Christmas 1994 Part II
‘Wait - what? No!’
‘Checkmate,’ Dora said, grinning triumphantly as Harry stared aghast at his mutilated King.
‘How did you -’
‘You’ve got to be sharper than that to play one of us, Harry,’ Sirius chuckled, ruffling his hair as he bent over to examine the board, ‘We Blacks are known for our ruthlessness.’
‘Erm, I'm a Tonks, thanks very much,’ Dora said quickly, ‘Rematch Harry?’
‘No way!’ Harry laughed, turning in his chair and looking around for Andy, ‘Is there any more cake?’
They'd arrived at Andy’s early afternoon for Boxing Day lunch and were now lazing around in the living room, Andromeda occasionally trying to persuade them they could manage some more of the veritable feast she'd prepared. Remus had been stretched out on the sofa, head comfortably in Sirius' lap and might've fallen asleep if he hadn't been so rudely dislodged in favour of a chess debrief. Sirius had been beside himself with excitement all morning, despite their late night at the ball, thrilled at the prospect of introducing his godson to his cousins and had been thoroughly enjoying himself all afternoon.
Remus watched them, comfortable again propped up on cushions. Sirius was at the table now, insisting on cutting Harry an enormous slice of Christmas cake, fussing over the icing stuck to the knife. Harry had swapped seats with Ted, who was less intimidated by Dora’s chess prowess and was now settled in a soft armchair by the fire, extra cosy in a green jumper with a dragon knitted into the front of it. He had a Quidditch annual open on his lap but he wasn't looking at it - his eyes were closed, his head back against the chair, a small smile on his face. He looked so peaceful.
‘Pads,’ Remus said quietly, as Sirius turned from the table, plate in hand, ‘Maybe we should wrap that up for tomorrow? Get him home?’
*
‘Is Harry still in the bathroom?’ Remus asked, as Sirius appeared at the kitchen door, looking dishevelled.
‘Yeah. Can't you hear the shrieking? What on earth is he doing in there anyway?’’
‘Working on his Tournament clue. Cedric told him a bath would help him work it out. He’s determined to do it himself,’ Remus shrugged, ‘Isn’t there another bathroom on the top floor?’
‘I’m not going in there,’ Sirius grumbled, ‘Still needs decontaminating. Something would probably come out the plug hole and murder me.’
‘Mm -’ Remus hummed, turning the page of his newspaper and starting to scan the next column. Suddenly, there was a piercing wail, followed by a loud crash.
‘Ow!’
‘Uh oh -’
‘Sod this,’ Sirius said, ‘I need a piss.’
They ascended the stairs to the first floor and Sirius knocked sharply on the bathroom door.
‘You ok in there, Harry?’ he called, ‘Can we take a pause on the egg so the rest of us can use the bathroom?’
The lock slid back and Harry opened the door, fully dressed but sopping wet, behind him Remus could see rather a lot of water on the floor.
‘Sorry -’ Harry began, as Sirius pushed past him and closed the door, ‘- I really don't know what Cedric was on about - it's still just screaming in the bathroom…’
They heard the sound of the toilet flushing and Sirius reappeared.
‘Ok,’ he breathed a sigh of relief, ‘It’s all yours again - bathe away.’
Harry huffed and turned back to the bathroom, looking down at the egg that was still dripping on the bath mat.
‘Have you tried actually opening it in the water?’ Remus asked.
‘Yeah, it just sends up a load of bubbles - look -’
Harry plunged the egg into the overfull tub and opened it. A thick gurgling sound filled the bathroom, accompanied by a flurry of enormous bubbles.
‘See -’ Harry started.
‘Put your head in,’ Remus cut him off ‘- or your ear. So you can hear what it's saying.’
Harry looked at him, brow furrowed, and glanced at Sirius before lowering his ear carefully towards the water. As soon as it broke the surface his expression changed.
‘Oh!’ he said, ‘Oh! Ok. Can you get a pen?’
It had only taken a couple of listens to get the full song written down. Sirius had syphoned the large amount of escaped water back into the bath with a wave of his wand, and they'd returned to the kitchen for a cup of tea and a bacon sandwich.
‘Ok, so the merpeople bit is obvious,’ Sirius was saying, mouth full.
‘Merpeople?’ Harry exclaimed, ‘Where?’
‘In the -’
‘Shh, let him work it out,’ Remus said, ‘Go on Harry. Sirius has given that bit away now but you do the rest.’
Sirius rolled his eyes as he sat back in his chair, but nodded encouragingly when Harry looked up at him.
‘Merpeople,’ Harry mused, ‘must be… in the lake! Wait, really? Merpeople?’
‘Yes?’ said Sirius, visibly thrown by Harry's amazement, ‘Where else -’
‘Wow. Cool. But - hang on - what are they going to take? And how am I supposed to retrieve it from the lake?! Can I just summon it again?,’ Harry’s brow furrowed again, ‘No, Dumbledore will have thought of that… I don't really know how to swim, the Dursley’s never -’
‘Harry! Stop. It's ok. You've got two months to work it out,’ Remus said, trying to keep his voice level, soothing.
‘And you’ve got us,’ said Sirius, ‘There are loads of ways to breathe underwater. This is going to be no problem.’
Harry looked up at them, his expression unsure but hopeful.
‘Can you teach me to swim too?’
‘Padfoot,’ Sirius began, a smug look on his face, ‘Is a fantastic swimmer.’
*
‘Oh my god it's freezing!’
They had apparated to Pwll Du early the next morning, risking landing closer to the beach than they had in the summer, reasoning that it was likely to be deserted in late December. It was indeed very cold, but the sun was shining and they had come well prepared - Remus and Harry already clad in wetsuits, warming charms already cast.
‘Come on, it's bracing.’ Sirius rubbed his hands together unconvincingly, ‘The charm will keep you warm enough, and the sea is lovely and calm - beautiful conditions!’
‘Does Padfoot want a warming charm?’ Remus asked, eyebrows raised, ‘Or is he looking for bracing?’
Sirius didn't reply, and with a sudden splash, there Padfoot was, bounding around in the shallows, a doggy grin on his face.
‘Ok Harry,’ Remus sighed, shaking his head at the dog, ‘Let’s get you in, we'll do a bit of floating first.’
They walked a little way out into the water, Remus grateful for his surf shoes as the sand gave way to pebbles. Padfoot paddled around them, nosing at their legs as they waded deeper into the sea.
‘Right, this seems about OK,’ Remus said, stopping at waist height, ‘So, first of all I want you to just lie back, let your head hit the water, that's it, and then just be still. Float.’
Harry let Remus guide his head back into the water, and lay there still, floating on the gentle waves as Padfoot paddled in a wide circle around them.
‘Good, good, that's it,’ Remus said encouragingly. ‘And now, I want you to just try kicking your legs just a little bit, just see if you can propel yourself around a little.’
Harry followed his instructions, tentatively kicking his feet and then wiggling his legs slightly. He began to move, Remus wading alongside him, but then -
‘Eurgh -’ Harry spluttered, rolling in the water and flailing for some kind of purchase.
Remus grabbed his forearm, pulling him upright while he found his feet.
‘This is going to be impossible.’
‘That was really good for a first try!’ Remus insisted.
‘We proved you wrong about the dancing, didn't we?’ said Sirius, now a man again, wading back towards them as he zipped up his wetsuit, ‘C’mon, let's try again.’
*
‘You really aren't doing badly, you know,’ Remus said an hour later as they huddled on the sand under towels. He dug around in his bag, retrieving his wand and a Thermos flask, and hurriedly poured out three cups.
‘Here you go - hot chocolate - with a little bit extra to warm you back up.’
He cast a warming charm as Harry and Sirius sipped their drinks, their hair drying instantly on their heads.
‘There’s no way I'm good enough to swim to the bottom of the lake and back though,’ Harry said, glumly.
‘You’ve got the basics,’ Remus replied, ‘And there's always magic. We've just got to find the right spell.’
‘You could get in a lot of practice before the end of February too,’ Sirius mused, ‘What about the Prefect’s bathroom? The tub in there's the size of a pool -’
‘You were a prefect?’ Harry asked.
‘You don't have to look quite so surprised,’ said Sirius, huffing, ‘But no, obviously I wasn't. Moony was. Was it the fourth floor?’
‘Fifth,’ Harry and Remus said in unison. Sirius looked up, surprised.
‘Cedric mentioned it,’ Harry explained, a hint of bitterness in his voice, ‘Told me the password. Guess I'll have to take him up on it.’
‘There’s no shame in it, you know,’ Remus said sternly, ‘You helped him last time, and you're at a distinct disadvantage -’
‘And we're not engaging with this competition, remember,’ Sirius cut in, ‘We're just trying to survive -’
‘Do you think we could go and say Happy Christmas to Mum and Dad?’ Harry said, abruptly, silencing them so suddenly that Sirius inhaled a mouthful of tea, eyes watering as he tried to clear his throat. He glanced nervously at Remus who shrugged. They had said -
‘You said we could go back whenever I wanted,’ Harry continued, ‘And I just thought, since we’re here, it's not far to apparate, .and it’s Christmas -’
He looked up at them, his eyes round and Remus realised he was nodding.
‘Sure, sure,’ Sirius said, Harry's expression seemingly having the same effect on him, ‘Let's get dried off and dressed and then we can head over there. It's not lunchtime yet - we could grab something to eat too.’
They arrived a little over half an hour later, their swimming things packed neatly away in Sirius’ rucksack. They apparated straight to the church gate this time, and let Harry lead them through it, down between the rows of carved stone. It was a different place to the one they had visited in the summer: no snow, but the grass was thick with frost and boggy in places, mud coating their trainers. Despite the fact it was barely lunchtime, the sun was low, casting long shadows across their path and Remus felt Sirius shiver beside him.
‘You ok?’ he whispered, reaching for his hand.
‘Yeah, fine. Just cold,’ Sirius replied, not meeting his eye.
They continued, feet crunching on the frozen ground. Harry was now crouched at the foot of a grave, clearing fallen leaves from the space in front of him. He was saying something, too soft for them to hear, and Remus stopped, a little way back, pulling Sirius in beside him to wait until Harry was ready. He felt Sirius' fingers tighten around his own and he reached across himself to grasp Sirius' arm with his other hand. After a few moments, Harry looked back, searching for them, meeting their eyes and nodding.
‘Alright?’ Remus asked, momentarily prevented from stepping forward by Sirius' grip on his hand. He released him and moved to stand beside Harry.
‘Yeah,’ Harry said, not elaborating.
‘You want to get some lunch? There's a pub just off the square.’ Remus glanced back at Sirius, who blinked at him and then nodded slowly.
‘Sure,’ Harry said, shivering suddenly, ‘C’mon, it's freezing.’
They wandered back between the graves and up the little path to the gate, which creaked with cold as they passed through it, and along the lane towards the village square. Too late Remus remembered -
‘Oh, Harry, before -’
‘What’s that?’
As they had turned the corner, the obelisk in the centre of the square had transformed, revealing the statue Remus and Sirius had first seen that summer. Sirius stopped abruptly, but Harry moved forward more quickly towards the three figures, the frozen stone glinting in the pale sunlight. Remus hesitated between them for a moment, turning back to Sirius, whose eyes were fixed on the statue, and then towards Harry who was almost at its base. He looked back to Sirius once more and made his decision, hurrying after Harry.
‘Harry -’ he said, breathlessly as he caught up, ‘- sorry, I should have said -’
‘It’s them,’ Harry breathed, climbing onto the stone plinth, his knees slipping slightly on the icy surface, ‘It’s us.’
He pulled himself up, hand around his father's ankle, and then waist as he stood, balancing on foot of the statue, standing face to face with his parents. Remus glanced nervously around them: the square was quiet, but lined with buildings; cottages, the pub. On close enough inspection, another wizard might recognise Harry’s intentions, but a Muggle would surely object to a teenage boy climbing a war memorial.
‘Harry, I -’ Remus held up his hands, ‘It’s slippery.’
Harry didn't seem to have heard him, he had shuffled sideways, holding onto his mother's forearm, the one that was wrapped around the stone baby. Remus watched as he reached his other hand up, cupping her cheek.
‘They look just like the photographs,’ he whispered, ‘But the stone is so - it’s cold -’
‘Harry-’ Remus began, following him on the ground, arms outstretched now, worried he might fall.
‘Harry.’
Remus looked up. Sirius had unstuck himself and appeared beside him so silently he hadn't noticed his approach. He looked utterly calm, his face smooth and blank.
‘Harry,’ Sirius repeated, softly, ‘Time to come down now.’
He moved forward, reaching up and tapping Harry’s elbow, and then gripping his hand as the boy turned back towards them.
‘Careful there now,’ Sirius said, guiding him down from the plinth. Harry jumped the last couple of feet, landing heavily in front of them.
‘I didn’t know -’
‘We should have told you,’ Sirius said, voice steady, ‘We saw it in the summer, it was a bit of a surprise for us too, but we should have said -’
He was silenced by Harry, who stepped forward and gripped him in a tight hug. Sirius slowly wrapped his arms around him, one on his shoulders, the other on the back of his head, holding him as he buried his face in his godfather's shoulder.
‘I know,’ Sirius murmured, throat thick, ‘It’s OK, I know. Come on now, let’s get you inside, get you warmed up.’
Remus followed as Sirius guided Harry across the small square towards the pub, its windows glowing with yellow light. It was quiet when they entered, most of the village still at home, entrenched in the sleepy days that occur between Christmas and New Year, but there were a few patrons scattered across the mismatched tables. Remus headed for the bar, leaving Sirius to usher Harry into a booth by the window.
‘Two pints please, and a coke,’ he said, ‘Are you doing food?’
The Muggle barman passed him a battered menu and he glanced down at it while the drinks were poured.
‘Yes, could we just have three of the toasties, please? Cheese and ham. We’re over there by the window.’
He paid, and turned, gripping the three glasses slightly awkwardly in his cold hands. Sirius and Harry were sitting opposite each other, either side of the booth. Sirius was looking at Harry, examining his face intently. Harry was staring down at his hands in his lap. Remus sighed, Merlin, they were so unprepared for all of this.
‘Here we go,’ he said, as brightly as he could as he returned to the table. He slid in beside Harry and passed out the drinks. ‘Sandwiches are coming.’
‘This is a Muggle pub?’ Harry said, looking up at the television above the bar, ‘I thought this was a Wizarding village.’
‘Not solely,’ Remus said, ‘A lot of wizards do live here - the history of the place is appealing I guess, but Hogsmeade is the only entirely non-Muggle settlement in Britain -’
He was interrupted by the barman, who came bearing three plates, piled high with toasties and salad. He laid them on the table and nodded as they thanked him.
‘Wow, I'm hungry,’ Harry said, suddenly, ‘I hadn't realised -’
‘Well eat up then,’ Sirius said, taking an enthusiastic bite of his own sandwich.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, Harry looking up at the TV which was showing some kind of Christmas game show. Remus watched Sirius as he watched Harry, a deep crease between his brows. He tried to think of something to say. Something that wasn't about murdered parents, of life threatening tournaments, or escaped ex-friends.
‘I wonder -’ he began, but was interrupted for a second time -
‘My word, Sirius Black! Is that you?’
Remus looked up. Was that -?
‘Professor,’ Sirius coughed slightly, clearing his throat and giving the old man a strained smile.
‘My boy! How long has it been? It must be - what? Fifteen years?’ the old man shuffled onto the bench beside Sirius, looking him up and down, ‘Of course you were - away - nasty business all that. I always thought, Sirius Black in Azkaban, such a waste -’
He paused, grinning broadly at Sirius, before looking across the table for the first time, his watery eyes sliding across Remus and coming to rest on -
‘Merlin’s beard,’ he breathed, ‘Harry Potter -’
Harry half-nodded, awkwardly as the man reached across the table and seized his hands, shaking them vigorously.
‘Allow me to introduce myself,’ he said, eyes scanning Harry’s hairline, ‘Horace Slughorn, so pleased to meet you. I knew your parents - perhaps Sirius has told you -’
Slughorn looked enquiringly at Sirius, and then again at Harry who shook his head.
‘You look very like your father.’
‘Yeah, I’ve been told,’ said Harry.
‘Except for your eyes. You’ve got-’
‘My mother’s eyes, yeah,’ Harry finished for him, rolling said eyes. Remus held his breath, swallowing a laugh.
‘Hmpf. Yes, well,’ Slughorn puffed out his ample chest, ‘You shouldn’t have favourites as a teacher, of course, but she was one of mine. Your mother. One of the brightest I ever taught. Vivacious, you know. Charming girl. I used to tell her she ought to have been in my House. Very cheeky answers I used to get back too.’
He paused, a faraway look in his eyes for just a moment, before they refocused, back on Harry’s forehead.
‘Such a shame,’ he muttered, almost to himself.
‘So you used to teach?’ Harry asked, ‘At Hogwarts?’
‘Oh yes my boy, for half a century, at least. Nurturing future potioneers. Your mother was a natural, she could have made a career out of it, and Sirius of course, such a talented boy, but so naughty. Now your brother, he was gifted at potions-’
‘Do you come here often, Professor?’ Remus asked, glancing at Sirius who had gone stiff in his seat. Slughorn turned to look at Remus, furrowing his bushy brows slightly as he examined him.
‘On occasion,’ he said, shaking his head slightly and turning back to Sirius, ‘I’ve been staying with an old friend of mine, you might have heard of her - Bathilda - very well known author you know - just meeting her for a little tipple, it is Christmas after all,’ he chuckled indulgently, nudging Sirius with his elbow.
‘Bagshot?’ Remus asked.
‘The very same,’ Slughorn smiled smugly, ‘Such a talented writer, old Bathilda, and such a fantastic host. She’s running a little late though it seems,’ he glanced around the pub, eyes settling on Remus again, ‘I’ll take a sherry if you don't mind?’
‘Erm -’ Remus said, ‘OK - you want another coke Harry?’
Harry shook his head and Remus made his way to the bar. Horace Slughorn, Merlin, he was a blast from the past. Remus tried to remember when he'd last seen him, probably not since school. He didn't seem to have changed though - he'd always been like a moth to the flame of the talented, famous or pure-blooded. He must have retired just after they'd left though - how long had Severus had the job? Remus wondered what he'd been doing with his retirement. The barman slid a small glass across the bar and Remus carried it back to the table.
‘- brings you here on such a chilly afternoon?’ Slughorn was asking as Remus placed his sherry down in front of him and slid back into his seat, ‘The Seven Swans does do an excellent toastie, I should know,’ he patted his round stomach, ‘But surely not enough to pull you all the way over from London? Are you still in London, Sirius? At the family home?’
‘We’ve been to pay our respects,’ Remus answered, mildly, attempting to draw Slughorn’s attention away from Harry and Sirius who were both struggling to keep their expressions polite.
‘Ah, of course,’ Slughorn clasped his hands together on the table, face grave, ‘Such a nasty business, all that. Terrible misfortune -’
‘It wasn't misfortune,’ Harry said, eyes narrowing, ‘It was murder. They were murdered, by Voldemort.’
Slughorn choked slightly on the sip of sherry he'd taken, his chins wobbling as he struggled to swallow. He glanced at Sirius, who looked equally aggrieved and then around the room with a slight air of desperation. Remus thought he saw a bead of sweat forming on his brow.
‘Ah! Here she is!’ Slughorn struggled awkwardly to his feet as an ancient old witch entered the pub, her hunched figure hobbling slowly towards the bar. ‘Bathilda!’ he called loudly, ‘She’s a little deaf you know, Bathilda! Nevermind, I'll have to go to her. Lovely to see you again, Sirius, and lovely to meet you two.’
‘Wow,’ said Remus, ‘I sat behind you in potions for what? Five years? Although, to be fair, don't think he knew my name then either.’
‘That was your potions teacher?’ Harry asked, tone incredulous.
‘Yeah,’ Sirius said, looking across the bar to where Slughorn now sat with his elderly companion. He seemed to be doing most of the talking.
‘Blimey,’ Harry said, ‘What is it with potions teachers?’
Sirius snorted.
‘You’ll have to ask Professor Dumbledore.’
*
On the morning of January 1st, Harry was packed and ready for school, with a bag full of Christmas presents and a notebook full of spells to practise for the second task. He had almost mastered the Bubble-Head charm, but whether he was going to be able to sustain it for a whole hour remained to be seen.
‘You behave yourself now,’ Sirius said, clapping Harry on the shoulder as they approached the school gates, ‘And stay in touch.’
‘Obviously I will,’ Harry said, rolling his eyes, but smiling.
‘OK, off you go.’
They watched as Harry made his way up the drive, jogging to catch up with a friend he had seen ahead of him.
‘Home?’ Remus asked, reaching for Sirius’ hand.
‘Home.’