A Horcrux and a Horntail
Sirius sat, hunched over, elbows on knees, head in hands. Remus sat beside him, staring down at the mug in his hands. Minutes passed but neither of them spoke, until -
‘I was joking,’ Sirius said, voice muffled.
‘Huh?’
‘About searching the cupboards here. I was joking.’
‘I know,’ Remus said, putting the mug on the table and placing a hand on Sirius’ back, ‘I know.’
It was a gloomy morning with no sign of the sunshine they'd enjoyed the day before, and the grey light that filtered through from the garden gave no sense of time passing. Looking back, even shortly after, Remus could not have guessed how long they'd sat there before there was a whoosh of green flame, and Albus Dumbledore stepped from their fireplace, Kreacher in tow. Any other morning, Remus might have marvelled at how strange a sight he was, standing in their kitchen, in full wizard robes and tall hat, brandishing an antique sword. Any other morning.
‘Kreacher tells me you have located another Horcrux.’
Remus nodded, pushing the mug across the table. Sirius had not looked up, remaining hunched over on the bench. Dumbledore lifted the mug curiously, peering in at its contents, eyebrows raised.
‘You located another Horcrux… and popped it in a teacup.’
‘I didn't want to touch it,’ Remus replied, ‘After what we said about the other one.’
‘Mmm,’ Dumbledore said, looking over at Sirius. Remus shook his head.
‘Well, I brought the sword,’ Dumbledore continued, ‘So perhaps we can just -’
‘Kreacher thinks it must be opened,’ Remus cut in, ‘In order to destroy it, but nothing seems to work -’
Dumbledore looked curiously at the elf and nodded wordlessly. He drew his wand and used it to levitate the locket out of the mug, turning it slowly as he examined it. Glittering green stones were inlaid across its front, in an S shape, like a snake, Remus thought. Dumbledore laid the locket down on the table and waved his wand over it. Nothing happened.
‘Hmm,’ he said, ‘I wonder…’
Sirius had raised his head, turning on the bench to watch Dumbledore’s examination of the locket. Remus reached across to squeeze his hand.
‘I suspect that it will open,’ said Dumbledore in a quiet voice, ‘With the correct instruction, but we must be ready, for who knows the horrors that are contained within.’
He paused and looked up at them, holding out the sword. Silently, Sirius stood, reaching for it as he moved to stand at the end of the table.
‘Very well,’ Dumbledore nodded, stepping aside, ‘On three… two… one…’
A strange hissing sound came out of Dumbledore’s mouth. Remus glanced up in momentary surprise but then there was a click, and the locket opened, revealing glass windows, behind which blinked two living eyes, dark and handsome. Sirius took an involuntary step back, a look of terror on his face.
‘I have seen your heart, and it is mine.’
The locket was speaking to them, its voice a low hiss, that wound upwards from the table like smoke.
‘I see you, Sirius Black. I see your dreams and your fears…’
Remus tried to move, to reach for Sirius but found himself rooted to the spot, jaw locked. He could only watch in horror as taunts emanated from the locket.
‘No loyalty to your family, your brother abandoned… no loyalty to your friends, their secrets revealed… everyone believed you guilty for a reason…’
Sirius’ eyes were wide, fixed on the locket. The expression on his face wretched. He struggled with the sword, trying to lift it high enough and as he did so, the eyes within the locket gleamed red. A ghostly figure rose from within, skin pearly white and eyes gleaming, he looked just like Sirius, but slighter, hair shorter, younger. Sirius took a step back and dropped the sword which hit the floor with a loud clang.
‘How could you leave me?’ The figure cried, voice high and hollow, ‘Here, alone. In this house? I had no choice. I had no chance. How could you-’
There was a sudden sharp clang - the sound of metal on metal - followed by a high pitched scream which echoed around the kitchen, bouncing off the tiles. The figure vanished. As the noise receded, Remus found himself unstuck. He looked round for Sirius, finding him with his back against the window, both hands pressed over his ears. He looked to Dumbledore, who was also weaponless and staring down at the locket, an expression of sheer surprise on his face. Following Dumbledore's gaze, he saw Kreacher, his small hands still on the hilt of the sword which remained driven between the shattered pieces of locket, a large groove now carved in the table beneath it, the cloven wood now scorched and blackened. Dumbledore stepped forward, gently easing it from his grasp.
‘Master Regulus told Kreacher to destroy it,’ the elf whispered, an expression of pure shock on his face.
For several moments all three men stared down at him, speechless, and then-
‘You did as you were told,’ Sirius croaked, ‘You’re a good elf.’
*
‘Do you want some toast?’
‘Master Sirius should eat something.’
‘Something else? Cup of tea? Please Sirius-’
It had been days. Following the destruction of their second Horcrux, Dumbledore had gathered up the pieces of the shattered locket and departed, leaving Remus to clear up the rest of the mess it had left behind. Sirius had excused himself shakily and gone to bed, despite the fact that it was only mid-afternoon, and that was where he'd stayed.
Remus sighed and climbed onto the bed behind him, kissing the back of his head.
‘One more day,’ he said softly into his ear, ‘Then you've got to get up. Ok? Tomorrow morning I'm vanishing the bed.’
Sirius made a non-committal sound and closed his eyes. Remus squeezed him tight, once, and got up again, heading for the library. Perhaps quite predictably, the Blacks had no shortage of books about the life of Salazar Slytherin and after the last two Horcruxes, he had thought it worth seeing if there was anything else Voldemort might have taken a fancy to as a home for part of his soul. Kreacher, having finally been able to complete his Master’s final instruction, had become much more agreeable and had turned out to absolutely have the power to restore a mould-riddled book, so Remus also had Secrets of the Darkest Art to get through. He settled himself at the desk and began to read:
‘His deep interest in wandlore inspired the creation of his own, very unique wand, fashioned from Snakewood and Basilisk horn which he harvested from the Basilisk that he bred himself. The fate of the wand has been subject of much speculation over the centuries, however it is widely accepted that it made its way to America in the possession of Isolt Sayre, founder of Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where it was buried and grew into an indestructible Snakewood tree, supplying the school with medicinal ingredients for hundreds of years.’
‘So it’s not the wand…’ Remus muttered to himself, closing the book and reaching for another, ‘This snake obsession though - is all a bit much…’
His train of thought was interrupted by a tap at the window and he rose to open it, pulling the newspaper from the owl's talons and tucking two silver coins into its pouch. He unrolled it on the desk and was met by a full page photograph of Harry, or at least it would have been if the Harry in the image hadn't been trying so hard to exit the frame. Remus flipped open the newspaper, skimming the article and checked his watch - it was nearly lunchtime, it might be worth seeing if Harry wanted to talk. He climbed back up the stairs to the bedroom. The curtains were still drawn, but he found the mirror in the half-darkness and put his hand on the portion of Sirius' face that was visible above the covers.
‘I’m going to give Harry a try,’ he said softly, ‘There’s a new Skeeter article out.’ He placed the paper on the bedside table and left the room again, descending all the way to the kitchen and opening the mirror.
‘Harry?’ he said into it, ‘Harry? Are you there?’
There was a scrabbling noise and a flash of light before Harry’s face swam into view.
‘One sec,’ he said, disappearing and reappearing a moment later, ‘Sorry just getting out the corridor. Assume you've read the paper then?’
‘Yeah, just arrived,’ Remus said, sitting down at the table and propping the mirror in front of him, ‘How are you doing?’
‘I didn't say any of that stuff,’ Harry replied, ‘In the article - she made it all up.’
‘I know that, Harry,’ Remus said, ‘It wasn't even a convincing impression.’
‘Has Sirius seen it?’ Harry's cheeks reddened slightly, ‘All that stuff about Mum and Dad-’
‘He hasn't read it yet but when he does -’
Remus was cut off by the handle of the kitchen door turning. It swung open to reveal Sirius, unshowered and unshaven, holding up the newspaper.
‘What,’ he growled, ‘In Merlin's name, is this?’
‘Scratch that,’ Remus said, ‘He’s read it.’
They chatted to Harry for the rest of his lunch break, encouraging him to ignore the jibes of the other students. Sirius kept up the conversation, reassuring him that everyone knew Rita Skeeter articles were full of embellishment and invention and that they'd all forget about it sooner or later. If Harry had noticed anything awry about Sirius' appearance, he didn't show it, and he left the call considerably more cheerful than he had started it. Remus closed the mirror and looked across at Sirius.
‘You OK?’
Sirius nodded and swallowed. ‘I’m sorry Moons,’ he said, ‘I just - I just had to - stop for a bit.’
He shuffled along the bench and laid his head down on Remus’ shoulder.
‘I know. It was too much,’ Remus sighed, ‘will you let me know if you want to talk about it?’
‘I will,’ said Sirius, ‘But right now I am quite keen to channel all my rage into giving Rita Skeeter a piece of my mind.’
‘Could go back to Hogsmeade for a bit, keep an eye on her?’ Remus offered, ‘And I was wondering about -’ he hesitated looking down at his hands, ‘- about maybe trying a Full Moon, in the Forest just as us, no potion?’
Sirius looked up at him, eyes soft, ‘Sure, Moony. Sure.’
*
Had it always felt like this?
He was running, fast, leaves and branches were whipping at his fur as they moved through the green blur of trees. He could hear Padfoot behind him, his feet pounding against the cold earth, his panting breath. He slowed, looking round for his friend, letting the great shaggy dog catch up for a moment before setting off again, stretching his sinewy limbs, running, running, running. He could smell the pine needles, the moss, the rabbits that ran below the ground and the owls in the trees overhead. One hooted, somewhere far above them and Moony let out a long, loud howl, turning his nose upward towards the moon.
They continued on like that for hours, racing through the forest, the cool breeze rustling through their coats, until the sky began to lighten and the earliest of the birds began to sing. Remus opened his eyes slowly, moving his arm to shield them against the light. His back was damp and he could feel the cold of the ground as the heat of his transformation faded. He lay there for a moment, letting his eyes adjust, he felt so calm. He pushed himself up on his elbows and looked around. Sirius was standing a little way off to his left, his back turned, staring at something through the trees. He scrambled unsteadily to his feet, shivering slightly, and made his way towards him, reaching for the cloak that Sirius had folded over one arm.
‘Morning,’ Sirius murmured, inclining his head slightly, ‘OK?’
‘Yes,’ Remus replied, ‘Really OK actually, but chilly - have you got the rest of the clothes?’
‘They’re here,’ Sirius said, passing him a canvas bag, ‘Get them on, I want to go and see what it is they’re building over there.’
Remus took it from him, pulling on a pair of trousers as he peered through the foliage. Sirius was right - there was something happening at the edge of the forest, just beyond the treeline. He wrapped his cloak around him more tightly and they began to pick their way forward, carefully, quietly, emerging beside a large fenced enclosure that ran a long way back towards the castle. The wire fencing was reinforced with huge planks of wood and great iron poles rose out of the ground with thick chains attached.
‘What on earth?’ Sirius breathed, looking through a gap in the planks, ‘What do you think these are for?’
Remus shook his head. ‘I don’t know,’ he said, eyes running across the fencing to the gates, which were still propped against the wall, hinges unhung. ‘It doesn’t look like it’s quite finished yet.’
‘Mmm,’ Sirius sighed darkly, brow furrowed, ‘C’mon, let’s get you back to the room.’
*
‘That one over there?’
‘I’ll grab it. Blimey it is packed in here.’
‘Have you seen all these badges they’ve got on?’
Remus looked around - Sirius was right - many of the students that currently filled the tables of The Three Broomsticks were sporting large round badges spelling ‘Support Cedric Diggory’ in glowing red letters. He couldn’t see any saying ‘Support Harry Potter.’ They struggled through the crowd to the only spare table, Sirius nabbing an extra unattended stool.
‘Oh look, there they are - oh, well, some of them.’
Ron and Hermione appeared, each already carrying a drink and took their seats.
‘Hello!’ Hermione smiled, ‘It’s so busy!’
‘Yeah - Harry not with you?’ Sirius looked around them again, eyebrows raised.
‘I’m here.’
Remus looked to his left and caught a glimpse of sleeve - Harry presumably taking a sip of his own Butterbeer beneath the invisibility cloak.
‘What are you doing under there?’
‘He’s hiding,’ said Hermione.
‘I’m having a break!’ came Harry's voice, ‘From everyone looking at me. Just keep talking, you know where I am.’
‘Oh c’mon,’ said Sirius, ‘No one will bother you with us here. Anyone comes anywhere near I'll scare ‘em off,’ he bared his teeth comically and Harry chuckled.
‘Alright. I'll be back in a sec.’
The stool wobbled as he got up. Sirius waited a few seconds, raising his eyebrows at Remus.
‘Is he… doing ok?’ he asked the others.
Hermione looked at Ron, ‘Well -’ she began, but was cut off by Harry returning.
‘There he is!’ Sirius grinned, ‘That’s much better, now we can see your lovely face…’
Harry rolled his eyes and hunched low over his drink, sneaking a surreptitious glance over each shoulder. Remus looked over at Sirius, trying to communicate his concern silently, but he appeared to be distracted already - eyes narrowed towards the bar. Remus followed his gaze to a burly man, who was holding up a large camera, its long lens pointed their way.
‘Um -’
‘Well, well! Harry Potter, fancy seeing you here!’
Harry groaned without looking up at the tall blonde woman who was currently shimmying her way towards them. Sirius dragged his eyes away from the photographer, only to refocus them with even more displeasure at Rita Skeeter who was grinning vampirishly across the table, her red lipstick splitting her face in two.
‘And Sirius Black, no less,’ she leered, ‘I meant to write to you! To offer you an exclusive! I’ve just been so busy with the Tournament,’ she waved a hand vaguely in Harry’s face, ‘But now you’re here, I can see it now: ‘Sirius Black, Finally Free’,’ she held her hands up as if imagining the headline across the front page of The Prophet. ‘It would sell like hot cakes, I’m telling you - you’re still handsome -’
A low growl emanated from somewhere deep in Sirius’ throat and he stood abruptly. Remus braced himself, but Sirius said nothing, stepping neatly round the table and pushing past Rita who turned to watch with the rest of them as he strode towards the bar. He leant over it, speaking briefly to Madam Rosmerta, before reaching out with one hand, snatching the camera from the neck of the photographer. He extracted the film, slammed it down on the bar and with a tap of his wand set it aflame. It curled, slowly in the fire, a narrow plume of thick smoke rising from it. Turning his back on it, he returned to the table, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder and nodding genially to Rita Skeeter.
‘You can go now,’ he said, quite pleasantly, settling himself back in his seat and turning to talk to Ron, who gaped, openly at him, quite clearly not registering anything he was now saying.
‘Well, really,’ Rita huffed, ‘I was just offering an opportunity…’
‘And now we’re offering you one,’ said Harry savagely, ‘The opportunity to leave.’
Remus let out a laugh, before he could stop himself, slapping his hand over his mouth as Rita turned and marched from the pub, pulling the photographer with her.
‘That was -’ Harry began, eyes wide as he gazed across the table at his godfather.
‘Remarkably restrained,’ Remus supplied, smiling indulgently.
‘Yeah well,’ Sirius replied, ‘Knew you didn’t want people looking at you so- ‘
‘It didn’t quite work,’ said Ron, catching Harry’s eye and nodding subtly towards the door. Remus followed their gaze to where a group of girls were sitting, one in particular was very obviously watching them, glancing repeatedly over at Harry and smiling nervously. Remus recognised her from last year - Cho, he thought, a Ravenclaw.
‘A friend of yours Harry?’ he asked.
‘Er -’
‘Didn’t you say something about a dance coming up? Because of the Tournament?’ Sirius had caught on quickly, ‘You should ask her.’
‘Ooh yes you should,’ Hermione said, a mischievous look in her eyes.
‘What!?’ Harry looked so scandalised, Remus was glad he had managed to stifle his laugh. Oh to be fourteen again. He looked over at Sirius and wondered how panicked he'd have been in Harry's shoes.
‘Ignore them, Harry,’ Remus said, ‘You ask or don't ask whoever you like -’
‘That is terrible advice, Moony,’ Sirius chirped, ‘Do not listen to him Harry, trust me, he was terrible with the ladies -’
‘What do you know about the ladies?’ Remus asked incredulously.
‘More than you,’ Sirius winked at him.
‘Oh my god,’ Harry said, putting his hands over his ears.
‘Look, it’s Hagrid!’ said Hermione, drawing everyone’s attention back across the room.
The back of Hagrid’s head had emerged over the crowd and Remus craned his neck to see who he was talking to, spotting the grizzled grey hair of Alastor Moody. As they got up to leave, Hermione waved at them and they turned back, picking through the crowd to their table.
‘Alrigh’ you lot?’ Hagrid asked as they reached their table. He nodded to Sirius and Remus. ‘How's that bike treatin’ yer?’
‘She’s well,’ Sirius smiled.
‘That what you've been keeping busy with, is it?’ Moody grumbled, ‘Cavorting around on a motorbike?’
Sirius looked at him, his brow furrowed, ‘You know it isn't -’ he said, confused, glancing over to see if Remus was paying attention.
‘Nice ter see yeh anyway,’ Hagrid said, straightening up from where he had been crouched, speaking to Harry, ‘We’d best be getting back ter the castle.’
Moody nodded at them, taking a swig from his hip flask. They made their way to the door, squeezing past Madam Rosmerta who watched them go, an expression of deep disapproval on her face, and they made their way to the door.
‘Why does Hagrid want me to meet him at midnight?’ Harry asked no one in particular, his tone full of surprise.
‘Does he?’ said Hermione, looking startled. ‘I wonder what he’s up to? I don’t know whether you should go, Harry…’
‘Is that what he was saying to you just now?’ Remus asked. He’d been so distracted by Sirius’ interaction with Moody he hadn’t heard what had been said.
‘Yeah, he just said to meet at his house at midnight and to come alone. Do you think I could have the map back, Remus? You know, just to use… responsibly?’
Remus glanced at Sirius who was suppressing a smile.
‘Sure you can, it’s in my case, we can nip to the Hog’s Head and grab it before you head back.’
‘Make sure you use it,’ Sirius said thoughtfully, ‘And take your cloak and give us a call afterwards.’
*
It wasn’t until a little after midnight that night that Remus wondered if perhaps they shouldn’t have so readily condoned Harry’s nighttime wanderings. They had dropped in at the Hog’s Head and given him the map. Remus had seen the look on Sirius’ face when Harry had unfolded it: he had been seeing James, checking the path was clear for their latest prank. ‘Be careful’, he’d said, abruptly, not sure who he was speaking to and Sirius had given him a look. They had decided to stick around in Hogsmeade until the first task, which was only half a week away and were now, sitting beside each other on the bed, the mirror ready between them. Remus was supposed to be making progress with Secrets of the Darkest Art, but he kept finding himself at the bottom of each water-stained page having taken in nothing.
‘Moody really does seem to have lost it,’ Sirius was saying, ‘Or do you think Dumbledore just told him to supply us with that list and then forget all about it? Not ask any questions?’
‘I honestly don’t know,’ Remus sighed and closed his book, ‘Maybe that break in really shook him up -’
‘Sirius?’ came a voice, muffled slightly by the duvet.
Sirius flung aside the newspaper he had been reading and fumbled for the mirror, holding it up so they could both see Harry’s face. It was pale in the dark room that surrounded him. He looked tired, Remus thought.
‘Harry,’ Sirius said, ‘How did it go? What did he want?’
Harry looked at them for a moment and inhaled, his eyes looked desperate.
‘Dragons,’ he said, ‘The first task is dragons, Sirius, and I’m a goner.’
Remus glanced at Sirius, who was looking into the mirror, eyes filled with concern.
‘Dragons we can deal with, Harry. Start from the beginning, don’t leave anything out.’
And so Harry recounted the story of his evening - the walk down to Hagrid’s, the arrival of Madame Maxime, followed by what he had seen of all four dragons - the enclosures they’d come across the morning after the full moon now made sense - and of Karkaroff.
‘- and so now everyone will know, except Cedric,’ Harry said, ‘Which isn’t fair on him is it?’
‘None of this is fair on you either,’ Sirius countered, ‘Remember that. And remember the plan. We are not playing to win, we are just taking part.’
It was too dark to see properly, but Remus thought Harry had rolled his eyes.
‘I don’t think there is any chance of me forgetting that when I’m face to face with a dragon next week,’ he said stubbornly, ‘There were teams of handlers there keeping them under control, whole teams of them, how am I supposed to get past one?’
‘That’s definitely what Charlie said?’ Remus asked, thoughtfully, ‘You just have to get past them?’
‘Yeah, and that they were nesting mothers,’ Harry added.
‘Hmm,’ Remus mused, ‘They tend to be the biggest specimens, and the fiercest. The Welsh Green is the one you’d want, they don’t usually eat people.’
‘Don’t usually?!’ Harry exclaimed, ‘But the others do regularly?’
‘Well -’
‘How am I -’
‘It’s late,’ Sirius cut in, ‘Let us have a think about it, Harry. Dragons have weaknesses, just like everyone else. We’ll get back to you with some ideas and we’ll be at the task. Nothing will happen to you, I promise.’
Harry gave them a long loo and sighed.
‘You promise? Can you do that?’
‘I can and I do,’ Sirius said firmly, ‘Now off to bed please. Get some rest.’
They said their goodbyes and Sirius snapped the mirror shut, turning to Remus with a look of disbelief on his face.
‘Dragons?’ he said, ‘For fucks sake.’