Reminiscing
Harry spent a while lying in bed, staring at the black and silver canopy of his bed.
He couldn’t sleep. He was too riled up from the events of the evening. He wasn’t angry anymore, but he couldn’t get his mind to still.
Sometime after 1 am, he decided to give up completely, and finally climbed out of the bed. Without really making the conscious decision to do so, he grabbed his wand, then the invisibility cloak and draped it over his shoulders. He was going to wander about the townhouse and explore some of the empty rooms. He figured it’d be the perfect time to try out his father’s cloak.
Sneaking as quietly as he could, he made sure to stay away from the floors where the adults were sleeping. He took the stairs slowly, knowing they had a tendency to creek, then quickly found himself meandering around the 1st floor.
He headed to what appeared to be the drawing room. His eyes immediately caught on a huge tapestry that took up the entire far wall, and spilled over onto the other walls as well. It was too dark to make it out completely, but he saw multiple lighter spots dotted along the whole thing and a few black patches. He was curious to see what it was.
He pulled the door shut behind him, then cast a lumos to brighten the room. Resting the cloak on the back of one of the chairs, he approached the tapestry.
They were faces. Each face had a label beneath it, bearing a name. Most of them ended in Black, but there were quite a few others among the mix. They were all connected by thick, dark branches.
Something large and black suddenly moved into Harry’s peripheral vision and he leapt around in shock, barely suppressing a scream. His heart pounded in his chest a mile a minute as he realized it was the dog that attacked he and Draco last night.
He stuck his wand out in front of him protectively as he scrambled backwards and away from it.
It didn’t appear vicious this time, or even angry. In fact, it was simply sitting there, watching Harry carefully with its bright yellow eyes. Still, he couldn’t lower his heart rate, or settle the sudden rush of adrenaline as he waited for it to spring and attack him.
The thing really was huge. Even sitting down, it’s head was chest height for Harry. Its paws were huge, and sporting claws that looked the size of his own fingers. They could tear him apart easily. He couldn’t see it’s fangs, but he remembered from yesterday that they were large and razor sharp. Honestly, the beast appeared as if it could swallow Harry whole if it wanted to.
Just then, it was sitting there ominously, unmoving. It was almost eerie the way it watched Harry. He couldn’t help but be reminded of Black Shuck, the Grim. The thought sent a chill up his spine.
He stood there, frozen with his wand suspended in the air, waiting for even the slightest of movements from the dog. He didn’t know how long he stood there. It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours. More likely, it could have been a few seconds. They both sat there, staring at each other closely.
Finally, the dog moved, but not in the way Harry had expected. Instead of surging forward or even opening its mouth into a snarl, it’s whole outline blurred and shifted. In the space of a single second, in the dog’s place stood Sirius Black.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said quietly. Harry let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “What are you doing here so late at night?”
“Um,” Harry started, trying to reign in his surprise at his godfather being an animagus. “I couldn’t sleep, so I just went exploring. I had no idea you were in here,” he added on, recalling the dog’s-Sirius’ reaction to his first intrusion.
“That’s alright,” Sirius explained. “I was… hiding.” He seemed remiss to admit it. “You weren’t supposed to notice.”
“What are you hiding from?” Harry asked.
“You,” Sirius admitted without skipping a beat. Harry flinched, so the man rushed to continue on. “Myself. My mistakes.” At that, he lowered his gaze to the ground, unable to meet Harry’s eye.
“What mistakes?” Harry questioned. He knew this was going to be a sensitive topic, but he wanted to talk it out, and there was no time like the present.
At first, Sirius just shrugged, saying nothing, but Harry waited him out a few minutes, and he finally answered.
“Like your parents,” he whispered.
“That wasn’t your fault,” Harry disagreed. “Pettigrew was the one that gave them up, not you!”
“That doesn’t make me not at fault.” Sirius stated simply. He took a deep breath, then elaborated. “I was supposed to be your parents’ Secret Keeper. They trusted me, and I let them down. Peter only traded places with me because I convinced your father to switch us.
“We knew there was a spy among us. So we knew it would eventually get out that your parents were under the Fidelius Charm. Knowing that, it would be completely obvious who their Secret Keeper was. There was no one in the world your father trusted more than me. Everyone knew that. So I knew the Death Eaters would come after me. I’d never have given them up. I knew if I was ever caught, that I’d be tortured to death, and the Charm would die with me. I couldn’t let that happen.”
Harry already realized where Sirius was going with this, so he stopped him right there.
“Which is why you switched with Pettigrew,” he finished. “But you’re not to blame for Pettigrew’s betrayal. No matter what your actions led up to, only Pettigrew is responsible for what he did. They were choices that he made. He didn’t have to, but he did. You’re not at fault for that. I would say that I forgive you, but there’s nothing to forgive.”
“You’re a very clever boy.” Sirius’ eyes filled with tears, but they never spilled. Instead, his face twisted into a half smile, half grimace and he quietly laughed. It wasn’t happy, or amused laughter. It sounded gruff and sad, more like a wheeze than anything else. He stopped after only a moment, then looked up into Harry’s eyes again.
“Thank you,” he said, sincerely. He stepped forward and put a hand on Harry’s shoulder, squeezing it briefly. “But that’s not the only mistake I made.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “I’m so sorry Harry, but it’s my fault you were sent to the Dursley’s.”
Harry gasped, jerking back a little. “How?” he asked, more sharply than he intended. Sirius’ hand slid off his shoulder.
“I was there that night,” Sirius explained. “When your parents were killed. I was the first one there. I found them… I found you.” Harry’s eyes opened wider as he caught on to where this story was going as well. “Honestly, I barely even remember it.
“I remember…” he stopped and took another deep breath, as if afraid to say it. “I was distraught,” he corrected, instead. “My entire world was ripped out from under my feet, and I could barely function. I don’t even know how I made it back outside with you. But Hagrid was there. He said he came for you. Dumbledore sent him. I didn’t know what to do, I could barely think. So, I handed you off. Just like that. I even gave him my motorbike.
“We all trusted Dumbledore back then. Did whatever he said, blindly. Of course, I know better now. But back then, it never occurred to me to do anything but follow his orders. That’s still no excuse. I still gave you up and let you get carted off to those wretched people.”
Harry stood there in silence, barely comprehending. He wasn’t even able to look at Sirius any more. He had so many emotions flying around in his head, and he couldn’t make sense of a single one of them.
“I’ll understand if you hate me,” Sirius whispered. “Really, I deserve it.”
Harry was overwhelmed. Suddenly, he felt very tired. He needed to lay down.
“I…” he started. “I need to go to bed.”
With that, he cancelled his lumos, went to grab the invisibility cloak, and fled the room.
The next morning, the men were noticeably absent from the breakfast table. Though, admittedly, it was earlier than usual. Sirius was likely hiding again. No one was certain where Uncle Arty went, though Aunt Wally was promised by Kreacher that he left by floo, just after dawn. Mr. Malfoy had gone to the Board of Governor’s meeting, and was finally presenting all the evidence Hermione had so studiously compiled.
Harry tried to focus on that, instead of any new discoveries he made last night. Hopefully, Dumbledore would be done for, now. He wondered who would be next on Hermione’s Hit List once Project RAD was officially over.
The idea of the bookish Hermione being the mastermind behind their “evil plot” had him smiling into his eggs.
“What’s got you so happy?” Draco asked, quietly.
“Just thinking about flying our new broomsticks,” Harry fibbed, smoothly. He didn’t want to discuss their plans in front of the adults.
When they flooed to the Manor, Narcissa warned them to keep themselves scarce for a while. She and Aunt Wally had a long list of people being endowed with Trinkets that day. Apparently, it had become a bit of a trend to present a person with an appointment card as a Christmas present.
Harry and Draco had no issue with that. Spending the whole day flying over the grounds sounded like paradise to them. They’d be sure to steer clear of the windows on the east side of the manor, where the appointments were being held.
The Nimbus 2000s were fantastic! Riding Draco’s Cleansweep had been exciting, but riding the Nimbus was an absolute thrill. It moved so fast that everything around Harry turned into a blur. The handle was so sensitive as well. The slightest tip to the side had him weaving in and out, up or down.
He saw Draco streak past him, going the opposite direction, and laughed as he heard the echoes of the other boy whooping through the air.
They caught up with each other, chuckling excitedly as they hovered hundreds of feet in the air.
“Just imagine playing quidditch with these!” Draco exclaimed. “We’d be unstoppable!”
“I can’t wait until next year when we can finally try out for the team,” Harry sighed whimsically.
“What position would you like to play?” Draco asked.
“I dunno,” Harry pondered. “Probably seeker.” He thought about it for a minute longer. “Yes. Definitely seeker.”
“Nah,” Draco disagreed, playfully. “You’ll have to try a different position. I’m going to be seeker.”
Harry scoffed back at him. “You don’t know that! I could be!”
“Nope,” Draco insisted, smiling. “You’d have to beat me in order to do that. And we all know you can’t do that.”
“You think so?” Harry challenged, smirking.
“I know so.”
Harry glared at the other boy. “Oh, you are so on!”
“Alright then,” Draco accepted. “On the count of three, first one to the menagerie, then back over to the game shed wins.”
“Okay.” They both held up 3 fingers, then counted in unison.
“One… Two…”
They both took off at 2.
After racing a few times, Draco decided they would chase the peacocks through the maze, trying to herd them all to the middle then back. Once they finished terrorizing the poor things, they tested their bravery by flying impossibly high, then seeing who could drop down the furthest before pulling back up. After nearly killing themselves, they decided it was time for a lunch break.
“So,” Draco began as they tucked into a couple of meat pies at the table in the center of the hedge maze. “What do you think of Sirius Black? He’s kind of weird, isn’t he?”
Harry blanched at the topic. He’d been pretty successful at avoiding thinking of the man all morning. Now, he didn’t have much choice.
“Weird how?” Harry asked.
“He’s so… quiet,” Draco explained, thinking of how to extrapolate. “I mean, he hides a lot, then when he does come out, he barely speaks. Unless he’s mad about something. Then, remember yesterday when we were trimming the tree and he just sat there looking at nothing. It’s like he wasn’t even in the room. Then last night…” Draco continued, trying to speak carefully. “When he got angry about what you said about your relatives, I could just feel his magic thickening the air. It was so heavy, like fire or… poison. Honestly, it’s no wonder the ministry so easily believed he was a mass murderer, without any evidence.”
“Wait,” Harry was distracted from his Godfather for a moment. “You said you could feel his magic?”
“Yeah,” Draco agreed.
Harry remembered reading about being able to feel a person’s magical aura from all of the studying up he’d done. Everything he’d read had explained that it was a pretty difficult thing to do, that needed years training. Even then, it would take lots of studying to be able to understand it at all. Most wizards these days didn’t bother because it was a lot of work for something with such a narrow range of usefulness.
“How did you learn to do that?” Harry asked, amazed.
“I’ve never learned,” Draco replied, offhandedly. “I’ve always just been pretty sensitive to it, I guess. Usually, only when I’m paying attention, but Sirius’ was so strong yesterday that it practically slammed into me. I’ve never felt anyone’s that strong before.” He shuddered, recalling the sensation.
“He’s weird though, right?” Draco returned the conversation to the man in question.
Harry thought for a moment. “Yeah, he is, but I guess it makes sense. I mean, after ten years in Azkaban, I don’t think anyone would be normal. Even if the dementors didn’t affect him.” He thought about Sirius’ demeanor when they met in the drawing room.
“Honestly,” he continued, “I think he’s just really sad. And lonely. He feels really guilty for everything that happened with my parents. And me.”
“Well, that’s stupid,” Draco asserted. “It’s all Dumbledore’s fault. And You-Know-Who’s. He can’t take the blame for what they did.”
“That’s what I told him last night…”
“When?”
“I couldn’t get to sleep,” Harry explained. “So I went walking around the house and I ran into him in the drawing room.”
“Oh,” Draco nodded, understanding. “What did he say?”
“He said he was hiding from me. From himself, and the mistakes he made. He also said he was sorry, because he’s the one who gave me to Hagrid.”
“What?” Draco’s eyes grew wide with incredulity.
“He said that he was there that night, when my parents died. He’s the one that found them and me. Then, Hagrid showed up and told him Dumbledore wanted to send me away to the Dursley’s. And he handed me over, even gave Hagrid his motorbike.”
“I bet he blames himself for that, too…” Draco shook his head in pity of the man.
“What do you mean?” Harry asked.
“For you getting sent to the Dursleys,” Draco explained. Harry was still confused. Of course he blamed himself. That one was actually his fault. Draco continued. “It’s hardly his fault that Dumbledore sent you there.”
“Yeah, but he could have stopped him,” Harry added.
“How?” Harry just blinked at Draco. “He’s so distant and out of sorts now. I imagine it was ten times worse right when it all happened. He probably had no idea what he was doing. Even if he did, it was Dumbledore’s orders. The Great Dumbledore,” he said in a mocking tone. “The Leader of the Light. The Greatest Wizard of All Time save Merlin himself.” He scoffed, then continued speaking regularly. “Nobody could have stood up against him. Even You-Know-Who was scared of him. No one even bothered to question why he was the one to choose where you’d live. Dumbledore’s word is basically law. He took advantage of that.”
Draco was right on all accounts. Ultimately, this was still all down to Dumbledore. Even if Sirius had fought, Harry would have wound up on Privet Drive anyways.
And Sirius himself said he didn’t even know how he made it down the stairs. Hagrid probably could have told him Dumbledore’s orders were to toss him off a bridge and he’d have handed him over. Dumbledore would have known he’d be affected so strongly. He’d taken advantage of the situation.
That seemed to be a recurring theme.
“You’re absolutely right,” Harry agreed. He really couldn’t blame Sirius for what happened. Despite having been the one to pass him off, it was still Dumbledore who decided to send him to Surrey as opposed to anywhere else. And, like Draco said, he would have gotten his way regardless.
“I wonder what Hermione’s doing,” Draco suddenly changed the subject. He could see how somber Harry was becoming with the topic at hand, so he decided to switch to something more cheerful. It was quite obvious what he was doing, but Harry was grateful.
After a long day of broom riding under heavy cloaks and warming charms, both boys were exhausted when they made it back to Grimmald Place for dinner.
By then, both Mr. Malfoy and Uncle Arty had returned. Despite his typical aloofness and stoicism, the elder man seemed rather happy about something. He even had the house elves bring out a bottle of Nettle Wine to toast to “family and the future.”
Harry found that to be rather vague, leaving him curious. But he kept quiet, sipping the sweet blue liquid and being grateful that no one cared he was underage.
The next day was Christmas Eve, though it meant little to nothing to the Malfoy-Black brood. Aunt Wally in particular wanted to ascertain that the day—and the one following—went about as plainly as possible.
Harry and Draco found themselves in the Library with Mr. Malfoy again. Draco had found an interesting potions book to read that stopped stinging him once he opened it up, and Harry found a non-cursed book about spellcrafting.
Surprisingly, Sirius joined them in the Library that day. He kept to himself and hid in one of the corners that had more cursed books in it than safe ones. He managed to find one unimpeded and sat with it in silence for a while.
Harry was interested in his book, but once Sirius entered, he found it hard to focus on the complex equations and arithmancy. His mind kept wandering to the way he ran from Sirius the other day, and he wanted to apologize.
Giving up on reading, Harry set the book aside then approached the man. “What are you reading about?” he asked, tentatively.
“Werewolves,” Sirius answered. His voice was quiet and, though his face betrayed no emotion, he somehow seemed sad.
“Scary things, aren’t they?” Harry joked, trying to lighten the mood, but Sirius frowned.
“Not all of them,” he disputed.
“Well,” Harry rushed to correct himself, “I suppose not on the other days of the month.”
He could see that this conversation was going nowhere, so he decided to cut to the chase.
“Look,” he began, “I just wanted to say, I’m sorry for running out on you the other day.” Sirius looked up at him with his eyebrows drawn. “I don’t blame you for sending me to the Dursleys. Whether you’d given me to Hagrid or not, I’d have wound up there anyways, and that’s all Dumbledore’s doing. There’s no point in being upset with you for it.”
Sirius’ face relaxed as he gazed at Harry, silver eyes glistening. “You’re far too kind. Just like your mother. I don’t deserve it.”
After a brief pause, Harry got an idea. “Can you tell me about her?” he asked gently. “And my father?”
Sirius nodded. He patted the seat beside him and gestured for Harry to sit down. He took a deep breath as he did.
“Your mother was the kindest and bravest woman I ever knew, and your father didn’t deserve her.” He looked at Harry with a twinkle in his eye, and Harry knew he meant it as a joke. “He and I were… well, we were right berks in our Hogwarts days. Me especially. Lily was the only one who could keep us line. Well, her and…” he dropped his eyes to the book in his lap, then lifted them back up. “Our other friend R-R-Remus.” He stuttered on the name.
“Lily was clever and beautiful, and James was in love with her from day one, on the Hogwarts express.” Harry smiled at the thought. “You look so much like him. You’re his spitting image. Except those eyes. Those are one hundred percent Lily’s eyes.
“Anyways, James was always up to something to try and impress her, but it never worked.” The right side of his mouth quirked up for just a second, and it was the closest thing to a smile that Harry had seen from the man. “We were quite the pranksters in our day,” he continued. “Most of our pranks were attempts to catch Lily’s attention. Others were because we were bored. Then, there was the occasional vengeance for some assumed slight.
“Lily was one of the only people to ever put James in his place. Her and Professor McGonagall.” Harry chuckled softly. He could definitely see that.
“Don’t get me wrong, though. James may have been a love struck idiot, but he was quite clever when he wanted to be. He was hilarious, brave as can be, and fiercely loyal. If you were his friend, he’d do anything to protect you. He was so noble and stupid that way. I loved him like a brother.”
Harry could hear his tone growing even more somber, so he thought of something that might have been a bit more cheerful.
“What kind of pranks did you get up to?” he asked.
Sirius made that gruff, chesty wheeze that was the closest he ever came to a laugh. “All sorts. From simple things like ruining a classmate’s potions, to bigger things like altering a professor’s exams so the questions would change, or make no sense.” He paused for a second, seeming to ponder something amusing.
“Our seventh year,” he began, “on the last day, your father and I decided to have one last little competition. We decided to see who could make Professor McGonagall the angriest.”
“That sounds like it would have been a disaster…” Harry scoffed.
“Oh, it was spectacular!” Sirius’ eyes lit up, and for the first time since Harry had met him, he was smiling. Not just both sides of his mouth quirked up at the same time, but full on grinning with his teeth showing and everything.
He looked so much younger and attractive that way, that Harry was almost blown away by the image. He could feel his heart rate soar and blood rushing to his face. He smiled in return, absolutely ecstatic to see that his godfather could even feel such positive emotions.
“It started off with me charming the banners around the Great Hall to all sing ‘God Rest, Ye Merry Hippogriffs.’” Harry laughed aloud there, imagining the raucous it would have caused. “Of course, your father couldn’t take that, so he retaliated by transfiguring some of the Hufflepuff’s plates into Frisbees, which then began to fly around the room.” Sirius grew animated, whirling a finger through the air as an example.
“That just wouldn’t do,” he continued. “You see, your father was always quite adept at transfiguration. He often liked to pretend that he was better at it than me. So every now and then, I had to remind him who was really boss. So I transfigured all of the Ravenclaw’s hats into actual ravens.”
Harry dropped his mouth open in shock. He could just picture the students all screaming and shouting with birds and Frisbees soaring through the air. All to the soundtrack off the banners’ singing.
“It was utter chaos!” Sirius confirmed. “McGonagall shouted my name across the room, and I just knew I’d won. But your father—clever git that he was—went and cursed all the candles above the Slytherin table. So instead of showering the students in light, they showered the students in silver and green paint.”
Harry snorted a laugh, finding the prank hilarious, but also a tiny bit indignant on behalf of his fellow Slytherins.
“Poor McGonagall,” Sirius reminisced. “It’s a miracle she didn’t burst a blood vessel, she screamed his name so loud. I was done for, then. There was no topping that. Lest I wanted to give the poor woman heart failure.”
“I can’t imagine what it must have been like going to school with you two,” Harry chuckled out.
“Me neither,” Sirius replied. “We were dreadful. It’s an honest miracle that we were never expelled. Dumbledore’s doing, I’m sure. He always seemed to have a soft spot for the two of us. Though, Merlin knows why.” At the mention of Dumbledore, Sirius’ grin became pinched, then devolved into a grimace as his eyes bore a hole into the floor.
Harry mirrored the sentiment. “I hate that man,” he stated.
“So do I,” Sirius agreed, full on scowling. “It’s one thing that he locked me up even when he knew I was innocent. But what he did to you… That’s unforgiveable.”
Harry didn’t want to dwell on his own misfortunes at the hand of Dumbledore. “He knew you were innocent?” he asked instead. “I knew he was the one who approved you being sent to Azkaban, lobbied for it even. Although, there’s no proof of him having a hand in your lack of a trial. But I wouldn’t think he’d have done so if he knew you were innocent.”
“Neither would I,” Sirius replied, darkly. “But he’s the one who performed the Fidelius Charm on Peter. It’s a powerful spell, and he refused to let anyone else attempt it. So there’s no way possible that he could claim not to have known that Peter was the one to betray your parents. But he and Crouch sent me off to Azkaban anyways, and left me there to rot.”
Sirius’ demeanor was quickly turning sour, and he didn’t appear to be in the mood for reminiscing anymore. Harry thought it’d be best that he left the man alone for a little while, now. He stood from his seat and tried to smile at him.
“Thanks,” Harry told him. “For telling me about my parents. Hopefully, you can tell me a bit more about them another time.”
Sirius’ face withdrew into its usual blank expression, and he nodded. It hurt Harry’s heart to see him withdraw into himself again, after those brief moments of opening up completely. He resolved to get his godfather to smile again before he went back to Hogwarts. He was beautiful when he smiled, and his eyes lit up the brightest silver. He deserved to always feel that way.
With that silent promise to himself, Harry waved goodbye, then turned to head back to the other side of the library.