Book: Courage
Chapter 33
Word Count: 4206
Harry spent the weekend in the hospital wing, but by Monday, he was out and alright. While Layla was disappointed that Gryffindor lost during her first ever match, Draco was almost beside himself with glee at Gryffindor's defeat. He had finally taken off his bandages, and celebrated having the full use of both arms again by doing spirited imitations of Harry falling off his broom.
Draco spent much of their next Potions class doing dementor imitations across the dungeon; Ron finally cracked and flung a large, slippery crocodile heart at Malfoy, which hit him in the face and caused Snape to take fifty points from Gryffindor.
"If Snape's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts again, I'm skiving off," said Ron as they headed toward Lupin's classroom after lunch.
"No, my dad's back in today," Layla reassured, causing Ron to sigh in relief.
The class took their seats in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and they burst at once into an explosion of complaints about Snape's behavior while Remus had been ill.
"It's not fair, he was only filling in, why should he give us homework?"
"We don't know anything about werewolves two rolls of parchment!"
"Did you tell Professor Snape we haven't covered them yet?" Remus asked, frowning slightly as he glanced at Layla, the two sharing a significant look as if they were having a silent conversation.
The babble broke out again.
"Yes, but he said we were really behind—"
"—he wouldn't listen—"
"—two rolls of parchment!"
Remus smiled at the look of indignation on every face.
"Don't worry. I'll speak to Professor Snape. You don't have to do the essay."
"Oh no," said Hermione, looking very disappointed. "I've already finished it!"
They had a very enjoyable lesson. Remus had brought along a glass box containing a hinkypunk, a little one-legged creature who looked as though he were made of wisps of smoke, rather frail and harmless looking.
"Lures travelers into bogs," said Remus as they took notes. "You notice the lantern dangling from his hand? Hops ahead — people follow the light — then—"
The hinkypunk made a horrible squelching noise against the glass.
When the bell rang, everyone gathered up their things and headed for the door, but Layla stayed behind. She waited until everyone had left before pulling out her wand.
"Muffliato."
Once the room was sound-proofed, Layla turned to her dad.
"Snape really hates your guts, doesn't he?"
"Yep. He always has," said Remus with a sigh.
"Do you think he's trying to expose you?" asked Layla. "I mean, how does he even know what you are?"
"You know I went to school with him. He hated me," said Remus, shrugging. "It's a long story, Lay, involving some friends of mine. But Snivellus found out and he's apparently out to get me."
"So, what are you going to do?" muttered Layla.
"Don't worry, I'll handle it," said Remus. "Just leave it to me, okay? Go grab some lunch, honey."
"Okay," said Layla. "I'll see you later."
Layla quickly hugged her dad before leaving.
As the end of November rolled around, Ravenclaw beat Hufflepuff in their Quidditch match. Gryffindor were not out of the running after all, although they could not afford to lose another match. Wood became repossessed of his manic energy, and worked his team as hard as ever in the chilly haze of rain that persisted into December.
Two weeks before the end of the term, the sky lightened suddenly to a dazzling, opaline white and the muddy grounds were revealed one morning covered in glittering frost. Inside the castle, there was a buzz of Christmas in the air. Professor Flitwick had already decorated his classroom with shimmering lights that turned out to be real, fluttering fairies. The students were all happily discussing their plans for the holidays. Ron and Hermione had decided to remain at Hogwarts, and Layla obviously agreed to stay as well since her dad was there.
On December eleventh, Layla woke up to see Hermione already awake with birthday presents. Hermione had known better than to get Layla a journal after what happened with Tom Riddle the year before, but she did get Layla some fairy lights to decorate her bed in her dorm, as well as a poster of Gryffindor and a Snitch charm to add to Layla's charm bracelet. Parvati got Layla a handbag and Lavender got her a new lipstick. Harry got her a muggle radio to listen to music, Ron got her a pack of chocolate frogs and cauldron cakes, and Remus got her some exploding bon bons and a guitar as he knew Layla had wanted to learn how to play.
Cedric had also remembered her birthday. He'd gotten her some chocolate skeletons as he remembered Layla's love for them during their Hogsmeade trip. He also got her a December birth stone necklace.
Once Layla's birthday ended, Christmas was the next thing to look forward to.
There was another Hogsmeade trip on the last weekend of the term.
"We can do all our Christmas shopping there!" said Layla.
"Mum and Dad would really love those Toothflossing Stringmints from Honeydukes," Hermione added.
On the Saturday morning, Layla knew that her friends wanted her to go with them for at least one Hogsmeade trip, and she knew that Cedric's friends felt the same about him, so Layla decided to go with Ron and Hermione to Hogsmeade. They said goodbye to Harry before joining the queue to go to Hogsmeade. Filch didn't seem to want to be in the cold for very long, as he wasn't taking as long checking everyone's names. It was indeed bitterly cold.
They reached Hogsmeade to see it full of Christmas cheer. Many of the shops had festive goods in the windows and there were carol singers outside.
"Maybe we should go to Honeydukes first," Ron suggested. Layla and Hermione agreed.
Just before they headed inside, Layla noticed a sign that was pinned to the front door.
BY ORDER OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC
Customers are reminded that until further notice, dementors will be patrolling the streets of Hogsmeade every night after sundown. This measure has been put in place for the safety of Hogsmeade residents and will be lifted upon the recapture of Sirius Black. It is therefore advisable that you complete your shopping well before nightfall.
Merry Christmas!
Ron, Layla, and Hermione all exchanged a dark look, before heading inside.
Once inside, Layla noticed a stand that she hadn't seen when she was in there with Cedric. It was labelled 'Unusual Tastes'.
"Maybe we could get Harry some of these," she suggested. The three of them headed over and started examining a tray of blood-flavoured lollipops.
"Ugh, no, Harry won't want one of those," said Hermione with a chuckle, "they're for vampires, I expect."
"How about these?" said Ron, holding up a jar of Cockroach Clusters.
"Definitely not," said a voice behind them. Ron nearly dropped the jar. They both turned to see Harry pulling off his invisibility cloak, grinning.
"Harry!" said Layla with a wide smile. She quickly lowered her voice when she noticed several sixth years nearby. "What are you doing here? How — how did you—?"
"Wow!" said Ron, looking very impressed, "you've learned to Apparate!"
"'Course I haven't," said Harry. He dropped his voice so that none of the sixth years could hear him. "Fred and George gave me this map of the school called the Marauder's Map. It shows where everyone is while on Hogwarts grounds, and it shows where all the secret passages are, so I could get out of the school without anyone noticing."
"How come Fred and George never gave it to me!" said Ron, outraged. "I'm their brother!"
"But Harry isn't going to keep it!" said Hermione, as though the idea were ludicrous. "He's going to hand it in to Professor McGonagall, aren't you, Harry?"
"No, I'm not!" said Harry.
"Are you mad?" said Ron, goggling at Hermione. "Hand in something that good?"
"If I hand it in, I'll have to say where I got it! Filch would know Fred and George had nicked it!"
"But what about Sirius Black?" Hermione hissed. "He could be using one of the passages on that map to get into the castle! The teachers have got to know!"
"He can't be getting in through a passage," Layla chimed in. "My dad found out about all of the secret passages when he went to Hogwarts, and he said there are seven secret tunnels. Filch probably only knows about four of them. My dad said that out of the other three, one's caved in, one's got the Whomping Willow planted over the entrance, and with the other one, it's hard to see the entrance to it so you would have to know it was there to notice it."
"Well, what if Black did know the passage was there?" asked Harry.
"He wouldn't dare come here," said Layla, pointing at the notice pasted on the inside of the sweetshop door.
"I'd like to see Black try and break into Honeydukes with dementors swarming all over the village," said Ron. "Anyway, the Honeydukes owners would hear a break-in, wouldn't they? They live over the shop!"
"Yes, but — but—" Hermoine seemed to be struggling to find another problem. "Look, Harry still shouldn't be coming into Hogsmeade. He hasn't got a signed form! If anyone finds out, he'll be in so much trouble! And it's not nightfall yet — what if Sirius Black turns up today? Now?"
"He'd have a job spotting Harry in this," said Ron, nodding through the mullioned windows at the thick, swirling snow.
"Come on, 'Mione, it's Christmas," Layla pointed out. "Harry deserves a break."
Hermione bit her lip, looking extremely worried.
"Are you going to report me?" Harry asked her, grinning.
"Oh — of course not — but honestly, Harry—"
"Seen the Fizzing Whizbees, Harry?" said Ron, grabbing him and leading him over to their barrel. "And the Jelly Slugs? And the Acid Pops? Fred gave me one of those when I was seven — it burnt a hole right through my tongue. I remember Mum walloping him with her broomstick." Ron stared broodingly into the Acid Pop box. "Reckon Fred'd take a bit of Cockroach Cluster if I told him they were peanuts?"
When Ron and Hermione had paid for all their sweets, and Layla simply got a packet of chocolate skeletons, the four of them left Honeydukes for the blizzard outside.
Hogsmeade looked like a Christmas card; the little thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow; there were holly wreaths on the doors and strings of enchanted candles hanging in the trees.
They headed up the street, heads bowed against the wind, Ron, Layla, and Hermione shouting through their scarves.
"That's the post office—"
"Zonko's is up there—"
"We could go up to the Shrieking Shack—"
"Tell you what," said Ron, his teeth chattering, "shall we go for a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks?"
So they crossed the road, and in a few minutes were entering the tiny inn.
It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm, and smoky.
"That's Madam Rosmerta," said Ron to Harry, pointing at the woman behind the bar. "I'll get the drinks, shall I?" he added, going slightly red.
Harry, Layla, and Hermione made their way to the back of the room where there was a vacant table between the window and a handsome Christmas tree, which stood next to the fireplace. Ron came back five minutes later, carrying four foaming tankards of hot butterbeer.
"Merry Christmas!" he said happily, raising his tankard.
A sudden breeze ruffled Layla's hair as she drank her butterbeer. The door of the Three Broomsticks had opened again.
Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had just entered the pub with a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with a portly man in a lime-green bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak — Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.
In an instant, Ron and Layla had both placed hands on the top of Harry's head and forced him off his stool and under the table.
"Mobiliarbus," whispered Hermione, lifting her wand. The Christmas tree beside their table rose a few inches off the ground, drifted sideways, and landed with a soft thump right in front of their table, hiding them from view. McGonagall, Flitwick, Hagrid, and Fudge sat at the table right beside them. Madam Rosmerta then walked up to their table with four drinks.
"A small gillywater—"
"Mine," said Professor McGonagall.
"Four pints of mulled mead—"
"Ta, Rosmerta," said Hagrid.
"A cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella—"
"Mmm!" said Professor Flitwick, smacking his lips.
"So you'll be the red currant rum, Minister."
"Thank you, Rosmerta, m'dear," said Fudge's voice. "Lovely to see you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won't you? Come and join us."
"Well, thank you very much, Minister."
Madam Rosmerta walked off to get herself a drink and then took a seat at the table.
"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?" said Madam Rosmerta.
Fudge looked around as though he were checking for eavesdroppers. Then he said in a quiet voice, "What else, m'dear, but Sirius Black? I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Halloween?"
"I did hear a rumor," admitted Madam Rosmerta.
"Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?" said Professor McGonagall exasperatedly.
"Do you think Black's still in the area, Minister?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.
"I'm sure of it," said Fudge shortly.
"You know that the dementors have searched the whole village twice?" said Madam Rosmerta, a slight edge to her voice. "Scared all my customers away... it's very bad for business, Minister."
"Rosmerta, dear, I don't like them any more than you do," said Fudge uncomfortably. "Necessary precaution... unfortunate, but there you are. I've just met some of them. They're in a fury against Dumbledore — he won't let them inside the castle grounds."
"I should think not," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?"
"Hear, hear!" squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick, whose feet were dangling a foot from the ground.
"All the same," demurred Fudge, "they are here to protect you all from something much worse. We all know what Black's capable of..."
"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," said Madam Rosmerta thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought... I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead."
"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," said Fudge gruffly. "The worst he did isn't widely known."
"The worst?" said Madam Rosmerta, her voice alive with curiosity, "Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?"
"I certainly do," said Fudge.
"I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?"
"You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," murmured Professor McGonagall. "Do you remember who his best friend was?"
"Naturally," said Madam Rosmerta, with a small laugh. "Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here — ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!"
"Precisely," said Professor McGonagall. "Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course — exceptionally bright, in fact — but I don't think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers—"
"I dunno," chuckled Hagrid. "Fred and George Weasley could give 'em a run fer their money."
"You'd have thought Black and Potter were brothers!" chimed in Professor Flitwick. "Inseparable!"
"Of course they were," said Fudge. "Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily. Then they named him godfather to Harry. Harry has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him."
"Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.
"Worse even than that, m'dear...." Fudge dropped his voice and proceeded in a sort of low rumble. "Not many people are aware that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm."
"How does that work?" said Madam Rosmerta, breathless with interest. Professor Flitwick cleared his throat.
"An immensely complex spell," he said squeakily, "involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find — unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. As long as the Secret-Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Lily and James were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nose pressed against their sitting room window!"
"So Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.
"Naturally," said Professor McGonagall. "James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself... and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters' Secret-Keeper himself."
"He suspected Black?" gasped Madam Rosmerta.
"He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements," said Professor McGonagall darkly. "Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who."
"But James Potter insisted on using Black?"
"He did," said Fudge heavily. "And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed—"
"Black betrayed them?" breathed Madam Rosmerta.
"He did indeed. Black was tired of his double-agent role, he was ready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and he seems to have planned this for the moment of the Potters' death. But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Harry Potter. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed. His master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colors as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it—"
"Filthy, stinkin' turncoat!" Hagrid said, so loudly that half the bar went quiet.
"Shh!" said Professor McGonagall.
"I met him!" growled Hagrid. "I musta bin the last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me what rescued Harry from Lily an' James's house after they was killed! Jus' got him outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across his forehead, an' his parents dead... an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' motorbike he used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin' there. I didn' know he'd bin Lily an' James's Secret-Keeper. Thought he'd jus' heard the news o' You-Know-Who's attack an' come ter see what he could do. White an' shakin', he was. An' yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN' TRAITOR!" Hagrid roared.
"Hagrid, please!" said Professor McGonagall. "Keep your voice down!"
"How was I ter know he wasn' upset abou' Lily an' James? It was You-Know-Who he cared abou'! An' then he says, 'Give Harry ter me, Hagrid, I'm his godfather, I'll look after him—' Ha! But I'd had me orders from Dumbledore, an' I told Black no, Dumbledore said Harry was ter go ter his aunt an' uncle's. Black argued, but in the end he gave in. Told me ter take his motorbike ter get Harry there. 'I won't need it anymore,' he says. I shoulda known there was somethin' fishy goin' on then. He loved that motorbike, what was he givin' it ter me for? Why wouldn' he need it anymore? Fact was, it was too easy ter trace. Dumbledore knew he'd bin the Potters' Secret-Keeper. Black knew he was goin' ter have ter run fer it that night, knew it was a matter o' hours before the Ministry was after him. But what if I'd given Harry to him, eh? I bet he'd've pitched him off the bike halfway out ter sea. His bes' friends' son! But when a wizard goes over ter the Dark Side, there's nothin' and no one that matters to em anymore...."
A long silence followed Hagrid's story. Then Madam Rosmerta said with some satisfaction, "But he didn't manage to disappear, did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!"
"Alas, if only we had," said Fudge bitterly. "It was not we who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew — another of the Potters' friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper, he went after Black himself."
"Pettigrew... that fat little boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?" said Madam Rosmerta.
"Hero-worshipped Black and Potter," said Professor McGonagall. "Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rather sharp with him. You can imagine how I — how I regret that now..." She sounded as though she had a sudden head cold.
"There, now, Minerva," said Fudge kindly, "Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eyewitnesses — Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later — told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing, 'Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?' And then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens."
Professor McGonagall blew her nose and said thickly, "Stupid boy... foolish boy... he was always hopeless at dueling... should have left it to the Ministry."
"I tell yeh, if I'd got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn't've messed around with wands — I'd've ripped him limb — from — limb," Hagrid growled.
"You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid," said Fudge sharply. "Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after Black murdered all those people. I — I will never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street, so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggles screaming. And Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him... a heap of bloodstained robes and a few — a few fragments—"
Fudge's voice stopped abruptly as all of them blew their noses.
"Well, there you have it, Rosmerta," said Fudge thickly. "Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Black's been in Azkaban ever since."
Madam Rosmerta let out a long sigh.
"Is it true he's mad, Minister?"
"I wish I could say that he was," said Fudge slowly. "I certainly believe his master's defeat unhinged him for a while. The murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man — cruel... pointless. Yet I met Black on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark; there's no sense in them... but I was shocked at how normal Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought he was merely bored — asked if I'd finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the dementors seemed to be having on him — and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know. Dementors outside his door day and night."
"But what do you think he's broken out to do?" said Madam Rosmerta. "Good gracious, Minister, he isn't trying to rejoin You-Know-Who, is he?"
"I daresay that is his — er — eventual plan," said Fudge evasively. "But we hope to catch Black long before that. I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing... but give him back his most devoted servant, and I shudder to think how quickly he'll rise again."
"You know, Cornelius, if you're dining with the headmaster, we'd better head back up to the castle," said Professor McGonagall.
One by one, the adults all finished their drinks, stood up, and slipped into their cloaks. Madam Rosmerta disappeared behind the bar and the teachers headed out of the door.
As Harry finally slid back into his seat on the stool, he, Layla, Ron, and Hermione sat there in stunned silence, lost for words.