The Goblet of Fire
By the time they'd returned to The Hog's Head, it was past midnight. They fell into bed, hardly noticing the mustiness of the sheets, and slept soundly well into the morning. Remus found himself being woken slowly by the warmth of the morning night that filtered through the grimy window and he blinked blearily at the brightness of it. Sirius was still asleep beside him, curled into a ball and buried low under the blankets.
He shuffled out from between the sheets trying not to wake him, and grabbed his rucksack, easing the squeaky door open quietly before heading down the hall to the shared bathroom. He stood under the shower for a long time, letting the hot water scold him, replaying the events of the previous evening: the scream that the Horcrux had made as it had broken under the sword, the terror he had felt. When he emerged, his skin was pink and sore, but he towelled it roughly anyway, throwing his clothes on and returning to find Sirius sitting up in bed, The Daily Prophet open across his lap. He looked so calm, propped against the pillows, golden light across his face - nothing that belied the late hour they'd gone to bed.
‘Anything interesting?’
‘They’ve announced The Triwizard Tournament,’ Sirius said, ‘It's a Skeeter article, so full of rubbish. She mentions the other schools though. Did you know Karkaroff was running Durmstrang?’’
‘Ah, yeah. Heard it somewhere maybe -’
‘Why are all these Death Eaters getting jobs in schools?’ Sirius huffed with frustration, ‘It’s ridiculous, don't people remember -’
‘You’re talking about Snape?’ Remus cut in, ‘Dumbledore says -’
‘I don't care what Dumbledore says. I don't trust him. Snape has always been out for himself.’
Remus paused, unsure of what to say. He didn't trust Severus either, really, but Dumbledore seemed to. Last year he'd been cold, but civil - until the night Sirius had turned up anyway. He'd made Remus his potion, and done it well. Perhaps it was time to put aside childhood grievances. They were adults now and they had to work together - had to try to. They needed all the help they could get. He imagined, for a moment, suggesting this to Sirius, but didn't.
‘Maybe that's why he's got Moody in. To keep an eye on Karkaroff,’ Sirius mused, ‘Although I reckon he's the one that should be keeping an eye on things. Can't imagine Voldemort would welcome him back after he gave up so many names.’
‘Mmm.’
‘Are you alright?’
Remus looked back at him, letting the question hang in the air for a moment.
‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘Yeah I am, I was just - I was just thinking - last night was just -’
Sirius folded the paper and put it down beside him.
‘Yeah,’ he said, looking up at Remus, ‘I know.’
*
They’d arranged to meet Harry that afternoon at the Three Broomsticks. Sirius had insisted they stop at Honeydukes first and had purchased an obscene number of sweets, which the wizard behind the till had crammed into the largest box he could find.
The pub was full of Hogwarts students when they arrived and they wove through the crowd to the alcove by the window where Harry and his friends sat. Sirius deposited his parcel in the centre of the table with a loud thunk and smiled.
‘Anyone need a drink? No? I'll go, Moony - time to say hello again to Rosmerta I think - it has been a while -.’
Sirius strode over to the bar, giving Madam Rosmerta his most winning grin and Remus took a seat at the table, squeezing in on the end between Hermione and Neville, who he was pleased to find had been asked along.
‘How are you all?’ he asked, looking around the table, ‘Good start to the year?’
‘Yes thanks,’ said Hermione, pushing a sheaf of parchment across the table towards him, ‘I’ve been very busy actually, I thought you might be interested.’
Remus looked down at the document, just as Sirius returned to the table, depositing a tankard in front of him and shuffling around the others to sit opposite Remus at the other end of the table.
‘Spew?’ Remus said, reading the large letters at the top of the page that was dense with text.
‘The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare,’ Hermione corrected, annunciating the words carefully. Out of the corner of his eye, Remus saw Harry shake his head at Ron, silencing whatever he had been about to say.
‘For centuries,’ Hermione continued, sounding practised, ‘House-elves have been enslaved by wizards -’
‘Enslaved?’ said Sirius’ voice from the other end of the table.
‘Yes, enslaved!’ said Hermione, her brow furrowed, ‘are they paid fairly? Do they have workplace rights? Unions?’
Sirius laughed, turning it into a cough much too late when he caught the look on Harry’s face. Hermione glared at him and turned back to Remus.
‘I thought you would be interested,’ she repeated, ‘In campaigning for the rights of magical creatures-’
‘Hermione!’ Harry hissed, glaring at her, ‘Just because -’
‘I certainly am,’ Remus said, glancing up at both Harry and Sirius as he turned to look at Hermione. ‘An honourable cause. I am always saying, Sirius, aren’t I, that we need to treat Kreacher with respect. Sign me up, Hermione.’
Hermione grinned at him widely and reached under the table for her bag, producing a box of badges and a quill.
‘You can sign here,’ she said eagerly, flicking to the last page of the document and handing him the quill, ‘And it’s two sickles for a badge.’
‘Well spent, I’ll take a blue one.’
Remus signed his name, noticing that the only others on the list belonged to the teenagers at the table, and smiled as he handed Hermione back her quill and tucked the badge into his pocket. He turned to the others, catching the end of something Harry was saying to Sirius -
‘- sort of, I guess yeah - he's cool,’ he shrugged and looked down at his Butterbeer.
‘The ferret thing was cool,’ Ron chimed in, ‘the lessons are… intense.’
‘Ferret thing?’ said Sirius just as Remus asked ‘Intense how?’
‘The ferret thing was wildly unprofessional,’ said Hermione.
‘Oh come on,’ Ron retorted, ‘You thought it was funny at the time -’
‘What ferret thing?’ Sirius said again, loudly.
‘Malfoy,’ Ron said, taking a sip from his glass, ‘tried to jinx Harry. So Moody turned him into a ferret.’
‘He what?’ Remus choked on the mouthful of beer he'd just taken, ‘An actual ferret? An animal?’
‘A little white one, yeah,’ Ron continued, ‘Blonde I guess.’
Harry had a strange look on his face, as if he wasn't sure how funny it was anymore. Remus looked across to Sirius, whose brow furrowed momentarily, before smoothing again.
‘That’s… bold, so early in the term,’ he said, smirking slightly.
‘Yeah McGonagall wasn't impressed.’
‘How are the lessons?’ said Remus, ‘I left notes -’
‘Yeah, he said we were up to date with creatures, but behind on curses, so that's what we've been focusing on.’ Harry glanced up again, this time his attention clearly concentrated on Neville, who was staring at his drink. Remus was starting to get the sense that Harry wanted to change the subject.
‘And Quidditch?’
‘There’s no cup this year!’ Harry said, his face suddenly clearing of its troubled look, ‘To make time for the Tournament -’’
They chatted for another hour, Sirius refreshing everyone's drinks and cracking open the Honeydukes box. Hermione spoke at length about her manifesto, reminding Remus again about the elf they'd encountered at the World Cup, and he was able to check in with Neville:
‘Potions is not so great,’ he admitted after some gentle probing, ‘I melted another cauldron - had to disembowel some toads -’
He looked slightly sick at the memory of it.
‘You know there's a spell for that,’ Remus said thoughtfully.
‘The cauldron or the toads?’ Neville asked.
‘Both actually, I think. Sirius - didn't you have a spell for disembowelment detentions?’
‘I absolutely did,’ Sirius called back, ‘Hermione - lend me that quill, I'll write it down for you -’
At four o'clock Hermione announced she had some errands to run, and dragged Ron and Neville off to the bookshop, leaving Harry behind with Sirius and Remus while they finished their drinks.
‘So?’ Sirius said, as the door to the pub closed behind his friends.
‘What?’ Harry replied.
‘What was it you didn't want to say in front of the others? About Moody?’
‘Ah yeah, nothing really,’ Harry paused, ‘He's great honestly, really knowledgeable, lessons are really - interesting - it was just - he - he showed us the Unforgivable Curses.’
‘Showed you?’ Remus said, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice.
‘On spiders,’ Harry said hurriedly, ‘But still - yeah. It was pretty intense - Neville had a hard time - had to see Moody after.’
Sirius made a noise somewhere high in his throat and reached for Harry’s shoulder. Remus looked at him steadily, unsure how to translate the strange look in his wide green eyes.
‘He showed you the Unforgivables? All of them?’ Remus asked, quietly.
Harry nodded and looked down at the table.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’
Harry shook his head.
‘Ok,’ Remus said, ‘You say if you change your mind.’
*
They had walked Harry to the road that led back up to the school, leaving him to meet his friends for the rest of the trip, before heading back towards the pub. They had one more night before they were due to head back to London, but Sirius had started talking about prolonging their stay: ‘in case Harry needs us’ he'd said.
‘Do you think Dumbledore knows?’
‘I expect so,’ Remus replied, ‘I don't think Moody would go that rogue.’
‘Showing them though,’ Sirius was incredulous, ‘to a class with Harry and Neville in. With no warning. I wonder if Neville’s told Augusta.’
‘Highly doubt it.’
Sirius fell quiet for a moment, chewing his lip as they passed the shopkeepers rolling down their shutters, closing up for the day.
‘He’s preparing them,’ he said quietly.
‘Sounds like it.’
They made their way back to the pub in silence. It was still light outside, but the windows of The Hog's Head gave off a welcoming glow beneath the grime. Remus rubbed his hip, he was looking forward to a lie down. Sirius pushed the door open ahead of him and he stepped through -
‘Speak of the devil,’ Sirius said, looking towards the bar.
Remus followed his gaze, to where Alastor Moody sat, both elbows on the bar, nursing a pint, his wooden leg propped awkwardly against the stool. He turned back to Sirius, who was staring at the old man with a dangerous look on his face.
‘Let’s leave it,’ Remus said, quietly, ‘We could get some dinner somewhere else.’
‘Can’t do that Moony,’ Sirius said, voice tight, ‘Got to have a little chat.’
He strode briskly across the room to the bar. Remus followed, raising his eyes to the ceiling for a moment and steeling himself slightly. It was probably a good thing they speak to him, maybe he'd have some information for them - if Remus could steer the conversation -’
‘Alastor!’ Sirius said cheerily, as he approached, raising a hand as if to clap Moody on the back, but remembering at the last moment that kind of behaviour was likely to get him hexed, ‘How’s tricks?’
Tricks?
Remus pulled up a stool beside where Sirius sat, nodding to Alastor and signalling to Aberforth to order them drinks.
‘Sirius.’ Moody said, gruffly, ‘And Remus Lupin.’
Remus thought he saw a flash of something pass across his face for a moment, but it vanished before he could identify it. Perhaps Moody was here waiting for someone, he thought. Perhaps they were interrupting.
‘How’s the job treating you?’ Remus asked, trying to keep his voice light, ‘Enjoying teaching?’
‘Ah yes,’ Moody said, not answering the question, ‘Used to be your gig, huh Lupin?’
‘Yeah -,’ said Remus, glancing at Sirius, who was frowning back at him.
‘Ah of course,’ Moody said, suddenly, ‘Potter. Expect that's what brings you two up here is it?’
‘Just visiting, yes,’ Sirius said, ‘Checking in. Heard your lessons have been interesting.’
Moody regarded him with his good eye, the other looking through the back of his head, towards the door. Sirius met his gaze, unwavering.
‘I aim to educate,’ Moody growled.
‘Unforgivables with the fourth years?’ Sirius pushed, ‘That your idea?’
Moody narrowed his eyes.
‘They’ll be seeing them in real life soon enough,’ he said, voice dangerous, ‘Better they've experience of them when they do.’
The tension was broken by Aberforth, setting two large tankards on the bar in front of them. ‘I’ll add it to your tab,’ he muttered, glancing between them and Moody, who was now looking over his shoulder with both eyes.
‘Waiting for someone?’
‘You’d do well to keep your nose out of other people's business, Sirius, or it might end up like mine,’ Moody snapped, head still turned towards the door.
Sirius looked slightly taken aback at his tone. Remus could see why. They’d always seemed to enjoy winding each other up - a quirk of their relationship that in the summer had seemed to have survived Azkaban, but Moody was not in a good mood this evening. Remus signalled to an empty table across the room and Sirius nodded, picking up their drinks and following him over to it, out of Moody's earshot.
‘He’s grumpier than usual today,’ said Remus, ‘Do you think we interrupted something? Think he's waiting for someone?’
‘Not sure, let's hang around a bit and see if anyone shows up.’
‘Bit weird - he was acting like he hadn't seen us for years - didn't he ask me about leaving teaching in the summer?’
‘Can’t really remember,’ Sirius replied, ‘Maybe it's the stress of the job? Or maybe the Weasley’s were right after all, maybe he has lost it.’
‘It’s a small thing,’ Remus shrugged, ‘Maybe he's just distracted.’
Sirius looked over at the bar where Moody’s hunched figure sat, still unaccompanied.
‘He called me Sirius,’ he said, looking back at Remus, brows knitted together. ‘Never once has he missed an opportunity to use my surname, to remind me who I am and where I came from - but just then, he called Sirius. Twice.’
*
They did return to London the next day, reasoning that Harry was busy at school anyway and that, being wizards, they could return at a moment's notice. Over the next few weeks, either side of another quiet potion-managed full moon, they continued their surveillance of the ex-Death Eaters they could get anywhere near, ticking them off Moody's list, but finding little to report.
They had also begun attempting to research Horcruxes, more specifically what Voldemort might have thought worthy of turning into one. The Black family library had several books filled with the births, marriages and deaths of the Sacred 28 and Remus had spent several hours trying to draw up a family tree. If Voldemort had chosen his grandfather’s ring, perhaps there were other heirlooms in play.
‘How's it going?’ Sirius said, coming into the library. He had spent the afternoon cleaning his motorbike and his forearms were still streaked with grease. Two cups of tea on a tray hovered beside him.
‘Oh alright,’ Remus replied, not looking up from the text he was pouring over. ‘Might help if they consistently included dates though, and stopped calling everyone by the same name.’
Sirius chuckled darkly, ‘Like Sirius Black III you mean?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Probably related to us. Have you checked the walls downstairs? Maybe we should be searching the cupboards here.’
‘Actually,’ Remus said, ‘The Gaunts seem to have mostly kept things even closer to home than the Blacks with the marriages. There might be a Black - but way way back, and I can't work out if she married in or was killed in a duel - the language used in the account of the event is - vague.’
‘Probably both to be honest,’ Sirius mused, wandering over and plucking a book from the pile on the desk and turning it over in his hands, ‘Weddings can get a bit - volatile when know one really wants to be there…’
‘Was that Harry earlier?’
‘Yeah,’ said Sirius, ‘Very excited, apparently they're choosing the champions this evening at the feast. He says that Quidditch player is one of the Durmstrang students - the up and coming lad from the World Cup.’
Remus shrugged.
‘Yeah,’ Sirius continued, ‘He says they haven't seen much of Karkaroff so -’ he tailed off, ‘Not much to say really,’ he shut the book he was holding with a sharp snap and shoved it roughly back onto the desk.
‘Hey,’ said Remus, looking up at him. Sirius' eyes were dark and his shoulders tense. He didn't meet Remus’ eye.
‘Pads,’ Remus said again, shifting back his chair and reaching out to take Sirius' hand, ‘We’re working on it, OK? We’re trying.’
‘It's just so frustrating!’ Sirius said suddenly, ‘It's never ending! I don't want to do this. I don't want to go back to creeping around, not knowing what's going on, not knowing who to trust. We've already given up everything once, and for what? We should just take Harry, pack him up, take him somewhere safe and forget all this. We've done our time.’
He stopped, abruptly. There were pink spots on his cheeks and his eyes were shining. He was breathing heavily.
‘You want to run?’ Remus asked, trying to keep his voice even.
‘Don’t you?’
‘All the time,’ Remus said, looking up at Sirius earnestly, ‘And I mean it, I go where you go. But I've been running for twelve years and I've - I've landed right back here -’
‘We’d be together this time,’ Sirius said, weakly.
‘I go where you go,’ Remus repeated, ‘Just say the word.’
Sirius looked at him for a long moment and Remus could see the fear in his eyes, the desperation. Maybe he was right, maybe they should just go - they could go anywhere, they could hide Harry with magic - they could -
Sirius let out a long breath and closed his eyes, folding back against the desk, perching lightly on the edge, shoulders slumped forward.
‘A few weeks ago it felt like we were doing something, but now - it's all so slow - What if we're too slow?’ he said, voice almost a whisper.
*
‘Shhh -’
‘What?’
‘Shh - listen - ouch! Hold still-’
Sirius laughed and Remus put his hand over his mouth, to stifle it, trying to listen for the noise he'd heard outside. Sirius’ eyes went wide for a moment as he sucked a breath in through his nose, and then crinkled again at the corners as he poked out his tongue and licked Remus’ palm.
‘Eurgh, Sirius!’ he hissed, ‘There’s someone coming, come on, we should go.’
Remus unlatched the door of the broom cupboard as quietly as he could and peered round it. The corridor was deserted, but a high pitched squeal was coming from somewhere round the corner, and it was getting louder.
‘Come on, quick,’ he whispered, tucking his shirt in and holding the door ajar for Sirius to slip through behind him.
‘What is that?’ Sirius said, starting to re-tie his school tie, but giving up and shoving it into his pocket instead.
‘If McGonagall catches-’
‘By the sounds of it, McGonagall is nowhere near here,’ Sirius said, starting off down the corridor, heading for the sound. They could hear laughter too now, several voices jeering as the squeaking continued, ‘Come on!’
They hurried towards the noise, rounding the corner to find -
Barty Crouch stood flanked on either side by several of his friends, wand pointed at a small figure that cowered on the ground. The ear-splitting squeaks that continued, unwavering, were coming from the figure, despite the hands they had clamped tightly over their own mouth.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Sirius shouted, drawing his wand.
‘Sirius - and Remus Lupin. What a surprise. I wonder what you two were doing up here at this time -’
‘Shut it Crouch,’ Sirius growled, ‘Let her go.’
‘Make me.’
Sirius took a step forward and suddenly several other wands were pointed their way. Remus drew his, squaring up alongside him. Barty smiled back at them savagely and the squeaks intensified.
‘Last warning Crouch.’ Sirius took another step, knuckles white around his wand.
‘This was getting dull anyway,’ Barty wafted a hand across his mouth in a faux yawn and the squeaking stopped. ‘I’ll let Regulus know you send your love,’ he paused and glanced down at the first year, still curled against the wall, ‘Catch you later, little mouse.’
He turned and sauntered away, his friends stumbling to keep up with him. Sirius followed them a few steps, wand still raised. Remus crouched down beside the little girl, who was now sitting back against the wall, crying softly.
‘Hey - are you OK? Are you hurt?’
She shook her head, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Remus didn't recognise her- she wasn't a Gryffindor.
‘Do you want to go to Pomfrey? Or back to your common room?’
'Common room,’ she stuttered, ‘Ravenclaw.’'
Remus pulled her gently to her feet. ‘Come on, we’ll walk you.’
They turned to go the opposite way down the corridor, back past the broom cupboard they'd been secreted in only minutes before.
‘Coming Pads?’ Remus called to Sirius, who was still staring down the hall, the others long gone, ‘Or are you going to stand there all night?’
Sirius caught them up. He was breathing heavily, still seething.
‘What happened?’ he said to the girl.
She looked up at him, eyes still full of tears and Remus wondered for a moment if he should step in. Tell Sirius to drop it.
‘I was just coming back from the library,’ she whimpered, ‘I went the wrong way and ran into them. He said I looked like a mouse and he was going to turn me into one.’
‘Mustrido?’ said Remus.
She turned to him, eyes wide with terror and nodded.
‘It’s ok,’ he said, ‘It’s just a temporary hex, it doesn't last, you’ll be ok now.’
‘He was trying to give me a tail,’ she whispered, ‘But the spell didn't work.’
*
‘Sirius? Sirius? Sirius!’
‘Harry?’
Remus woke with a start. Sirius was already sitting up, mirror open, reaching for the light on his side of the bed. Harry was only just visible in the glass, the space around him was dark and his face was heavily shadowed.
‘What’s the matter? Where are you?’ Sirius said, rubbing his eyes, voice thick with sleep.
‘Is it the middle of the night?’ Remus asked, aimlessly, dragging himself up. He'd been having a dream - somewhere in another dark Hogwarts corridor, many years ago - but it was quickly slipping away -
‘I’m sorry,’ Harry hiccuped - was he crying? ‘I was trying to wait but I couldn't sleep and you said -’
‘Anytime,’ Sirius confirmed steadily, ‘And I meant it. What's happened?’
‘The Goblet of Fire -’ Harry said, ‘It spat out my name - I didn't put it in - they're saying I have to compete -’
*
‘What does he think he's playing at?’
The sun was barely above the horizon but they'd been up for hours. Sirius had put his trousers on the moment Harry had finished his account of the evening's events and Remus had had to work hard to persuade him to wait until morning - to give Albus the chance to sort it out perhaps - it was clearly a mistake - maybe there was a simple solution -
‘Telling him he has to compete! When he didn't even enter! Binding magical contract is a load of shit! He's fourteen! When I get my -’
They arrived at the castle just after breakfast. Sirius had refused to owl to ask for passage through the Floo on the basis it would mean waiting for a reply, but they had sent a message to let Dumbledore know they were coming. He met them at the front doors, as he had before, escorting them personally to his office.
‘I distinctly remember,’ Sirius was saying, voice cold, ‘A conversation about Harry's safety being absolutely imperative. It was the only reason you gave me for his having to remain with his Aunt over the summer. And yet, as soon as he's back at school, under your roof, Allbus, he's suddenly taking part in a Tournament so dangerous it's been banned for hundreds of years, and has only been approved with an age requirement that he does not meet.’
Sirius paused for breath. They were standing in the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore was facing them, leaning back against his desk. He appeared to be listening intently. Remus wondered if he was just waiting for Sirius to run out of steam.
‘Harry is under the impression,’ Sirius continued, ‘That he must compete, despite the fact that he did not enter, which is obviously ridiculous?’
‘It may seem that way,’ Dumbledore replied calmly, ‘However the nature of the Tournament means that those whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete.’
‘Forgive me, Albus,’ Remus said, ‘But I am struggling to understand how someone can be bound by a contract if they didn't enter into one. Or, how a child of fourteen can be bound by a contract they are not old enough to sign?’
Dumbledore sighed, ‘I have had these same conversations with Mr Crouch and the committee. If there was any way around it -’
A noise of sheer frustration escaped Sirius' throat. Remus could see the effort he was making not to completely lose his temper. To be quite honest, he was struggling himself.
‘Have you any idea how his name got in there?’ Remus asked, glancing nervously at Sirius who was now pacing back and forth between the desk and the door. ‘It would've taken a powerful wizard to trick the Goblet - how many people who have had access to it in the last 24 hours would have been capable of such magic?’
Dumbledore looked up at him, his blue eyes thoughtful.
‘That is a very good question, Remus. And one I have been giving quite some thought to.’
Remus met his gaze and raised his eyebrows, as if to urge Dumbledore to elaborate. He did not.
‘So redo it,’ Sirius said, stopping suddenly, ‘Relight the goblet, enter the names again. Monitor it properly this time - hell, I'll do it myself -’
‘The Goblet has been extinguished,’ Dumbledore replied, ‘It won't ignite again until the next tournament. Really, Sirius -’
‘OK, well that's it then! We’re withdrawing him from the school. Come on Remus, let's go,’ Sirius turned and crossed the room, reaching for the door -
‘You know you cannot do that Sirius, you are not Harry's legal guardian -’
Sirius turned back to the Headmaster, the expression on his face so truly terrifying Remus felt himself involuntarily recoil slightly. Dumbledore didn't flinch.
‘Are you seriously telling me,’ Sirius spat, ‘That he is better off -’
A sharp rap at the door drowned out Sirius' words.
‘Enter!’ Dumbledore called, ignoring the glare that Sirius shot him. The door swung open to reveal Alastor Moody, leaning heavily on his walking stick.
‘Morning all,’ he rumbled, clunking into the room, his blue eye roving between them, ‘Quite a busy one all round it seems.’
‘Good morning, Alastor,’ Dumbledore said, smiling pleasantly at him.
‘Heard these two were up here berating you about Potter,’ Moody continued, ‘I’ve examined the Goblet, Albus - as far as I could with Crouch breathing down my neck - whatever enchantments may have been cast, they're long gone now. We may never know what was used to -’
‘Surely that's unsurprising?’ said Remus, ‘A perpetrator clever enough to trick such a powerful object wouldn't be careless enough to leave identifiable traces. Have you conducted a search? Examined wands?’
‘I’m the authority on the Dark Arts round here now, Lupin,’ Moody growled, ‘I’ll thank you to stop trying to tell me how to do my job.’
Remus felt like he'd been slapped. His face felt hot. He ignored the disgruntled sound Sirius had released and glanced up at Dumbledore, catching what might have been the smallest flicker of surprise in his eyes, so brief that a moment later he was sure he'd imagined it.
‘Alastor,’ Remus began to protest, ‘I wasn't -’
‘You need to stop coddling the boy,’ Moody snapped, ‘He is who he is, he needs to learn how to do things for himself.’
‘What are you on about?’ Sirius said, throwing his arms up, ‘As if he hasn't been doing that his whole life - What do you know about it anyway?’
‘The boy is always going to have a target on his back,’ Moody continued, ‘This tournament could teach him a valuable lesson -’
‘Think you're taking the title of teacher a little bit to heart here,’ Sirius replied, tone full of disdain, ‘Suddenly the authority on all things education are you?’
Moody narrowed both eyes, turning them on Sirius, who stared back, face full of rage.
Remus looked helplessly to Dumbledore, who appeared to be examining something on his desk, as if two grown men weren't squaring up for a duel in his office. This wasn't going anywhere, he thought. How had it all gotten so out of control? Maybe there was still time to run, like Sirius had said. Maybe they could grab Harry on the way out. He looked for Sirius to tell him they should go, but he was still focused on Moody - saying something Remus realised he couldn't hear - his ears were ringing - his eyes slid across the room, spotting Gryffindor’s sword, now back on its mount on the wall - he thought of the last time he'd been in this office, standing in this exact spot - his gaze returned to the desk, where the Horcrux had sat -
Without warning, three or four of the delicate glass instruments that lined the Headmaster's desk exploded. Dumbledore looked up, at last, but his gaze was directed at Sirius, who had stopped arguing, just as surprised.
‘Sorry, sorry -’ Remus whispered, ‘Sorry, I -’ he shook his head.
Sirius crossed the room in two strides and took his hand.
‘Enough of this,’ Sirius said, sharply, ‘We’d like to see Harry please. Right now. Alone.’