Old Friends and New Ones
The August moon passed quietly. Sirius had offered to fund the discreet engagement of a potioneer and Remus hadn’t protested. A not-small part of him longed for the freedom of the full moons they'd had at school but it felt foolhardy in their current fragile state. So, he diligently consumed his potion, and they curled up together at the flat, as they had done the month before, wolf and dog, to wait for morning.
Remus awoke at the sound of the window closing, opening his eyes to see Sirius unrolling the newspapers.
‘Hey, feeling ok?’
Remus pushed himself up and nodded, ‘bit sore.’
‘I’ll get the kettle on - here,’ Sirius passed him the newspapers and left the room. Remus could hear him clattering into the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards. It was a comforting sound. He settled himself against the pillows and picked up the Daily Prophet. Hype for the Quidditch World Cup covered the back page and he scanned it half-heartedly.
‘Looks like Ireland are going to be playing Bulgaria,’ he said as Sirius reappeared with two mugs.
Sirius laughed, ‘We’ve known that for at least a week Moony.’
Remus turned the paper over to begin his daily close reading of the news. They hadn't spotted anything of interest for a couple of weeks, not that they'd been able to do anything with what they had seen. He reached the bottom of page six -
‘Bertha Jorkins. Wasn't she a couple of years above us?’
‘Huh?’ Sirius said, his nose rising from between the pages of Le Cri de la Gargouille, ‘Jorkins? Yeah she was that really nosy girl wasn't she? Massive gossip. What about her?’
‘She’s missing. There's just a tiny little notice here from her family. She was on holiday in Albania…’
They looked at each other.
‘Could be a coincidence?’ Sirius said, hopefully.
‘Could be - it says she works for the Ministry but there's no comment here so they can't be that worried -’ Remus replied, brow furrowed. He reached for his wand, ‘diffindo.’
The column inch dedicated to Bertha separated neatly from the paper and fluttered onto the bed.
*
‘Sirius? Hello? Sirius?’
Remus woke with a start, looking around blearily for the source of the voice. Had he just been dreaming?
‘Sirius?’
It was Harry. Where was the mirror? He nudged Sirius awake, clambering over him on the bed and rifling through the bedside table to find it.
‘Harry?’ he said, opening it to reveal a pair of green eyes under a shock of dark hair, ‘what’s the matter?’ he glanced at the clock - they’d overslept. He felt Sirius sit up beside him and turned the mirror so he could see.
‘Oh - no, sorry,’ said Harry, ‘I thought you’d be up.’
‘We’re up, what’s happened?’ Sirius’ asked, concerned, reaching for the mirror. Remus let him take it, settling himself anxiously beside him to listen.
‘Guess what?’
‘What?’
‘Ron’s dad got tickets for the Quidditch World Cup! We weren’t sure if he’d manage! And the Dursleys have said I can go.’
Remus laughed, feeling the tension leave his body with such speed that he almost flopped backwards onto the bed.
‘That’s great, Harry,’ Sirius said, smiling back at him, ‘it’ll be amazing - first time it’s been held here in what? Thirty years?’
‘Yeah I can’t wait,’ said Harry, ‘they’re coming to pick me up this evening. I just wanted to let you guys know where I’d be and -’ he paused, his gaze drifting slightly from the mirror, a sudden look of unease on his face.
‘Go on,’ said Sirius, encouragingly.
‘Um - it's probably nothing,’ Harry began, ‘I’m actually totally fine now, I barely even remember - but yesterday morning I - I had a really weird dream and then I woke up because my scar was hurting and -’ he tailed off, chewing his lip.
Remus looked at Sirius, but he was staring back at Harry, his expression unreadable.
‘What happened in the dream?’ Remus prompted, shuffling closer and peering into the mirror.
‘Um-,’ Harry said again, ‘well, I don't - I sort of don't remember but -’
Remus could see Sirius' knuckles whitening slightly on the edge of the mirror. He put one hand on his knee, steading his tapping foot.
‘- it was Voldemort,’ Harry said eventually, ‘and - Peter, and a huge snake and an old man. I couldn't see Voldemort at first, he was sitting in a chair and then the chair turned and I - my scar - I woke up.’
Harry was looking at them nervously. Sirius was still staring at him. Shit, Remus thought. What do we say to that?
‘That sounds very frightening Harry,’ he said, ‘I’m glad you’ve let us know…’ he paused, casting around for something else, ‘did, er, is that everything you saw?’
‘Pretty much,’ Harry said, ‘I - I think Voldemort did something - to the old man. He fell. And they were talking about - about killing someone…’
‘Has your scar hurt like this before?’ Sirius said, throat tight.
‘Yeah - that's why I was a bit worried really - it felt like it did when Voldemort was at Hogwarts - but it stopped really quickly and it hasn’t come back so -’
Sirius stood up very suddenly, dislodging the duvet that had been tangled around him, causing it to slither to the ground around Remus’ feet in a soft pile.
‘We’ll come and pick you up,’ he said, ‘we’ll come now, we can be there in an hour.’ He handed Remus the mirror and reached for yesterday's t-shirt, pulling it over his head.
‘Do you think -’ Harry looked alarmed, ‘I mean, I think it's fine. It has totally stopped hurting now. It was only for a second. If he was here then it would hurt all the time right? Way more. And Ron’s coming to pick me up at five - and I don't know if you should - I think my Aunt might - she's a bit scared - of you.’
Sirius turned where he stood and raised his eyebrows, ‘scared of who?’
‘Of Remus,’ Harry said, ‘mostly. I don't think she liked you either though.’
‘Heh. You wound me, Harry,’ Sirius said, returning to the bed, ‘I think we do need to come and get you. I want to make sure you're safe.’
‘I am, I am. I'm not going anywhere, I promise. I'll stay inside and then I'll be with the Weasleys. I can call you if anything happens. Maybe you guys can come there or something, after the match?’
They looked at each other for a moment, and then back at Harry’s imploring face.
‘OK,’ said Sirius eventually, ‘but I want you to call when you get to Ron’s house, and tell us exactly what the plans are while you are there. And I want to speak to Ron’s parents.’
‘OK, definitely, cool.’ Harry said, smiling tentatively again.
They said their goodbyes, smiling in spite of their concern at Harry’s unbridled excitement and closed the mirror.
‘Dumbledore?’ Remus said.
‘Yep.’
*
Their Floo to Dumbledore’s office had been closed shortly after Remus left his post. Sirius had wanted to go charging up to the castle, but it was the summer and they had no way of knowing where Dumbledore would be. Most of the teachers went home for the holidays, leaving Filch and Hagrid to oversee the castle, and the headmaster was well known for doing his own thing, even once term had started. So, in the end, they sent an owl to request a meeting.
‘What do we do now?’
‘Wait. He might get straight back to us.’
‘Do you think it was a vision?’
‘I think it didn't really sound like a dream.’
‘So Peter’s found him, brought him back?’
‘Mmm.’
‘What do we do?’
That afternoon found them leaning against the wall in the alleyway opposite 4 Privet Drive. It was hot, and the disillusionment charm Remus had cast felt heavy against his skin. They had waited a few hours for a return owl, but when none came, Sirius had been so anxious that as ridiculous as it seemed, a Surrey stake out had been their only option.
‘Muffliato,’ Sirius whispered, as an old lady in a hairnet shuffled down the alleyway, a cat at her heels. She was humming quietly to herself, with what appeared to be an empty plastic bag in one hand. They shrank back slightly as she neared, ensuring a clear path, all concentration still on the house over the road.
‘Friend or foe?’ she said, suddenly.
Remus looked up - he couldn't see Sirius - and down - he couldn't see himself - but she was looking right at him. Was she talking to the cat?
‘What do you think?’ she continued, turning to the cat this time, who mewed and rubbed itself round her stockinged legs. It was a rather large cat, Remus thought. It looked a bit like that one Sirius had befriended -
‘I know you're there,’ she spoke again, ‘I can see the shimmer and I can hear the buzz. Hanging about invisible in alleyways is very suspicious behaviour, and I am want to report that kind of thing.’
‘Friend,’ said Sirius' voice beside him, ‘report to who?’
‘Albus Dumbledore of course,’ she said.
Sirius' head appeared, eyes wide. ‘Dumbledore?’
The old lady smiled. ‘Well, well, Sirius Black,’ she said, ‘he mentioned you might be likely to crop up round these parts. Arabella-’ she held out her hand, ‘Arabella Figg.’
Remus watched as the rest of Sirius emerged in the alleyway and he reached forward to shake the hand she’d held out.
‘Is your friend going to join us?’ she said, nodding to where Remus stood, still hidden.
He drew his wand, lifting the charm, feeling hot-faced as if he was about to be told off. ‘Remus Lupin,’ he said.
‘Very nice to meet you,’ she nodded curtly, ‘what are you doing skulking about? I thought you were on good terms with the boy?’
Oh, Remus thought, she knows Harry too.
‘Is my information out of date?’ she continued, eyes narrowing.
‘No, no’ said Sirius, hurriedly, ‘not at all. We were just a bit worried and wanted to keep an eye on him until his friends pick him up this evening -’
‘Something up?’ she asked.
‘Not sure, we're waiting on a reply from Albus actually. Don't suppose you know how to get hold of him at short notice?’
‘Of course I do,’ she said, as if it was the most obvious fact in the world, ‘why don't you come round for a cup of tea. You can see over their back fence from my garden so you can keep up your spying at the same time.’
They looked at each other, utterly baffled by the strange woman who seemed so full of knowledge. Remus vaguely wondered if it could be a trap, but if old Muggle cat ladies were Voldemort's current weapon of choice then - well he didn't know what to do with that. They followed her through the mouth of the alleyway, crossing Privet Drive, glancing up at number 4 as they passed, and continuing round to a little mews street with a sign that read ‘Wisteria Walk’. She led them up the overgrown garden path, unlocking the door and ushering them in. They made their way through to the living room, which opened into a lean-to conservatory that gave clear views of a wild garden. She pushed past them to open the back door.
‘There you go, get yourselves a seat there on the patio and you can watch the back of the house instead. I'll pop the kettle on,’ she indicated to two rickety garden chairs, under which any patio was completely obscured by long dead grass and disappeared back the way they had come.
They looked at each other.
‘Doesn’t seem like a trap…’
‘I think we can overpower her if necessary,’ Remus said, sounding more confident than he felt. There was something distinctly unsettling about this woman and her house that seemed to purposefully overlook Harry’s. He rubbed his hip, still sore from the full moon, and Sirius nodded to the chair.
‘Let’s sit, I'll stand when - if she comes back.’
Remus lowered himself gratefully into the chair and almost immediately found a very large fluffy cat on his lap. It settled itself, kneading at his legs, purring loudly. He stroked it absent-mindedly as they sat for a moment, silently gazing across the unkempt garden. Remus noticed a ceramic garden gnome peeking out of the long grass, a large chip in its red hat, and an old stone planter wedged against the back fence that had something that looked a lot like snakeweed curling out of it. All seemed quiet. He wondered what Harry was doing - probably packing his trunk, buzzing with excitement about the World Cup.
‘Righto,’ Mrs Figg said, bustling back out of the door with a tray. Sirius got up from his seat and she took it, setting the tray on the ground between them atop the dead grass and lifting the teapot.
‘Are you not going to sit down?’ she asked abruptly, looking up, ‘you’re hovering.’
‘Um-’ Sirius looked around the garden, ‘is there another chair I can -’
‘You’re a wizard are you not?’ she snapped, shaking her head and passing Remus a mug of tea.
‘Oh - uh, yeah, sorry.’ Sirius said, making a face but swiftly producing his wand to draw a chair in the air.
‘We’ll need two,’ Mrs Figg added, nodding expectantly at the gap beside Sirius’ chair, ‘Albus is on his way.’
It was an odd little tea party, made no less strange by the arrival of Albus Dumbledore, in full wizarding robes and hat, strolling into the garden a few moments later.
‘Arabella! It has been a while,’ he said, pleasantly, greeting her with a handshake and rubbing the head of the cat on Remus’ lap as he passed to take the empty chair. ‘And lovely to see you two as always,’ he leant forward to accept the mug Mrs Figg was offering, and glanced briefly over his shoulder at the back of 4 Privet Drive.
‘All good over there?’
‘So far,’ she said, ‘apparently the boy is being picked up by some friends this evening, these two just wanted to keep an eye on the exchange.’
‘Ah yes, the Quidditch World Cup,’ Dumbledore said, ‘I daresay Harry is very excited,’ he paused, looking between them, ‘and what is it that has got you two so worked up?’
‘We sent an owl-’ Remus began.
‘Oh, well. I’ve been - travelling,’ Dumbledore said, not elaborating. ‘I expect it will catch up with me eventually but, until then,’ he spread his hands and nodded encouragingly. Remus wondered how on earth it was that Mrs Figg had such a direct line to Dumbledore. Was she living here specifically to keep an eye on Harry?
‘Harry had a dream,’ Sirius said, ‘a very concerning one. He saw Voldemort. Peter was with him - they were plotting murder. Harry said that his scar hurt, the way it does when Voldemort is near,’ he paused and drew a long breath, Dumbledore did not respond, gazing at Sirius unblinking, the way he did when he was waiting for more information.
‘We’ve been reading the papers,’ Sirius continued, ‘there have been reports that could have been linked to Peter all through eastern Europe, and now it looks like Voldemort is back. Here.’
Dumbledore nodded slightly, resting his fingers against each other in his lap. He looked over at Remus, and raised his eyebrows as if to indicate his turn.
‘Um-,’ Remus hesitated, ‘we’ve been searching the house,’ he said, ‘we've found - we're not sure what we've found, but it looks like Regulus was doing - something. We’re not sure what. There's a book of interest but it's damaged -’
Dumbledore nodded again. ‘Yes - ‘ he began, his tone grave, ‘well. There does-’
He was cut off by a loud bang from the bottom of the garden. Sirius leapt up immediately and Remus followed, dislodging the cat which meowed in protest and streaked back into the house. They reached the back fence in seconds, wands out and stepped up onto the stone trough which gave them enough height to see…
Remus didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't what he was seeing now: Harry was standing in the centre of the Dursley’s living room, both arms outstretched under what looked like a great cloud of dust. His uncle stood at one end of the room, chest heaving and face purple. Opposite, stood a collection of red-headed figures who all seemed to be moving and talking at once. They watched as the foremost redhead - Arthur Weasley it must be - extended a hand and moved forward, causing Vernon Dursley to back dramatically away, revealing Harry’s aunt, whose slight profile had previously been completely obscured by her husband.
‘Oh,’ said Remus suddenly understanding, ‘they’ve tried to Floo.’
Sirius snorted beside him and Remus looked over to see he was thoroughly enjoying the spectacle. He looked back over his shoulder to where Dumbledore and Mrs Figg still sat, seemingly unconcerned.
‘Do you think they're alright?’ Remus said.
‘Yeah - ,’ said Sirius, uncertainly, as they watched the twins disappear and reappear a few minutes later with Harry’s trunk. Arthur had begun to chivvy them all back towards the fireplace, but his sons seemed to be causing some kind of havoc below window level that Remus couldn't quite make out. Gradually the Weasley boys disappeared, leaving just Harry and Arthur in the middle of the room. After a pause, Harry turned to go and then - something was happening again, Petunia was wailing, so loudly the sound was carrying through the open window and across the garden.
‘Gosh,’ said a quiet voice beside him, ‘they are making an awful racket.’
Remus looked to his right to see Dumbledore had risen and come to stand beside them, his tall hat clearing the fence quite unsubtly. They watched together as Arthur sent Harry to the fireplace, ducking the ceramic ornament Vernon had hurled at his head, and then proceeded to try to shout over the din, his hands raised, as the Dursleys writhed together on the floor.
‘Should we -’
‘I think Arthur can handle it,’ Dumbledore said, with an air of such calm certainty, Remus almost didn't doubt him. ‘Shall we continue our discussion -’ he gestured towards the chairs where Mrs Figg still sat, now with three of the fluffy cats perched at various intervals across her body.
‘Right, where were we?’ Dumbledore continued, as they settled themselves back into the chairs. There was still a great deal of shouting coming from the other side of the fence, but Dumbledore sipped his tea as though he couldn't hear it. ‘Oh yes,’ he paused, ‘there do seem to be multiple signs that Voldemort’s return is imminent.’
Remus felt as if icy water had been poured unexpectedly down his back. He shuddered involuntarily and looked at Sirius, whose eyes had gone dark, his hands clenching at the armrests of his chair. They'd known, of course they had, but to hear it confirmed, so simply - said, so matter of factly -
‘It has been suspected for some time that he has been hidden somewhere, deep in the forests of Albania. You have seen the recent news reports and now, a witch, vanished without a trace in the same place.’
‘Bertha,’ Sirius breathed, ‘but there was barely a full article -’
‘The Ministry is not quite ready to accept the reality of the situation,’ Dumbledore continued, ‘but that of course makes it all the more essential that we do.’
*
‘This is it,’ Remus whispered, looking up and down the dark street. ‘What time is it?’
‘Its four fifty-nine,’ said Sirius, ‘any minute now.’
‘Psst -’
Remus looked up for the source of the noise, spotting someone, just visible in the shadows across the road. He nudged Sirius, nodding in the direction of the hunched figure and made to move towards them. The figure turned and walked away, limping slightly, but managing to keep a short distance between them as they followed. They continued round a corner and through a short passage that wound between two buildings, stopping when they spotted a back gate left ajar. Remus pushed it open, gently and found himself confronted with the wand tip of Alastor Moody.
‘Alastor,’ he said, as pleasantly as he could, trying to keep as still as possible whilst also holding a hand out to slow Sirius as he came through the gate behind him.
‘Remus,’ the old man growled, ‘and young Black,’ his eye whizzed up and down, checking them over, before swivelling in his head, ‘long time.’
‘Yes,’ said Remus, ‘how would you feel about lowering your wand, Alastor? We’re old friends.’
‘Friends is a stretch, Moony,’ said Sirius, with a glint in his eye.
He was completely right, but Remus' insides clenched as he said it. They were here to ask Moody for help, not to wind him up. But to Remus’ surprise, the old man lowered his wand and coughed out a gruff laugh.
‘Azkaban didn't cure the insolence I see.’
Remus winced. A deadly silence hung between them for a few seconds - he couldn't look - and then, Sirius laughed too, heartily. Honestly, Remus could hardly keep up sometimes.
‘Let’s get this over with,’ he said and Moody nodded, waving his wand at the gate they had come through and leading them through the door at the back of the house.
They found themselves in a small sitting room, the dresser cluttered with dirty crockery interspersed with magical instruments, each humming or whirring or ticking quietly. Moody shuffled around them, lighting the grate with his wand, despite the fact it was already a warm morning and took a seat in the winged armchair that stood by the fireplace, leaning forward to examine one of the rolls of parchment that crowded the coffee table.
‘Albus said you need names,’ he muttered gruffly. He hadn’t looked up, but Remus had the distinct impression his magical eye was trained on them through the side of his head.
‘Yes -’ he began, ‘- you're aware of the situation?’
‘I’m always aware,’ Moody snapped, ‘you’re looking at a lifetime of awareness right here.’
Remus glanced at Sirius who rolled his eyes.
'Thought he had you teaching?' Moody added, nodding in Remus' direction.
Remus shook his head, ‘Not anymore. Albus said you could give us a list - last known Death Eaters and their current whereabouts. He wants people kept an eye on.’
‘And you two are going to do that are you?’
‘Why not?’ said Sirius, defensively. Remus caught his eye and shook his head in warning, but Moody had seen.
‘Proving my point there, Black. Easily provoked! Got to be able to keep your head in these situations!’
Remus put a hand out, touching Sirius lightly on the wrist. Leave it, he thought, please. Sirius and Moody had always had an - interesting - relationship. The last thing he wanted was a rehashing of some 15 year old mission…
‘Just give us the list, Alastor,’ Sirius said, gritting his teeth.
Moody held up a sheet of parchment, glaring at them pointedly and reached for a quill, ‘the list’s in here,’ he said, tapping the side of his head with his free hand, ‘so you’ll have to wait.’
They stood, awkwardly as he scribbled away, Remus looking across the room at the various instruments that continued to buzz, a frustrating chorus of noise too quiet to hear properly - he wondered how Moody could stand it. He recognised a large sneakoscope, balanced perfectly on its point and as he moved to look more closely, saw Sirius out of the corner of his eye, wandering over to the back window to gaze out across the untidy yard. Remus went to stand beside him, briefly grasping his hand before turning back to watch Moody.
Suddenly the wireless on the sideboard crackled. Moody looked up, his quill leaving a long scratch across the parchment, it fuzzed for a moment and then the voices became clear …Chaos at the Quidditch World Cup… the newsreader was saying… scenes of terror and destruction as dark wizards, identities obscured by masks attacked the campsite last night, causing fans to flee…
‘Turn it up,’ growled Moody and Remus darted forwards to adjust the volume dial.
…the appearance of The Dark Mark, not seen in the sky for thirteen years. The Ministry has yet to make any formal statement, although one official reported that there had been no serious injuries. Were you there? We’d like to hear from you! Contact the station…
Moody pointed his wand at the radio and the sound of the reporter’s voice faded. The look of horror on Sirius’ face reflected exactly how Remus felt.
‘We’ve got to go, Alastor,’ Remus said, voice tight, ‘is the list ready?’
Moody held it out and Remus took it, rolling it up without looking and shoving it into his jacket pocket.
‘We’ll be in touch - let us out the gate,’ he said, grabbing Sirius by the hand and pulling him out of the back door and back across the yard, narrowly avoiding the dustbins that lined the back wall. The gate swung open as they approached and they ducked back into the passage that ran behind the house.
‘Harry -’ said Sirius, as Remus clutched him to his side and disapparated.
*
‘They’re not back yet,’ Molly was saying, ‘but look -’ she pointed to the large clock on the wall in the corner, ‘they won’t be long.’
Remus glanced up at the clock to see that indeed, eight of the hands were currently pointing to ‘travelling’.
‘Any minute I should think,’ she said, using her wand to direct two mugs of tea across towards them. She was shaking and the tea spilt slightly as the mugs dropped clumsily onto the table. Remus reached for the newspaper that had been left beside them: Scenes of Terror at the Quidditch World Cup, read the headline above a large black and white image of the Dark Mark sparkling over the treetops. The article, though full of criticism, held no more information than they’d heard on the wireless that morning.
‘But who-’ Sirius began, reading over his shoulder.
‘Oh thank goodness, thank goodness!’
Molly, who had been watching out of the window, hurried round the table and out of the door. They followed, hot on her heels, into the front garden, to find Harry and the rest of the Weasleys making their way wearily towards the house.
‘Arthur - I’ve been so worried - so worried -’ Molly fussed, hugging him, before turning to gather Fred and George in her arms, both boys struggling against the bone crushing embrace. Sirius darted past them to where Harry, Ron and Hermione were lagging behind, further down the path. Remus watched as Harry smiled shyly at him, shaking his head at whatever Sirius had said, and then as Sirius hugged him, hard.
*
‘So what exactly happened,’ Sirius asked, ‘leave nothing out.’
They were sitting again at the Weasleys’ kitchen table. Arthur had rushed into the office, Percy hurrying after him. Molly, after much protest, had gone for a lie down - in need of a rest after the early morning shock and the shot of firewhisky Arthur had popped into her tea. Remus had had to promise they'd keep an eye on the kids, regardless of the fact that Bill and Charlie were grown adults and the others were all plenty old enough to look after themselves.
‘We were asleep - Mr Weasley woke us up, told us we had to get out of the tent and into the woods,’ Harry began, ‘we didn't know what was going on. When we got outside there were people running everywhere, it was really difficult to see and then -’ he broke off, a pained look on his face as he searched for the words, ‘- then we saw them - some wizards had bewitched the family that ran the campsite -’
‘The Muggle family,’ Hermione cut in, eyes shining, ‘they were levitating them, the children too, they were terrified.’
‘They were wearing masks,’ Harry said, ‘but there were a lot of them. Moving through the campsite laughing and blasting tents out the way. You guys went to help -’ he gestured to Bill and Charlie who were leaning against the sideboard, listening to the conversation. ‘We ran -’
Remus looked across at the older boys. ‘What happened when you went to help?’
‘There were a lot of Ministry wizards about,’ said Bill, ‘but they were worried about getting the Muggles down - I don't think they could work out who was casting the spells, and loads of idiots had joined the larger crowd, blocking them. It was the Mark that scared them off. They all disapparated as soon as they saw it - Dad said he didn't think they'd managed to get any names or faces at all.’
‘Though it's probably not that hard to make a guess,’ Charlie added darkly.
‘Yeah, we bumped into Malfoy in the woods,’ Ron said, ‘he as good as admitted his parents were there somewhere.’
Sirius looked at Remus. He knew what he was thinking: the roll of parchment in his pocket was probably a list of the people who had been in that crowd.
‘So you bumped into Draco in the woods,’ Sirius said to Harry, ‘what then?’
‘We were looking for the others,’ Harry went on, ‘we’d lost Ginny and the twins. It was difficult to know where to go, there were loads of people in the woods -’
‘Who?’ Remus said, trying to get Harry to slow the story down, ‘who did you see?’
‘Erm-’
‘Winky,’ said Hermione, ‘Mr Crouch’s house-elf, and Ludo Bagman. He had no idea what was going on at the campsite, we don't know what he'd been doing.’
‘Crouch? Barty Crouch?’ said Sirius, his brow furrowed, 'As in-'.
‘Yeah, she was saving a seat for him at the match. And then she had my wand.’
‘Wait, what?’ Sirius looked outraged. ‘The elf had your wand?’
‘Oh not you too,’ Hermione rolled her eyes. ‘Honestly this attitude is disgusting-’
‘Stop stop stop,’ Remus put his hands up. Merlin, he thought. Teenagers. ‘Rewind a bit - you saw Winky, you saw Bagman, then what happened.’
‘Then we were just waiting in the woods, and we heard someone cast a spell, and saw the mark appear over the treetops. It was only a few seconds before all the officials turned up-’
‘- shooting stunning spells everywhere - almost hit us!’ Ron interjected.
‘- and then they searched the woods and found Winky, with my wand, and she'd used it - or it had been used - to cast the mark - they did that thing to see what the last spell used was - ’
‘What?’ said Sirius voice scandalised, ‘the elf used your wand?’
‘Her name is Winky!’ Hermione exclaimed.
‘An elf couldn't cast the Dark Mark with a wand,’ said Remus quietly, but with enough gravity to silence the others for a moment.
‘That’s what Dad said to Mr Diggory,’ said Ron, after a pause, ‘and we heard the spell anyway, it was a human voice - a man I'd have said.’
‘But there was no sign of them?’
‘None - they all decided he must have disapparated.’
‘Hmm,’ said Remus and Sirius looked over at him, asking him the question with his eyes. Remus shook his head. Later.
*
They stayed for the rest of the afternoon. Molly had reappeared and put together an incredible lunch spread which she laid out in the garden as a picnic. It was a beautifully sunny day and the events of the previous night and early morning felt strangely distant as they sat together in the shade of the fruit trees which lined the garden. The Weasley children had pulled out their collection of broomsticks for a makeshift game of Quidditch, and Sirius had been only too eager to make it four against four. Remus stayed on the rug, happy to watch them, with Hermione beside him, nose in a copy of the Standard Book of Spells Grade 4.
Arthur and Percy arrived back as they were finishing dinner, tired and rumpled.
‘Well, the fat’s really in the fire now,’ Arthur muttered as he picked at cold cauliflower, ‘Rita Skeeter’s been ferreting around all week, looking for more Ministry mess-ups to report. And now she’s found out about poor old Bertha going missing, so that’ll be the headline in the Prophet tomorrow. I told Bagman he should have sent someone to look for her ages ago.’
‘Bertha -’ Sirius muttered under his breath, so only Remus could hear him.
‘Mr. Crouch has been saying it for weeks and weeks,’ Percy chimed in.
‘Crouch is very lucky Rita hasn’t found out about Winky,’ said Arthur irritably. ‘There’d be a week’s worth of headlines about his house-elf being caught holding the wand that conjured the Dark Mark.’
‘I thought we were all agreed that that elf, while irresponsible, did not conjure the Mark?’ Percy said, his face reddening.
‘Does Mr Crouch -’ Remus began, glancing across at Sirius, but he was cut off by Hermione’s loud scoff.
‘If you ask me, Mr. Crouch is very lucky no one at the Daily Prophet knows how mean he is to elves!’ she said angrily.
‘Now look here, Hermione!’ said Percy. ‘A high-ranking Ministry official like Mr. Crouch deserves unswerving obedience from his servants -’
‘His slave, you mean!’ she exclaimed, ‘‘because he didn’t pay Winky, did he?’
‘Off you all go right now!’ said Mrs Weasley suddenly, flapping a tea towel at Percy as he strode from the table towards the stairs. ‘We don't need any more bickering. Your father has had a long day!’
They gradually disappeared upstairs. Remus could hear feet thundering on the floorboards above them as the children moved from room to room, shouting to each other. Harry hung back, waiting for them to finish their coffee. They said their goodbyes to Molly and Arthur, and let Harry walk them to the door.
‘We could come and see you on to the train if you’d like?’ Sirius said, ‘meet you at the station?’
‘No,’ said Harry, ‘honestly, we’ll probably be late and it’ll be really busy. I'll call you though.’
‘OK,’ Remus said, ‘make sure you do, and have a good last few days of your holiday,’ he put a hand on Harry’s shoulder and squeezed.
‘Thanks for coming,’ Harry said, ‘I was totally fine the whole time though - you really didn’t need to.’
‘Yes we did,’ Sirius said, simply, ‘we’ll always come. We’ll always come for you, Harry.’