” Draco finished with a wave of his hand, “which is why it’s never been permitted before.”

“We propose that the potion be brewed while the Wizengamot is in session,” Hermione said, ignoring several attempts to interrupt her, “and use the pensieve memories of Draco, Ron, Harry, and myself during its creation while we make our argument.”

“That potion takes twenty-eight days,” Sirius said, glancing at Lupin. “You’re asking for a full month of ongoing trial from the heads of Britain’s most powerful Wizarding households. If it’s even approved, the logistics of how it would work are nearly impossible.”

There was a long silence before Hermione answered. She took Sirius’ hand in her own, brown eyes meeting grey.

“They took twenty years of your life. The least they could do is give you a month of their own.”

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Their meeting had come to a close with a cry from the nursery. Ginny had excused herself soon after, wanting to see her family for supper. Draco had left as well, citing ministry business, and Hermione had insisted a certain surly toddler was needed for ice cream taste testing in the kitchen downstairs. 

That left an uncomfortable silence hanging in the air of Hermione’s study between Harry, Remus, and Sirius.

The older two wizards seemed to be daring the other to break it first. Harry just wanted someone to put them all out of their misery. He glanced at his tattered wrist watch. It had been 27 minutes. He stood, neither man looking at him, and strolled to an oak cupboard Harry knew Hermione kept her “shame stash,” (as Ron called it) of chocolates, Elderflower wine, and scotch. Harry selected a few glasses-taking his time pouring the stronger of the drinks-and with his back safely turned to the two wizards pondered how to break the silence.

“So Remus tells me the map is in your handwriting,” Harry decided upon, albeit lamely.

He turned, holding his wand in front of him and making the drinks float mid air. Remus was very determinedly looking at a tapestry behind Black; Sirius however locked eyes with Harry, speaking slowly as the latter sat. 

“Yeah- well technically it was in my brother Regulus’,” he said, “I didn’t want anyone to be able to match up the writing if we misplaced it, and I’m decent at mimicking handwriting.”

“Regulus Black? As in, the death eater?” Harry asked, shaking his head at himself for not making the connection sooner. 

Sirius visibly cringed

“Yep.”

“He was good in the end. Swiped a Horcrux from Voldemort- took me nearly a year to track down the real one and kill the damn thing because he hid it so well.”

Black’s eyes widened, surprised. 

“Where did it end up being?” 

“Found it on a house elf named Kreacher. We got stuck at Malfoy Manor during the war and we were able to convince him we wanted to destroy it.”

“Malfoy? Did the kid live there at the time?” Sirius growled.

“Yeah. He wasn’t much of a bloody help-he switched sides after- but Hermione’s seemed to forgive him alright.” Harry said, taking a long drink from his glass. 

“Is that where she got that shit on her arm?” Sirius sat up straight. Remus quirked his head-the anger that had crept into Sirius’ voice had not escaped his notice.

“That’s not our story to tell,” Remus said firmly, speaking for the first time in nearly an hour. The other two wizards looked at him cautiously. Silence fell upon the group once more. Lupin stood, putting his still full glass on the table between them. 

“I’m going to take Teddy home. Give Hermione my thanks,” he said curtly, not looking at the pair while walking to the trapdoor.

“And Padf- Sirius,” the professor paused before descending the staircase.

“It’ll just take time.”

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