Chapter 7
3rd November, 1981
2.41pm
Azkaban, Sirius thought, had rather worse accommodations than he’d expected. Sure, there was the sea view, but the customer service was frankly appalling. Small, grey room, rather loud neighbours, really shit catering, and a constant feeling of cold emptiness in the pit of his stomach. Also, the Hell Memory thing. Not the best. He'd asked to see the manager, but he kept getting told to piss off.
“390.”
Sirius looked up to see a bored-looking guard standing in the doorway. “Are you the turn-down service?”
“Good God, you're annoying.” He stood up and was poked in the back by another guard.
“We going on a walking tour of the place? Show me the spa, will you? I fancy a massage.”
“Shut up,” said the other guard, who apparently had even less of a sense of humour than the first guard.
“Seriously, where are we going? I was imprisoned without trial.”
“You have…a very annoying friend. Even more annoying than you,” said the first guard. What?
“Doubt that,” said Sirius. “You want me to try harder?”
“Please God no.”
3rd November, 1981
3.00pm
Sirius was slumped against the side of his cage—he felt like a goddamn owl—contemplating who was the most annoying friend he had (who wasn’t dead), realising that pretty much all his friends were either dead or assumed to be so, when lo, into the courtroom walked Remus Lupin.
“We hereby begin…the trial of Sirius Orion Black.” Millicent Bagnold, the Minister for Magic herself, was overseeing his trial, and yet his eyes were stuck on the ‘defence attorney’. She was still talking, and he was not listening. Remus looked tired, and even thinner than usual - a few new scars, too. He wasn't dead, though. That one was a surprise. Motherfucker, he wasn't dead.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sure you want to get this over with as quickly as possible, so I’ll get right to the heart of the matter. There’s no need for the formalities, Minister, this is an odd case and frankly, I would like to get out of here. You have the defendant’s wand?”
“We do.”
“I’d like to submit that into evidence. I assume that Prior Incantato was used to determine that he casted the spell?”
“Under the circumstances, we didn’t think it necessary,” said a rather sour-looking member of the Wizengamot.
“He shouldn’t even be having this trial,” said Barty Crouch Sr, the prosecutor, indignantly. “I arrested him myself.”
“To imprison a man in Azkaban for something you have not even made certain of, Mr Crouch, shows an astounding lack of both judgement and morality. Prior Incantato.”
There were a few interested murmurs.
“As you can see, the last spell used by this wand was not, in fact, a Blasting Curse, but the Stunning Spell. Not exactly something that would kill twelve Muggles and a wizard, hmm?”
“That could well have been cast after the incident!” cried the sour-looking wizard. “And who else could have cast that Curse?”
“According to your records, Mr Black was arrested directly after the incident and made no attempt at a struggle through magical means - all though he did, quote, 'threaten to burn Barty Crouch's legs off' and 'attempt to...throw one of the Aurors on the scene...Hulk-style'. As disturbing as that is - uhh, where was his opportunity to cast the spell? Surely some Auror would have seen him cast a Stunning Spell.”
“That does bring us to the question, defender, as to who cast the Blasting Curse,” said the Minister.
“A fair question, Minister. However, I’m going to have to request a moment alone with the defendant.”
“Overruled!” cried Crouch.
“Granted,” said the Minister, looking wearily at him. “You have ten minutes.”
“You look like shit,” said Sirius.
“You’ve looked better yourself, sunshine.” Remus blinked, apparently not having anticipated that to be the first thing he said to his ex-potential-traitor-boyfriend.
Sirius just stared at him.
“Sirius, I need to ask you if I’m right. That’s not technically…legal protocol, but I have to know.”
Sirius nodded, his throat dry. “It was Peter.”
“You were Secret Keeper. How did anyone find out about where James and Lily were? You didn’t—”
“No. I convinced James to switch to Peter last minute.”
Remus blinked. “You didn’t tell me.”
“You know why that is, and I was wrong. What are you doing, Remus? Why would you believe me?”
Remus shook his head. “I just do.”
Sirius looked at him, his brow furrowed. “You need to know what actually happened on the street—”
“If you weren’t Secret Keeper, then I already know.” Sirius gaped, but Remus turned back to the Wizengamot. “Ready, Your Hon—Minister. Son of a bitch, I need to stop watching crime shows.”
“In that case, defender, go ahead. Who cast the Blasting Curse?”
“It was Peter Pettigrew, Minister.”
Oh dang, a twist. “Peter Pettigrew is dead!” cried Crouch. “All that was left of him was a finger!”
“Mr Pettigrew, in an attempt to frame Si—the defendant, cut off his own finger and escaped the scene.”
“That street was swarming with Aurors—how on earth could he have gotten out?”
“A simple Disillusionment Charm would have rendered him invisible to any onlookers, or indeed an Invisibility Cloak.”
“Is it not possible, defender, that Sirius Black used Pettigrew’s wand to cast the Blasting Curse?” asked Crouch.
“If that were the case, then where is Pettigrew’s wand now? Had the defendant used it to cast the Blasting Curse, it would have been in his hands when he was arrested. It was not.”
“Then where is Pettigrew now?” asked the Minister.
“That, Minister, is not my concern. However, I think I have proved that the defendant was not guilty.”
“What was he doing on the street where the Blasting Curse was performed, if not to kill?” asked a thin, tired-looking witch.
“That one’s easy. The defendant had just discovered his best friends, Lily and James Potter, dead at the hands of Pettigrew, who was the Secret Keeper with regards to their location. Pettigrew had given away the location of their hiding space to V—the Dark Lord—”
“That is conjecture!”
“I think you’ll find, Mr Crouch, that it is not. As a trusted friend of Lily and James, I was fully aware of the situation with the Secret Keeper—” wow, that stung—“And as a consequence, I am certain that the only person who could have given away their location is Pettigrew. They trusted him implicitly, which was a mistake on their part. As I was saying, the defendant, in grief and anger, tracked down Pettigrew and attempted to accost him. Hence, his presence on the street the day of the incident.”
More murmurs.
“In conclusion, the defendant did not cast the Blasting Curse, was attempting to accost the real criminal, and did not, on any account, betray Lily and James Potter, as he had no motive nor did he have the opportunity. This is not to mention the blatant and inhumane miscarriage of justice -”
"Measures will be taken, Mr Lupin," interrupted the Minister. "You can stop now."
Votes. 27 to 23. Cleared of all charges.
3rd November, 1981
10.04pm
“You got some of it wrong, you know,” said Sirius, after finally being released.
“No, I didn’t,” said Remus shortly.
Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Expand.”
“Peter turned into a rat and got away, he didn’t use an Disillusionment Charm. And you definitely were going to kill him, not incapacitate him. I didn’t think it exactly the right move to mention that Peter was an illegal Animagus and that you wanted to commit murder in front of a jury.”
“Fair point.”
“Am I taking you somewhere?” asked Remus, suddenly looking tired. “I have a car.”
“I have Elvendork. Oh, fuck, no. I gave her to Hagrid.”
“Hagrid?” Remus looked deeply confused.
“It’s a long story. Remus, he took Harry. I didn’t want to give him away, but Hagrid insisted.”
“Took your godson and your child,” said Remus, an amused look on his face. “Wait—hang on. If he had let you keep the damn baby…”
“I never would’ve been on that fucking street in the first place,” finished Sirius. “I know.”
“Sirius, where am I taking you?” asked Remus rather gently.
Sirius shook his head. “Nowhere. Pettigrew’s hiding place.”
“OK then.” Remus bit his lip. “Let’s go kill the rat.”
Sirius narrowed his eyes. “wot”
“You heard me. Let’s go murder.”
“Remus Softie Lupin is willing to kill a bitch!” Sirius cried. “I’ve never been so proud, Moony.” Remus looked rather surprised at Sirius’ sudden use of his old nickname—one he hadn’t heard in six months.
“Er, after the murder,” said Remus, awkwardly. “Where are you living?”
Sirius shrugged. “My place kind of got…exploded. After...well. You know.”
Remus sighed. “I’ve got the bookstore. You can crash there for a few days.”
“…Thanks.”
“A few days, mind you,” Remus warned. Sirius nodded sheepishly. “It’s in Surrey, so…I got us train tickets. Let’s go.”
“You got two train tickets? But I was in literal Hell Prison, Remus. I wasn’t even going to have a trail.”
“I have a lot of faith in myself.”
Sirius grinned, and glanced at Remus' hands. Why was he doing that? “I mean, you were right, so no complaints here.” Hands. Why were they important? Ah, the ring. The not-ring, actually.
Remus looked quickly up at Sirius’ face, and noticed he looked rather crestfallen.
3rd November, 1981
3.49pm
“Go take a nap,” Remus ordered, after a Very long train ride. “The bedroom is—”
“I know. I spent many a night crashing here.” Sirius sighed. “I don’t want to go to sleep right now.”
“You’re exhausted.”
“And I also just spent three days reliving all of my worst memories. I’d rather…not.”
Remus nodded slightly. “Sorry about the boxes.”
“Where were you living before this, Remus?” asked Sirius gently.
Remus was quiet for a few seconds. “Nowhere in particular.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means…around.” Remus sat down on an armchair, and Sirius did the same.
“That doesn't help me.”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you - I have Dwarvendork. And—“
“Poseidon!” Sirius cried, picking him up as he came slinking into the room.
“He was at Lily and James’. I found him.”
“How’d you find out about me? About James and Lily?”
“It was all over the news. Everywhere.” Remus sighed heavily. “Listen, I’ve got a thing I need to do, OK? Do you mind waiting here?”
“No. I could come with you, if you’d like.”
Remus shook his head. “I’d rather go alone. I’ll be a few hours, I have to travel. There’s old Firewhiskey in the cupboard, I think. Happy birthday.” This last words just slipped out, and even Remus looked rather surprised at them.
“What?” But Remus was already gone.
3rd November, 1981
7.13pm
“Have you finally taken me up on that job offer, Remus?” asked Dumbledore congenially. Remus stormed into his office.
“You told me he was guilty.”
Dumbledore paused. “And at the time, that is what I believed. I had no reason to think otherwise.”
“Of course you did! You had every reason to—YOU TOLD ME HE WAS GUILTY!” Sweet Jesus, he was yelling at Dumbledore. “HE COULD’VE BEEN LEFT—THERE, AZKABAN—TO ROT, AND YOU TOLD ME HE WAS GUILTY!”
“Had I known—”
“YOU KNEW HE WASN’T SECRET KEEPER! YOU KNEW—AND YOU KNEW HOW CLOSE HE AND JAMES WERE! HOW COULD YOU EVER THINK—IT’S A FUCKING DISGRACE—” Shit, swearing lost him ten points WHAT THE FUCK WAS HE THINKING HE WAS 21 YEARS OLD
“Please calm down, Remus,” Dumbledore said, looking rather unnerved. “I made an assumption. It was…a mistake, on my part, that I admit.”
“NO SHIT IT WAS A MISTAKE—OF ALL THE COLOSSAL FUCK-UPS, THIS IS THE WORST—THE WORST.”
Dumbledore sighed and adjusted his glasses. “I cannot repay you,” he said quietly, “For the duty you have fulfilled both for Sirius and for me. Your methods, however unorthodox, saved him from a great injustice.”
“Unorthodox - what do you mean, unorthodox?” Remus was slightly out of breath. Dumbledore chuckled.
“The way you approached Sirius’ case was through logic. Reason. The Ministry tend not to deal with such trivial matters.”
“Fucking clearly.” Remus appeared to have calmed down a bit. “I actually just…came to shout at you, so…mission accomplished.”
“...Indeed.”
“Where’s Harry?”
“I’m sorry?”
Remus stared straight back at him. Remus Lupin, the man who could stare down Walburga Black. “Where’s Harry?”
Dumbledore sighed. “He’s with Lily’s sister’s family. Do not do anything rash, Remus.”
“Don’t do anything rash my ass. Where do they live?”
Dumbledore reluctantly scribbled down an address and handed it to him. Guilt! What an easily exploitable tool. “Goodbye, Remus. I do hope you’ll take me up on that job offer soon.”
“Sincerely doubt it, Dumbledore.”
3rd November, 1981
10.27pm
“You were gone a while,” said Sirius, looking up from a book.
“And you’re sober,” said Remus. “Didn’t expect that one.”
Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Go to shout at Dumbledore?”
Remus purposely didn’t reply, rather hating how well Sirius knew him. He hung up his coat. “I’m going to bed.” He paused, then: “I’m in the main bedroom if you need anything.”
Ah yes, Sirius thought, the banishment to the guest bedroom. Entirely fair, under the circumstances. “OK. Sleep well, Moony.”
“Goodnight, Sirius.”
4th November, 1981
2.35am
Remus felt a weight by his legs, and his eyes opened to see a big black dog sleeping on the foot of his bed. Yes. Warm. Very tired. Sleep.
When he woke up, the dog was gone, and he remembered nothing.
4th November, 1981
8.20am
“Morning.” Sirius was making an omelette. “Coffee? Omelette?”
Remus shook his head, running a hand through his hair. Sirius glanced at this for a second and coughed. “Morning.”
“Nice…outfit.” Sirius sounded slightly pained, looking at Remus in a T-shirt and boxers. Remus raised his eyebrows and ignored this.
“What are we going to do about Harry? You’re his legal guardian now.”
“Er—I’ll have to find myself a place. And then I’ll have to find him—” Sirius was interrupted by Remus handing him a scrap of paper. “What’s this?”
“It’s where Harry lives currently. 4 Privet Drive.”
“That’s…” Sirius paused. “That’s two streets down.”
“Yes. Listen, we’ll go get him and we can bring him here, OK? I got all of Lily and James’ baby stuff. Everything that…was saved, anyway.”
“I can’t take up space—”
“Yes, you can,” said Remus sharply. “Sirius, you won’t be able to find another place and you know that.”
Sirius looked irritated. “I can find a place.”
“You don’t have a job and you’re a wizard punk with three tattoos.”
“You don’t have a job! You’re a werewolf nerd with a lip piercing!” Sirius cried.
“I own a small bookstore, cunt,” said Remus. “Plus, you’re the one who fucked up most recently, so…I win. I’m right.”
Sirius gaped, unable to find an answer.
“Let’s go kidnap a child,” said Remus, grabbing his coat.
4th November, 1981
8.41am
“Good morning. I’m Luigi and this is Princess Peach,” said the impossibly tall man with several scars wearing a beige jumper and a lip ring, jabbing his thumb towards his not-quite-as-tall but somewhat scarier associate, who was wearing a leather jacket and had several tattoos and terrible hair, thought Petunia.
“We’re here to steal a child!” said Leather Jacket cheerfully.
“Not Dudley!” cried Petunia hysterically. “Oh, not my baby!”
Jumper pulled a face. “No, not your child, Petunia. The good one.”
Petunia began to vaguely recognise the scrawny kid who Lily used to hang around with—he had a ridiculous name—Robert? No, too normal—, but they barged past her. She simply gaped as Jumper scooped up the gently sleeping baby, whose crib had been placed rather awkwardly in the hallway. His eyes flickered open. “Moony!”
“Yeah, it’s me! It’s Uncle Remus!”
Remus, that was it.
“Listen, we’re going to go,” said Remus, bouncing the baby gently. “Are you going to call the police?”
Petunia stared at him, and then shook her head slowly. Why was she doing that? Of course she was going to! They were breaking and entering! Also - kidnapping - that was probably the more important one -
Then again.
Perhaps Lily’s only child was better left in the hands of people who would love him. Because she knew, in her heart, she would not make a good mother to this child.
In her last (and perhaps only) act of decency, in an attempt to honour her sister, Petunia let them go.
“Good. We’ll never see you again, probably,” said Leather Jacket, whose name Petunia had not caught. “Actually, we live in the bookstore a few streets away, you probably will. Bye!”