Chapter 12 Out take
Sirius
Sometimes Sirius lost time. He’d been out of prison since the middle of summer. In that time he’d been home and retrieved his father’s wand from the crypt his mother had called home. The ash wand didn’t work well with him but at least he had something to use while he hunted Peter down.
Grimmauld Place had been just as dark and twice as fusty as he remembered. He’d had to dodge the house elf Reg had been so fond of. Sirius had tried to grab a change of clothes too, but the elf had heard him and ventured up the stairs. Sirius had climbed out a window and apparated from the balcony of the Muggle neighbour’s flat thanking all the gods that he didn’t splinch himself.
He’d been able to glamour himself a bit then, even though the wand fought him. He'd transfigured what he could of his prison togs, not well, mind you, they'd still been suspiciously large and carried a faint set of stripes, but he’d been able to ease into Little Whinging and locate the Muggles Harry lived with. In that time he'd wasted days in a fugue state, unable to stir himself out of the shed he'd established as his base in the Muggle world. When he'd finally ventured out, he’d found out that he was too late. The boy had been seized by the Ministry and kept someplace, Sirius wasn’t sure where. It had taken him weeks to find the boy living at Hogwarts. Sirius had breathed a sigh of relief. The Weasley boy wasn’t there, so Sirius could take some time to lick his psychic wounds, and get some much needed rest.
He’d settled into a small cave in one of the hills that Hogwarts was built into. He'd known about it from his school days. He’d thought about staying in the Forbidden Forest, but remembered one too many close calls there as Padfoot, and giant spiders weren’t his idea of a good housemate.
To pass the time and keep his sanity, just as he did in Azkaban, he chose to live as Padfoot. He went out at least half a day to hunt, carefully bringing the rabbits and grouse that he caught back to his dwelling so he could make a small fire in the light of the long dusk that settled over the hills. He also stole vegetables from local gardens. That was a bit more risky. He’d nearly been caught a couple of times, but had run away with his prize, a tomato plant that had broken off at the root, and quite a big bush of red potatoes. He’d lost some of them from the run, but he’d been able to plant the bush back in the soil and it had seemed to recover. He’d at least have potatoes for a while. He’s also tried planting a tomato, but the seeds produced sickly plants that produced only tiny fruits.
During that time he’d finally set eyes on James’ son. Harry had grown up, but it didn’t appear he’d been taken care of well. He was a skinny child, not cadaverous, but just. His clothes were puzzling. They appeared more rag than anything to wear. He observed that Harry wore enormous trousers with a belt that was obviously too big for him. His shirt was a roadmap of stains and tears, and the boy’s shoes were too big. Harry kept stumbling over them when he was out with the blond boy and the little dog.
If Sirius ever was cleared of the charges for which he’d been incarcerated, he would take Harry far away from his family in the summer. He’d make sure that the boy was cared for like James Potter’s son should be.
When September first came around, Sirius had been at the Hogsmeade depot waiting to see if Pettigrew was with the Weasley boy. He’d lain under the bench, acting like any other stray dog that had come begging for scraps. When Snivellous arrived, Sirius had the urge to bite him, it was almost uncontrollable. He still couldn’t believe that Dumbledore could be duped as it was obvious that Snape had done.
Snivellous was in a high dudgeon, no doubt because Albus made him wash this month for classes to start. Padfoot made a small chuffing laugh, more a heavy pant than a noise.
Students came boiling out of the train, none of them his targets. There were a confusing number of Weasleys to be sure, but not one of them was carrying Peter. Padfoot stretched, his butt in the air and his tail curling. He looked over to Snivellous, who was now pacing the small area between the posts that served to mark the barrier between the station and the town. Children slunk around him, not meeting his eyes. When Padfoot looked back at the train, he saw Harry’s friend from the summer and two girls, one large with an impressive set of arms, and yet another Weasley. Those people just didn’t know when to quit…
Finally, at the back of the third car, Harry emerged with two friends. The plain, frizzy-haired girl carried a cat in a basket type cage. The Weasley boy had his hands full of candies and a small cage. Sirius got up, stretched, and trotted forward while the three children were completely focussed on Snivellous. He passed near enough that he could smell Pettigrew if the child still possessed him.
Pettigrew’s scent was unmistakable and the boy reeked of him. Padfoot took a chance and walked closer to the boy, peering into the carrier. If the traitor was in there, Sirius would just grab the cage and force the traitor to confess.
Things could never be easy for Sirius though, could they? No, he heard Pettigrew squeal loudly as the rat peeked from the back of the boy’s red hair.
His curse words at seeing the traitor came out as a long, low growl. The children walked towards Snivellous who stopped Harry while he waved on the other two. Padfoot retreated to the shadows near the ticket booth, his sight line clear so that he could intervene if the evil git pulled something.
Snivellous made Harry lift his head and he peered into the boy’s eyes, saying little, but it was obvious the man was concerned. Puzzling. He was more than a little surprised that Snape would care about the welfare of James’ son. Just then Mooney appeared. He looked old, tired, and beaten. He’d gone grey at the temples and his clothes looked like a slightly better kept version of Harry’s. Sirius watched as Lupin stepped forward, talking to Snivellous as the greasy git snarked back at him. Snivellous moved his body between Harry and Mooney, keeping his hand on Harry, who didn’t seem to mind the git touching him.
Padfoot felt a growl roll up his throat that stopped as he saw Mooney looking quizzically at the shadows where he sat . With a small whine, Padfoot retreated. If Mooney figured out he was here, he’d not be able to get justice for James, Lily, and little Harry.