None Applicable
The trio had been practicing their aim as hard as they could for weeks and their improvement was phenomenal.
It really helped that they were such quick learners. That coupled with their laser like focus on the task had even Hermione--who couldn’t practice at home--shooting spells with enough accuracy to rival any seventh year.
Even when they weren’t having official lessons with Sirius, they were always tiptoeing around the manor or Grimmauld Place and sneakily aiming spells at everything they could think of. Usually the spells were pretty innocuous such as turning things different colors or tipping things over on the highest shelves.
They would often have competitions to see who could get something in the trickiest place or from the furthest away. So far, Harry was in the lead after having turned Narcissa’s pink teacup purple from the staircase down the hall and across the Manor’s large foyer. Before that, Draco and Hermione were tied for each having taken a single candle from the chandelier in the formal dining room at Grimmauld Place.
Sirius had decided it was time to try something a bit trickier with them after he’d been woken up in his dog form by the trio laughing as they flipped his ears inside out from his cracked bedroom door.
It was finally the very last day of the summer break and Sirius had them gathered in the center of the hedge maze at Malfoy Manor.
“Now that you’ve all seem to have expert precision with your wands and I’m looking for a new excuse to get on Lucy’s nerves, the last lesson I want to give you before you return to Hogwarts is mastery of moving targets.”
Hermione glanced over to Dobby and Drilby standing beside Sirius. “You aren’t going to make us hit the house-elves, are you?” she asked, voice firm with disapproval.
“Of course not,” he scoffed at the idea. “That’s just cruel. Besides, I said I wanted to annoy Lucy. He’d probably be ecstatic if I tortured his poor elves.”
“Then, what will be our moving targets?” Harry asked cautiously.
Sirius waved a hand at Drilby and the elf scurried off through the hedge. A few moments later, an elegant white peacock waddled its way toward their group.
“No!” Draco gasped.
More and more peacocks entered their clearing until it looked like the entire ostentation was waddling around the fountain and dipping between sculptures, tables, and greenery. The mother and sons statue paused their water throwing to ooh and gawk at the intrusion.
“Sirius!” Hermione scolded. “That’s just as bad!”
“My Father is going to hear about this!” Draco warned.
“I certainly hope he does.” If Harry didn’t know any better, he’d say that Sirius was grinning, albeit evilly. “If he doesn’t, then that would just defeat the whole purpose, now wouldn’t it?”
Draco scoffed in outrage.
“Oh, relax!” Sirius waved his indignity away. “I’m not going to hurt them. We’re just going to turn them colors, is all.”
Harry looked at all the peacocks, taking in the sea of pristine white feathers that the Malfoy line had painstakingly bred for generations to achieve and maintain.
Lucius was going to be pissed…
Harry burst out laughing, sucking in great breaths and heaving deep guffaws. He laughed so hard he had to clutch his stomach as he attempted to breathe.
“This isn’t funny!” Draco yelled at him.
“It’s hilarious,” Sirius corrected, nodding with certainty.
“No, it is not!”
“It’s actually a little funny,” Hermione agreed, smiling sheepishly. Draco scoffed in outrage again.
“Can you just imagine… the look on his face?” Harry forced out between wheezes. “He’d throw a proper strop over it! I just know it! Merlin, I hope I’m here to see it!” He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.
Lucius was always a very well put together man. He was stoic and aloof at most times. Even in his more private moments, when he did show emotions, it was always rather subdued, as compared to someone who wore their feelings on their sleeve, such as Hagrid, or Uncle Vernon. The only exceptions being when Sirius was involved. He seemed to be an expert at provoking the man.
If his ire at the vases was amusing, then seeing Lucius toss away all of his composure in indignant fury over his peacocks would be legendary. Harry could already see him red-faced and screeching, stomping dramatically, like his son. Harry knew full well that Draco did not get his theatrics from his mother.
Even Draco began to smirk a little as he pictured it playing out. “Okay, fine! It might be a little funny!” he admitted.
When Harry finally caught his breath, Sirius set out the rules.
Each person got a color: green for Harry, blue for Draco, and yellow for Hermione. The House elves would keep track of the peacocks, making sure none of them escaped and herding them around the hedge maze.
Each person had the opportunity to hit the body of each bird once, leaving a large splotch where the color lands. Each body splotch was worth 1 point. Only two people could hit the neck. The first hit would turn the whole neck the appropriate color, worth 3 points. The second hit would show up as a splotch, worth 2 points. Only one person could hit the crest, but they would have to hit the plumes at the top directly to turn the whole crest the appropriate color. A crest was worth 5 points. Also, 5 points were each individual eyelet on a male peacock’s train. Each eyelet had to be hit directly, and only one person could get each one.
The eyelets, while easier to hit than the crest, were tricky because a person would have to get the peacock to display his tail feathers first before they could even see them.
They would play for an hour (or until Lucius noticed, whichever came first), and the person with the most points at the end would win. For an added level of fun, Sirius summoned three broomsticks from Draco’s toy shed. None of them were Nimbus 2000s, so the playing field was nice and even.
Playing “Peacocks”—as Sirius had dubbed it—was the most fun Harry had all summer.
It was more fun than just flying, or playing quidditch with too few players. It allowed him to be quick and calculating, exercising his brain, while playing off the physicality of riding a broom. It helped him practice his wandwork, and jogged his competitive nature all at once. It was just about the perfect game for him.
All too quickly, their hour was up and the trio was down to their last thirty seconds. There was one clever peacock that had managed to escape notice for the entirety of the game and was left pristine white. All three Slytherins noticed at the same time and at once took off after it.
They sped after it, neck and neck as the time ran down. Finally, the peacock made a wrong move and cornered itself in a dead-end. He span around, displaying his feathers defensively and screeching at them in warning.
Immediately, the trio began sending shot after shot at each of its eyelets. The shots didn’t hurt at all. They were about as strong as the force of air produced when whistling. The sensation was still rather annoying after so many strikes, so after a few hits from each, the peacock launched into the air, screaming and pecking at the trio as he made a daring escape.
He nearly knocked Draco from his broom, but Hermione and Harry were able to dodge out of the way quickly enough.
Hermione sent one last shot at it, getting him on the body before he began his descent back into the hedge maze. Then time was up.
“I did not know peacocks could fly,” Harry huffed in surprise as they headed back to the center of the maze.
“Yup,” Hermione agreed. “They can fly, but due to their heavy bodies they can’t go far distances.”
“These ones don’t do it much,” Draco added. “When they do, it’s more like gliding than actual flight. They’re too spoiled here to ever want to go very far.”
“Don’t think they can say that anymore!” Harry chuckled. He pointed to a group of four of them being herded toward the clearing by Dobby. They were such a random mix of colors that they looked like they were colored in by a toddler.
When the trio made it back to the clearing, Sirius was putting silencing charms on all of the peacocks to quiet their disgruntled screaming.
Harry, Hermione, and Draco couldn’t stop giggling as they took in the poor creatures, each one looking sillier than the last.
Finally, one came in that had a green crest, but was otherwise covered in red, every eyelet included.
“Wait,” Draco asked. “Who was red?”
Sirius shrugged. “I got bored…”
That just made the Slytherins laugh even more.
It took everyone’s help, including the house elves and minimal cheating and recounting to come down to the final tallies. Draco and Harry were tied at 300 each, and Hermione just barely won at 301.
“Ha!” Hermione cheered, smiling from ear to ear. “It was that last hit, right before the timer that put me over.”
“I demand a recount!” Draco teased playfully.
“Recount? I want a rematch!” Harry chuckled. “This was so much fun!”
“It really was!” Hermione agreed. “This should be an actual sport!”
“We should pitch it to the Headmistress!”
Draco laughed. “Can you imagine? They can grow a maze on the bottom of the quidditch pitch. It’s not like anyone really touches the ground anyways.”
Harry nodded. “They could do it in teams, and all four house teams could play at once. We wouldn’t need to make a tournament or anything out of it. We could just play for bragging rights.”
“Bragging rights?” Draco scoffed. “You mad? That’s Hufflepuff talk. No, there’s definitely going to be a tournament. Trophies and all. How else are we going to remind everyone that we’re better than them?”
“Trophies, shmophies,” Sirius cut in. “What you want is prize money. That’s where it’s really at. Make the students take bets. Whoever wins the pot splits half with the winning team.”
“Gambling? At school?” Hermione mock scolded, pretending to be offended. “Well! I never…”
Unfortunately, Harry never did get the chance to see Lucius’ reaction to his ostentation’s new look. Though he was later informed that it was PHENOMENAL. There may or may not have been rattling windows at the indignant screams of the man.
Narcissa, Sirius, and the trio flooed back over to Grimmauld Place early in the morning so they could have breakfast with Aunt Wally and Uncle Arty before they left for the train.
Sirius only agreed to accompany them until they got to King’s Cross. Platform 9 ¾ would undoubtedly be bustling with people, and Sirius was still pretty skittish with crowds. There was around a thousand students that attended Hogwarts. And, on average, every three of them had at least one parent accompanying them. That was far too many people.
All three of the second years gave him a big hug and bid him farewell before crossing onto the platform with Narcissa. Harry lingered behind for just a little bit longer.
“Do you think you’re going to be alright at Grimmauld Place, alone with your mother for the whole school term?” he cautiously asked Sirius.
Sirius gave him that Barely There smile. “I’ll be fine.” Somehow, Harry didn’t really believe him.
He was a bit pale and sweaty. It was probably just his anxiety from the crowd at King’s Cross. It was much larger and far more open than the single long platform and so the crowd was thinner. But it was still quite busy with at least as many people milling about.
“Are you sure?” Harry pressed.
“Actually, I was thinking I might spend some time at my Uncle’s home.”
“Not by yourself?” That actually sounded like an awful idea to Harry. He couldn’t imagine the man getting lost in his head like he did with no one to pull him out of it. He might sit there for days and starve!
“Not for very long,” Sirius assured him. “Just when my mother becomes too much to handle.” Harry didn’t look comforted. “Besides, that house is in the middle of an all wizarding neighborhood. And it doesn’t have all the spells on it to keep it hidden. It’s not secluded like Grimmauld Place. So I’ll have neighbors I can talk to and other people around. Not to mention, I don’t think anyone’s been in it for around twenty years. I’m sure it’s in a right state of disarray. It’ll give me something to do, fixing it up. Instead of sitting around and thinking of people who are long gone. Perhaps, I could turn it into a proper home.”
That made Harry feel a little better. But not much.
“AND,” Sirius added, sensing Harry’s hesitation, “it’s actually the home my mother grew up in. So if she was really persistent, she could always just come and pester me there.”
Harry really didn’t like the idea of him spending too much time alone. He needed someone he could talk to.
“What about your friend? The one you’ve been trying to contact. Have they ever replied to you?”
Harry immediately regretted asking because for a brief moment Sirius looked absolutely crestfallen. He looked as if he may actually cry, which Harry had never seen him do and was almost horrified to think of. He wanted to punch himself.
Instead of crying, Sirius took a deep breath and gave a few quiet, mirthless chuckles. “Actually no.” His face quickly returned to that usual stoic, blank expression that Harry hated. “To be honest, I’m starting to think that he may have died. Or perhaps he’s ignoring me. I’m not entirely sure which one would be worse. Either way, I don’t think I’ll be getting a response from him anytime soon.”
“Well,” Harry was even more worried than ever. “You’ve got to have someone to talk to.” He thought about it for a moment. “Perhaps... a Mind Healer?” he suggested gently.
Sirius frowned for a moment, not having expected the suggestion, but he was clearly considering it. “Actually, that might be a really good idea. But, listen!” He wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulder and pulled him into another hug. “Don’t worry about me. I’m the Godfather, remember? I’ll be alright.” Harry melted into the embrace and basked in that familiar sandalwood scent. He was immediately comforted. “I’ll be writing you so many letters that I won’t have the chance to get lonely, anyways.” He let him go. “Now, go!” he shooed him away, playfully. “Get on the train! Go learn and have fun. Worry about kids things. Like the feast tonight, or how you’re going to be smacking Draco and Hermione in the face all year with that ridiculous quill Greengrass gave you.”
Harry laughed at that. “I actually like that quill, thank you very much.”
Sirius genuinely smiled for the first time that morning. “Oh, I’ll bet you do. You’re exactly as extravagant and absurd as your father. He’d be smacking people with that thing on purpose. Luckily, you’ve got your mum’s brains to even you out. Now, go on!”
Still grinning, Harry finally headed toward the entryway to Platform 9 ¾. “See you at the holidays!” he called over his shoulder.
He was really going to miss Sirius. He had such a fun summer, but was eager to get back to Hogwarts as well. With the new headmistress and the upcoming changes, he had no idea what was in store for him. He just knew that he was excited.