sam_storyteller (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-07 02:52 pm
sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-07 02:52 pm
Entry tags:
Stealing Harry, 7 of 11
"We are going," said Professor Snape as he led Harry down the now-empty corridors of Hogwarts the first weekend after school had ended, "to get you a haircut today."
Harry, trailing behind him, felt odd wandering through the nearly-empty castle without his usual long hair, but still wearing the glamour on his scar. "It never works, you know."
"What never works?"
"Haircuts," Harry said morosely. "Aunt Petunia used to give 'em to me all the time. They never worked. My hair always grew out again."
Professor Snape stopped and turned to regard him curiously. "Do you mean to say it grows like that on purpose?"
"Shouldn't it?" Harry asked.
"I had assumed your maladjusted guardian had something to do with it."
"Besides, Sirius said I could grow it long if I wanted," Harry added. "Like yours. Only I didn't tell him that part. He doesn't like you much."
"The feeling is mutual," Snape growled, leading him onward again.
"Why doesn't he like you?"
"I'm sure I couldn't say."
"Why don't you like him?"
"I'm sure I wouldn't be allowed to use words like that in front of you."
Harry pondered this as they walked, finally giving up. "What about Remus?"
"What about him?"
"Do you like him?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Small children who ask too many questions about things that don't concern them get turned into frogs," Snape said sharply.
"I wouldn't mind being a frog," Harry said contemplatively. "They get to swim all the time and hop and such."
"You'd mind very much having to live your whole life under a log, or on a lilypad."
"My friend Ron says if you hold a frog too long you can get warts."
"And what does your friend Ron have to say on the subject of haircuts?"
"Dunno," Harry answered. "I saw pictures of Remus and Sirius, they had long hair when they were at school. My dad didn't though. His hair looked like mine."
"Regrettably."
They wound their way across the Hogwarts grounds, down to the bridge that passed from the school through the Forbidden Forest to the main street of Hogsmeade, Harry asking his usual rapid-fire questions, Snape answering calmly but shortly. When they reached the steps of the barbershop, Harry stopped.
"You're just trying to make Sirius mad," he said, crossing his arms and fixing the professor with a defiant gaze. Snape looked down at him in surprise. "Cos you know he wouldn't let you do it if you asked him nicely."
"We don't have to cut your hair, Harry, if you'd rather not."
Harry considered this.
"I'll do it if you will," he said finally. Snape blinked.
"What?"
"If you get your hair cut, I will," Harry said.
"I have no need -- "
"Your hair's all long and greasy."
Snape paused.
"We are," he said slowly, "at some point, going to have to look up the definition of 'tact' together, Harry."
"If you get your hair cut I will," Harry persisted. Snape sighed.
"Entirely too little discipline at home," he muttered as they passed inside. He continued a low, internal monologue on Sirius' failings as a parent while they settled into chairs, and a pair of magical scissors suspended itself over Harry's head.
"Bit of a trim for young Master then?" a voice asked behind them, and a man emerged from the back room carrying two towels. Harry stared at the reflection of him in the mirror.
"Professor Snape," he whispered. "He's blind!"
"As a bat, young Master," the man said cheerfully. "Hasn't stopped me yet. Hallo Professor, your usual trim?"
"Something a bit different today," Snape said, and one set of scissors moved to hover above Harry's right ear. Harry noticed, only slightly disturbed by such things now, that the scissors themselves had eyes. He watched in fascination as a brush, with a single eye in the handle, floated over to join them, and the barber began conducting them as if they were a symphony. "The boy first, please."
"Oooh, a challenge," the blind barber continued. Harry closed his eyes tightly as the scissors began to snip. "Curly hair's always a bit difficult, isn't it lad? Friend of yours, Professor?"
"My nephew," Snape said, while the scissors and brush danced around Harry's head.
"And what'll it be for yourself today?" the barber continued. Harry wished he'd concentrate on controlling his scissors, and not on talking.
"The same as the boy."
The scissors stopped moving.
"The same as the boy...but that's nearly all your hair!" the barber blurted.
"You heard me."
"Well, damn me. You've done what his barber of seven years couldn't do, lad," the man said to Harry. "A proper haircut for Professor Snape, post-haste before he changes his mind -- "
"That will be quite enough, thank you," Snape snapped. "Please try not to lop off an ear in your excitement."
"Nosir, of course not, Professor Snape." The scissors left Harry to the mercy of a floating comb and a tin of mysterious ointment and moved on to Professor Snape. "So have you heard the news yet today?"
"News? I thought Hogsmeade seemed emptier than usual. Large Quidditch game somewhere, I suppose."
"Anything but, Professor! I just had it now over the Floo News Network -- ain't even in the papers yet, though no doubt the evening Prophet'll have something about it. That Lestrange woman's escaped from Azkaban!"
"Bellatrix Lestrange?" Snape's head whipped around so fast the scissors nearly did take off an ear. The barber tsked.
"S'right. Her what was You-Know-Who's left hand and all. They say she's stark raving mad."
"How?"
"Dunno, like. Alert just went out. People're locking 'emselves up, I can tell you that. Say it's a sign when You-Know-Who's leadin' supporter just up and walks out of Azkaban."
"Can't you go any faster?" Snape demanded.
"Now, then, Professor, there's plenty of anticipation's gone into this moment, you can't rush a good haircut." The man chuckled. "Ain't like she's going to come after yourself, now, is it? Reckon she's got some scores to settle with her own folk before she goes bothering good honest -- here now, hold still!"
Harry watched in fascination as the older man seethed under the scissors, rising as soon as they were finished and shaking his head to dislodge any loose hairs. The scissors had clipped his hair close to the skull, and Harry thought he looked like one of the old Roman wizards from Molly Weasley's history books. Snape paid the man carelessly, didn't wait for change, and led Harry quickly away from the shop, glancing over his shoulder every few feet.
"What's Azkaban?" Harry asked as they walked, trying to keep up. "Who's Bell...a...trix -- "
"Be silent," Snape answered. "I'm taking you back to the bookshop."
"But I've all afternoon -- "
"Not anymore."
As they approached the steps of the castle, Harry saw Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall waiting for them on the steps.
"I assume you've heard," Snape said as they approached. Harry saw Professor McGonagall hide a smile behind her hand.
"As have you," Dumbledore replied, leading them inside. "You will return with Harry, to ensure his safety on the other side of the floo network..."
"...of course, Headmaster..." Snape murmured.
"...bringing this with you." Dumbledore reached into his voluminous robes and pulled out a sealed parchment letter. "If you are needed there, you will remain; otherwise please return here at once. Harry is not the only one in danger from Bellatrix Lestrange."
"Longbottom," Snape breathed. "Of course."
"Indeed. Now, Harry..." Dumbledore was leading them, not to his own office, but to a close-by classroom with a hearth in it, "Professor Snape will go ahead of you to be there when you arrive."
Harry nodded, and waited while Snape stepped into the floo and vanished.
"Did you arrange his new appearance, Harry?" Professor McGonagall asked, quietly.
"Yes, Professor."
She smiled at him. "Good lad. Off you go then..."
He saw her exchange an amused if somewhat strained look with Dumbledore, which quickly faded from his view when he called out "Sandust Books!"
He stumbled out into the warm, familiar back room of Sandust, and felt Professor Snape catch his arm to keep him from tumbling over.
"Harry?"
He looked up and saw Sirius standing in the doorway, staring. "You're not supposed to be -- ah -- hah -- "
Harry watched Sirius point at Professor Snape, cover his mouth, and go into the sort of badly-hidden convulsions of laughter that he sometimes had when Remus did something silly without meaning to.
"What did you do to him?" Sirius asked, gasping for air.
"I did nothing to the boy -- "
"I wasn't talking to you -- bloody hell -- Remus, come have a look at what Harry did to Snape -- "
Harry saw Professor Snape's eyes flash with annoyance and scowled. "Sirius, stop making fun, something awful's happened," he chided.
Sirius stopped as Remus walked into the room, carrying a stack of books in his hands. He blinked.
"It's not that awful," he said. "I rather -- "
"Bellatrix Lestrange has escaped from Azkaban prison," Snape said sharply.
"Who is she?" Harry demanded. Sirius crossed to him and picked him up, forcing Harry to let go of Snape's robe.
"Someone very bad," he said softly.
"Where did you hear?" Remus asked, his voice tight and tense.
"Dumbledore. He's sent this," Snape added, passing them the parchment. "I imagine it's instructions."
Sirius, busy with Harry, nodded to Remus, who accepted the letter and slit it open. Snape waited expectantly.
"He says we're to stay here -- not here, but at my flat. Harry's not to leave the shop or the flat until we hear word. They'll run a story about her in the evening Prophet. We're to put extra wards on the flat again..." Remus' eyes widened slightly. "Dumbledore wants you to leave, Sirius."
"What?"
"You might be more of a target than Harry -- " Remus began, as Sirius freed a hand and snatched the letter from him.
"I'm not leaving my godson. Not again," Sirius said.
Snape cleared his throat. They both looked at him.
"If I might suggest," he said slowly, "You may be useful in locating her."
Sirius glared at him.
"If it is publicised that Sirius Black has joined the search..." Snape trailed off delicately. "If she is indeed bent on destroying you, in particular, then you make excellent bait, Black."
"So do you, Snape."
Snape closed his eyes, clenched his fists, and then re-opened them. "Put the boy down and come with me. Lupin can take him home."
"No. I'm not leaving Harry."
Remus touched Sirius between the shoulder blades, lightly.
"Go with him," he said, and Sirius turned, an almost accusatory look on his face. "Sirius, go with him. I'll take Harry home. We'll be safe."
"She killed Regulus," Snape said, voice slick and persuasive. "This is your chance -- "
"Don't talk to me about Regulus -- you -- you have no right -- " Sirius stammered.
"Regulus was my friend," Snape answered.
Sirius only released Harry, and then with great reluctance, when Harry reached for Remus' neck, wrapping his arms around it.
"Straight home," he said to Remus, who nodded.
"I'll put up new wards when I arrive. Don't worry about finding us, I'll find you."
Sirius nodded curtly and kissed Harry's head.
"Behave yourself," he said. "I'll be home tonight."
Harry glanced from his godfather to Snape and then back again, watching until they had both floo'd out to Hogwarts. Remus set him down but didn't release his hold on Harry's shoulder as they walked out into the front of the store. Harry was silent while Remus locked the doors, pulled down the blinds, and secured the till; it wasn't until they were out the back door and away that he felt he could speak.
"Who is that woman? Who's Regulus?" he asked.
"Not now, Harry," Remus answered. "Wait until we get home. I want you to be silent until we get home, all right?"
Harry nodded, wishing for Frog, or Padfoot -- something warm and comforting to wrap himself into. Remus made sure Harry walked just a little ahead, and he could feel Remus' eyes on him when he wasn't peering down side-streets and around corners.
Remus locked the door with extra energy when they were finally inside the flat.
"Come with me. From now until whenever Sirius comes back, you're not to be out of my sight," Remus said, leading him into the bedroom. Harry got up on Sirius' bed, crawling until he could sit next to Sirius' pillow, which smelled like his godfather.
"Normally," Remus said, fingers drifting along the shelves of books, "I would leave this sort of thing to Sirius, but it's best you know now." He began removing books, mostly thin handwritten manuscripts, the ones on the high shelves where Harry wasn't allowed.
"Why's everyone so afraid? Sirius is the best wizard in the world and so're you. And Professor Snape knows all sorts of things," Harry said, burrowing his feet under Sirius' blankets.
"It's down to family, I'm afraid," Remus sighed. "Bellatrix Lestrange was one of Voldemort -- "
"You-Know-Who?"
"Yes -- one of his inner circle. She was a very powerful woman, very evil -- like her husband. She's also Sirius' cousin."
Harry watched as Remus' deft fingers sorted through the books. "I didn't know Sirius had cousins."
"Yes -- you'll meet some of them someday, I think. One of them has a son about your age. Bellatrix...did some quite awful things. Sirius had a brother, too, named Regulus. Younger than Sirius, quite as brilliant, though not..." Remus paused, and looked at Harry. "I liked Regulus very much -- Sirius and he were close, once. But the Blacks, by and large, are not very nice people, Harry. They're a very old family, very prejudiced in their thinking."
"Not like Sirius."
"No, Sirius is certainly a sport. Regulus was too, in his way. He was one of -- one of You-Know-Who's followers as well. He tried to escape, because he decided he didn't like killing people." Remus looked down at his hands, holding the manuscripts. "Bellatrix killed him herself. Her own cousin...and that's not the worst of it -- I'm sorry, Harry, these are awful stories for you to hear. But necessary, for you to understand where Sirius comes from."
He set two books on his dresser, opening one of them.
"She was sent to Azkaban prison, a wizarding prison -- a horrible place, by all accounts. She went mad there, and now she's escaped."
Harry found that he was not particularly afraid, except because the adults were afraid, and that was only in an abstract way. He didn't fear this Bellatrix woman herself. Really, it was all like something out of an adventure novel, the sort Sirius gave him to read.
"And she might want to hurt you or Sirius. We don't know what she's thinking," Remus continued, opening the bottom drawer of the dresser and taking out several bottles. "Now, on short notice there's only so much I can do -- will you help me, Harry?"
"Can I?" Harry asked, sliding off the bed.
"You're going to have to. I think a Deception charm, a Misdirection Potion, and..." Remus pressed his palm flat to one page. "Well. One more."
Harry followed him as he took the bottles from the dresser into the kitchen and pulled a few more out of the cupboard, putting them in a saucepan to boil. He continued outside briefly as they laid herbs in the corners of the front landing and along the windowsills they could reach, Remus clutching his wand and chanting in Latin under his breath. Back inside, the flat smelled pungent, like some kind of strong tea, and Remus stirred the ingredients before adding more water and sitting down at the kitchen table.
"How's it work?" Harry asked.
"It's working already. The vapours fill the rooms, misdirecting anyone who comes near. We'll have to watch for Sirius," Remus added.
"As soon as we do the last spell, right?" Harry asked. Remus looked at him sharply.
"You may not want to watch it, Harry," he said slowly.
"I want to help."
"Have you ever seen blood?"
Harry was thoughtful. "I skinned my knees a lot when I was little."
Remus seemed to find this very amusing. "When you were little, of course. All right, well, if you want to close your eyes, you can. In the drawer by your elbow there's a white-handled knife with a silver blade. Bring it to me, please."
Harry did as he was told; it was a small knife, but Remus lifted a napkin out of another drawer, wrapping it around the handle, before he would hold it.
"You're going to learn, sooner or later, that blood is powerful magic, Harry. You and I are related -- your father was my second-cousin, two generations removed."
"Are we cousins?" Harry asked. Remus looked down at the knife.
"Sort of. Very distantly."
Harry laughed. "But you're old!"
"Thank you," Remus said with a small smile. "The reason you've been allowed to stay with us is that my blood, being your blood, protects us. It's an ancient magical quality that can't be overcome, except with great difficulty."
"What's it got to do with now?" Harry asked.
Remus held out his hand. "I'm going to cut myself, Harry, and put the blood on the doorway. This is very old, very frightening magic. You don't have to watch."
Harry looked at him carefully.
"You're just a child," Remus said, slightly desperately. "You shouldn't have to watch."
"Why's it always you?" Harry asked. Remus tilted his head. "Why're you always the one has to get hurt?"
"Harry -- "
"It's not fair," Harry said.
"No -- but nobody ever promised me life would be," Remus answered.
"I'll watch," Harry said. Remus nodded.
"You can close your eyes if you want," he repeated, walking into the foyer. When he saw Harry was resolutely standing behind him, he tightened his grip on the blade and drew it slowly across his left palm.
The cut wasn't deep, but Harry saw red blood well up, and Remus reached above his head, running his hand over the lintel of the door. That done, he cut across the index finger and wrote, above the drying red streak, NOMOS.
"Bandages," Remus said briskly, moving back into the kitchen and setting the knife in the sink. He seemed to relax once the silver blade was further away, and he dug one-handedly in the cupboard, coming up with white gauze. "Healing charms don't work well on me," he said, wrapping his hand and finger in the stuff and tying it off, biting the end to separate it from the roll.
"What's Nomos mean?" Harry asked. Remus tapped the bandages with his right hand to make sure they were secure, and began to run water over the knife. It had all been done so...efficiently.
"It's from the ancient Greek," he said. "It...means a number of things. It's part of the rules for the way they live, sort of. It's about...the way people are treated, protected. It's about providing shelter. The way we do for you. Now," he added, businesslike once more, "let's get something for you to read -- we're going to have to sit near the window so we can watch for Sirius, because odds are until he's been inside he won't be able to find the place."
He followed Harry even into his room to get the book (and Frog) and back out, into the living room. They settled into the couch, Remus with his legs propped up sideways so that he could look out, Harry on the end with Frog. When Harry looked up from his book, Remus was gazing out the window, rubbing the bandaged hand back and forth across his chin.
"What if she hurts Sirius?" Harry asked softly.
"She won't. Sirius is smarter than she is."
"But she killed his brother."
"Sirius isn't his brother."
"But what if she does?"
Remus was quiet for a while.
"Professor Snape will make sure she doesn't," he said finally.
"Professor Snape hates Sirius."
Remus bowed his head. "Perhaps. But that doesn't mean he won't protect him."
Harry turned to look at him. "Really?"
"Really," Remus said, absently, without explaining further. Harry was left to muse, in silence, on the contradiction.
***
And then...
...nothing happened.
The Aurors could find no trace of Bellatrix Lestrange. Sirius, doing all he could to look like unprotected bait, didn't even get a nibble from her. For three days he went out with the Aurors, under the careful (and magical) eye of Alastor Moody; he came back to the flat only briefly to sleep. He and Remus both lived on nerves, eating little, speaking little except to Harry, and never letting him out of their sight -- or out of the flat.
Harry slept in Sirius' bed, with Padfoot curled up on top of the blanket. Sandust bookshop remained closed so long that when Remus finally did leave Harry with Sirius to go check on it, half of the High Street business-owners cornered him to ask what was wrong. He excused it with an illness in the family, and fled back to their home.
He opened the door with a password, a key, and a tap with his wand on what appeared, to outsiders, to be a solid brick wall. One made enough noise these days just getting into the flat that usually anyone who came in could expect to be greeted by Harry and whoever was looking after him; when he opened the door into a silent room, his heart jumped into his throat.
"Shh," Sirius said quietly, and Remus breathed a sigh of relief. He was sitting on the couch in the living room, next to a bundle of blankets and pillows which looked like it might at some point have devoured Harry.
"Asleep in the middle of the day?" Remus asked softly.
"He was restless last night. I think he's having nightmares, but he won't tell me," Sirius answered, setting down his book and standing, rolling his shoulders.
"I didn't notice."
"Well, you sleep like the dead," Sirius answered with a grin, as Remus shed his coat and set his keys on the table. "Plus you're not the one he kicks at night."
"We could move his bed -- "
"I'm fine with it, he pulls on my fur or kicks for a little while and goes back to sleep," Sirius said. "Besides, it'd be more cramped than it already is."
Remus turned to agree with him, and found Sirius standing dangerously close.
"You can't give a man a little warning?" he said quietly, as Sirius slipped one hand over his neck, pulling him forward. The last word was almost against his lips --
"If I warned you, you'd run away," Sirius said into his mouth. Remus heard a whimper, realised it was him, and pulled back slightly.
Sirius followed, backing him into the table. Remus closed his eyes, tasted Sirius, felt his broad warm body. And bent a little, into it.
"See?" Sirius said, breaking the kiss. Remus felt an inappropriate blush crossing his face. Sirius was breathing hard. "Got to catch you by surprise."
Remus ducked his head, unwilling to scold, and Sirius sighed.
"You watch Harry -- I'll make lunch," he said resignedly. Remus dropped down onto the couch and poked the pile of blankets experimentally. Something deep inside it giggled sleepily.
***
And still nothing happened.
Three days stretched into a week, and then a week and a half. There weren't even any sightings of the woman. Slowly the tension in Sirius' shoulders began to ease, and Harry was allowed out of their sight as long as he was still in the flat. Remus began to talk of opening Sandust after Harry's birthday. Sirius was home more often.
Someone suggested that Bellatrix had drowned swimming to shore. Others thought perhaps her madness went so far that she was incapable of coming up with anything so complicated as revenge. The rest of the Wizarding World began to go about their business again, though still with an ounce of caution; people could be heard saying they wouldn't let their children out alone until she was captured.
Sirius asked for and got permission for them to take Harry to the Weasleys' for his birthday, although Dumbledore was quite worried. Remus received a private owl from him requesting that he be on special alert. It only made sense -- Bellatrix might be Sirius' cousin, but Remus had far more experience defending against the Dark Arts.
And, as Dumbledore reminded him -- not that he could ever forget -- most Unforgivable curses didn't work on a werewolf. The worst thing Avada Kedavra had done to Remus, during his dangerous days with the Order, was give him a two-day splitting headache.
Like an Auror, Remus had trained himself over the years to run towards danger instead of away from it. Not because he was willing to give up his life, but because it was bloody hard to take it away from him. Aconite in sufficient doses; silver; fire; other werewolves. Beyond that he was well-near indestructible, and that meant that if he got between Bellatrix and Harry, they had a pretty good chance of survival.
Which, as it turned out, was a good thing for all concerned.
***
The day of Harry's birthday, the first he could remember where someone else would care what the day was, dawned bright and sunny and noisy. Sirius, singing "Happy Birthday" at the top of his lungs, carried him, still in his pyjamas and squirming happily, to a breakfast table laden with food and brightly-wrapped gifts. There was a new bookshelf and books to go in it; two magical moving posters of Quidditch stars, a few Muggle toys, lots of sweets from Sirius, and one rather plainly-wrapped object in brown paper, as tall as Harry was -- a new Nimbus Racer Twelve, one of the finest brooms on the market.
Harry could barely eat his breakfast, he was so excited. He'd never been given the chance to tear wrapping paper before, or open cards meant for him and only him, or have Sirius tell him which gift to open next. There was a new wallet with ten whole Galleons in it, from Remus, and the sort of rugby shirt Harry liked...
There was more, too; a cloth-covered crate on one end of the table turned out to be a medium-sized terrarium with a muddy-blue snake drowsing lazily inside it, much to Harry's delight, and even a card from Professor Snape -- admittedly it was plain white, and merely gave instructions on the snake's care and feeding, but it did say Happy Birthday in quite small letters and that was all that really mattered.
"Are you going to take him out?" Remus asked, while Sirius tried not to scowl. Harry peered through the glass and shook his head.
"He's sleeping. I'll wait till he wakes up," he said decidedly.
"What're you going to name him?"
"Snakes don't have names," Harry said absently. "They're just called Snake."
Remus exchanged an amused look with Sirius. "All right, then. Do you like him?"
"Very much," Harry replied. "Almost as much as my racing broom."
Sirius smiled at that.
Remus opened Sandust for the morning, and several of the locals came past to wish Harry a happy birthday and make much of his nine-year-old self. Being nine was wonderful, Harry decided, and although he didn't see how he was sure being ten was going to be even better. For the moment, he forgot the deep worried lines in Remus' face and the constant if suppressed fear lurking at the back of Sirius' eyes, and allowed the future to stretch out before him, full of wonderful things -- holidays with his godfather, Hogwarts school, showing off how well he could take care of Snake to Professor Snape -- there would be flights on his new racing broom, Quidditch with the twins and one day at school with Oliver, and sharing sweets with Ginny and Ron. He'd get to find out what the Groundskeeper, Hagrid, was growing in his garden, and explore every nook of the school, and one day he'd graduate and be an animagus like Sirius and ride a motorbike too, and read all the books that Remus kept on the top shelf because they were Big Dangerous Magic.
But before all that he was going to have his first ever birthday party -- at least, that he could remember.
There were party hats. They were wizarding party hats, which meant that in addition to the usual cone they had a floppy brim and sometimes a feather or a few artificial cherries on them, but the point was that there were party hats, and there was a cake, and a jumper from Mrs. Weasley, a set of quill pens from Bill and Percy, a pan of fudge from the twins, and a copy of July's Broomsticks Aloft magazine, which featured an article on the Nimbus Racer 12, from Ron and Ginny (along with a handmade card). Everyone crowded around to watch Sirius show Harry how the Nimbus flew, and once confident he could steer it on his own -- "Boy's a natural," Sirius proclaimed proudly -- he was even allowed to take Ron and Ginny on rides, as long as he didn't go too far off the ground.
By the time the sun was setting, even Remus had relaxed a little. Molly and Arthur were sitting at the table with Bill, discussing his packing for India, while the rest of the Weasleys watched Harry try to hover without using his hands -- a feat that resulted in more than one grass-stain on his trouser legs, though there hadn't been any serious injury thus far. Sirius was spotting for him, and Remus was settled on the grass next to the table, keeping one ear on the India conversation, one on the flying lesson.
"Next year Harry'n'Ron can play and then we've nearly got a team," Fred was saying. "Reckon Ron for a Chaser?"
"Nah," George answered. "Your classic Keeper, Ron."
Ron, Remus noticed, was gazing longingly -- and a little enviously -- at Harry's new broomstick. Remus remembered that gaze. It was the look of a child who was happy for his friend, but who was also regretful that he could never have what they had, and would be forced to plead to borrow theirs. He remembered it a little too well. Seven children raised on a Ministry salary didn't leave much overage for whatever the youngest son wished he could have.
"Harry," he called, "Let Ron have a go on his own, there's a lad."
Sirius glanced quizzically at him but helped Harry off the broom, and Harry happily gave it to Ron, helping him get it into the air. Ron raised it a few more feet, until he was over their heads, and zoomed around the yard, laughing, Harry and Ginny following him on the ground. Sirius put his hands on his hips, watching.
"Never thought I'd see the day I trusted Sirius Black with a child," Molly said quietly. Remus leaned back, propping himself on the bench of the picnic table, and glanced up at her.
"He does well with the boy," Arthur added.
"Harry's very tolerant of our mistakes," Remus replied, with a grin. "After the way he was living, my little flat might as well be a castle." He watched Ron dismount and offer the broom shyly back to Harry; he could tell Molly was pleased when they saw him mouth "thank you" politely.
"Complete with moat?" Arthur asked.
"We've done everything we can. Sirius is restless, he's tired of being locked up. So am I. I -- "
Arthur and Molly looked down at the brown-haired man, but Remus' body had gone rigid, nostrils flaring, eyes wide and scanning the yard.
"It's her," he breathed, and he was up and running in a fluid motion that was so quick it took Arthur and Molly by surprise. Bill was after him in an instant, because Bill had seen it too -- a pair of eyes behind the hedge the bordered the yard.
"Harry, get down!" Remus cried, but it was too late -- A bolt of blue light flashed through the sunset sky and slammed into Harry's broomstick, pinwheeling it. Harry shrieked a sound that blazed itself into Remus' mind and, with that detached logic which comes while the rest of the brain is panicking, Remus thought that he now had new fodder for his nightmares.
Sirius dove but Remus, with werewolf reflexes, was faster; he caught Harry around the shoulders in a dive and rolled, curling his body protectively around the boy --
Green light burst behind his eyelids and he heard another scream, this time from Ginny -- a high, childish scream of fear. Pain ripped across his body. Killing curse, they'd tried the killing curse. Please god let it not have hit Ginny.
Then there were arms hauling him up. In the confused half-balance of the spinning world he could see Sirius charging forward after a flitting shadow. But only one, and suddenly he had the terrible certainty that Bellatrix was not alone.
"Sirius, no!" he shouted, as Sirius crashed through the hedge, an opening forming at a shouted word and a flick of his wand. He shoved Harry at Bill, shouted for him to take the boy inside, and pulled his own wand.
Another burst of light hit him off-centre as he turned, slamming into Bill, taking the brunt of the second killing-curse. The younger man collapsed, and Remus clutched at his head, gritting his teeth. He pulled Harry against him, steadying himself on the boy's shoulder, and looked up.
Peter Pettigrew stood between them and the door to the Weasley house.
Remus heard his own breath rattle in his throat. His wand lay on the ground a few feet away, and thank god Harry was behind his hip, because he was everything between Harry and Peter now.
"I knew he didn't kill you," he said, and was surprised at the roughness of his own voice, through the pain.
"Give me the boy and I won't kill you," Peter said.
"Peter -- Wormtail -- he can't mean anything to you. He's just a child."
"Give me the boy, Remus."
"You killed his parents, isn't that enough?" Remus pleaded. He did not let his eyes flick past Peter to the doorway, but he could see Arthur padding silently through it, wand out, waiting to get into range.
There was a shriek somewhere out in the fields, where Sirius was pursuing Bellatrix. Peter's eyes flickered. Arthur raised his wand --
In a heartbeat Peter had whirled to cast another curse, and Remus didn't wait to see if it was another bolt of green light. He picked up Harry bodily and flung them both sideways, around the corner of the house, running like a battalion of Death Eaters was after them. There was a gap between wall and hedge and he slid through it, desperate to be anywhere away from the house, to get Harry somehow to safety.
"Remus -- " Harry shrieked, and Remus realised he had the boy gripped by an arm and a hand on his hip, a painful hold for the child. He shifted Harry without missing a stride, though his head pounded and his legs were already protesting the run, plus the weight of a nine year old boy. Harry's arms wrapped around his shoulders --
And suddenly Sirius was there, matching stride, shouting that Bellatrix and Peter were giving chase, and they'd have to find somewhere to turn and fight. Remus slipped and slithered into a gully, releasing Harry roughly.
"Give me your wand," he said, and Sirius tossed it across as he covered Harry with his body, their years of Order training leaping to the fore.
But then there were two more bodies in the gully, and it was suddenly hands and hooked fingers and good god, Bellatrix very nearly had claws. She seemed ravaged by her time in Azkaban, hair cut to uneven lengths around her head and flying out like a harpy's. There was suddenly a glint of silver in Peter's hand, arcing towards Sirius, underneath him, and Harry screamed. And screamed, and screamed.
Remus watched in horror as Peter raised his face over the limp body of Sirius Black. His cheeks and hands were smeared with blood, and he held a small vial between two fingers.
"Good to see you, Moony," he said.
Remus scrambled for Sirius' wand and heard footsteps approaching; Peter looked up and, apparently not liking his odds, vanished with a crack, Bellatrix following a half-second later with an insane laugh.
Harry was still screaming.
Remus, fingers numb, scrambled across to Sirius, rolling him aside and lifting Harry away, conscious that the blood had not been Sirius', but dripped from a deep gash on Harry's shoulder. Arthur skidded to a stop, kicking dust over them, and Bill leapt down, rolling Sirius the rest of the way as Molly accepted Harry from Remus' hands. His tongue felt thick in his head as he stared at Bill, who was running his palms over Sirius' neck and chest, searching for -- for a pulse?
God please --
It had been short and brutal and Peter hadn't hesitated to use the killing curse on Remus --
"Missed him," Bill breathed. "He's just stunned. Dad -- "
Arthur slid down next to them, helping Bill haul Sirius up onto flat ground. Remus crawled up with their help, was promptly ill, and collapsed.
***
Sirius woke to a splitting, world-rending hangov --
Harry.
He didn't know where he was or who had wrapped his head in cotton wool, but he had to make sure Harry was all right. He rolled off the bed (bed -- always a good sign)...
...and fell over.
There were a few confused minutes after that, composed of hands lifting him, voices shouting insensible things at him, and something cold and wet smacking him in the face. When the confusion lifted he found himself seated on the edge of a mattress, a cold cloth being held to his face, and Ted Tonks physically restraining him.
"Harry's all right," he heard Andromeda's voice, and immediately the world was a better place. "Stay there. He's just in the next room with the Healer, I'll get him."
"Thought you were done for," Ted said, as Sirius pulled the cloth from his face. The older man gave him a cheerful smile. "You should've seen it when they brought you in. I thought Lupin was going to pass out again."
"Is everyone all right?" Sirius managed.
"More or less. Nasty gash your lad took. Nasty shock my Nymphadora had, too, she's the one answered the floo. Dunno that Lupin's right in the head yet, but I'm sure he's getting there."
"And here's our boy," Andromeda announced, leading Harry into the room. He broke into a run when he saw Sirius, and Sirius caught him around the waist, lifting him carefully into his lap, pulling his head against his chest. "The better for some rest, I'd say."
Sirius felt Harry shiver against him; he also felt a swath of bandages under his shirt, and pulled him back a little. The white bandages wrapped around Harry's left shoulder, arcing over his neck.
"Merlin, what did they -- " Sirius stared, but Ted put out a hand to stop him.
"Not around the lad," he said softly. He and Andromeda exchanged a glance. "Listen, there's food downstairs if you think you can walk, old man, and tea and all."
Sirius let Harry slip to the ground, but kept hold of his hand as he stood.
"Andromeda," he said slowly, as she gave him a supporting shoulder, "not that I'm not glad, but what are we doing at -- "
And then it really, really hit him.
"What," he repeated, "in the bloody hell are we doing at Grimmauld Place?"
"Safest place," Ted grunted. "Bout a million wards on this monstrosity. Arthur called us soon as they could, and we agreed to meet here. Andromeda found a Healer who'd come with a minimum of stories told -- old Black name's good for something, eh?"
"Damn Peter Pettigrew," Andromeda muttered. "I always knew that little kiss-up was going to cause trouble..."
They reached the bottom of the stairs, Sirius with his ears ringing, and emerged into a warm kitchen lit by what must have been every butt-end of a candle in the whole house. Andromeda and Ted pushed past him, walking towards the far end where a shy, frightened-looking Nymphadora was absently spilling the sugar as she added it to a cup for Bill. Remus sat near them, and --
Severus Snape, black robes swooping around him, was pacing back and forth. He looked older without the long, lank hair hanging about his face, and almost unrecognisable -- he hadn't seemed to change over the years from the weedy teenager he'd been, but now Sirius could appreciate that they had all grown up -- that they were adults now. Snape clearly had no idea how to deal with short hair, and it bristled a little around the edges; in fact he looked almost a little like James...
He stopped when he saw them, and then moved forward quickly. Harry took a hesitant step away from Sirius. Snape bent to examine Harry and Sirius noticed, to his shock, that the other man's hands were shaking.
He was sure he could detect sarcasm in Snape's tone and was nearly sure that Snape was saying something in that half-insulting way he had where he could take the most innocent of statements and make it into something hateful. But all of Sirius' attention was focused on the slight tremor of Snape's right hand as the pale fingers ran over Harry's cheeks, his shoulders, plucked up his wrists to examine his hands, pressed on his chest to make sure he was all right.
And then, tearing himself away from the odd phenomenon of Severus Snape showing some emotion that wasn't anger or hatred, he looked up as Snape stood to see badly-hidden fear in the man's dark eyes, tension in his jaw.
Sirius had not realised anyone else might love Harry the way he did, with no thought of self or pride, because Harry was Harry and you couldn't help love him. He knew Remus did, of course, but...Remus was...well, Remus liked everyone, it was only natural he'd take to the boy. In his mind Harry's visits with the Potions Master had been Snape's way of manipulating something in Sirius' life, to annoy and enrage him.
He glanced at Remus, who was sitting with his face in his hands, not shaking but looking quite shaken. And then he looked back again to Snape's trembling fingers. Harry was smiling up at them, looking from one to another with a gaze of polite bewilderment that he should be the subject of so much attention.
Something momentarily monstrous in Sirius told him that this was a new and interesting weapon he could use against someone who had been more or less his enemy for almost twenty years, and he hated himself. When good sense spoke up, he let it override the small, petty voice, and instead he thought to himself My god, Snape's actually human.
"Perhaps now someone will be kind enough to explain to me why my student nearly had his throat slit," he said, and Sirius was back to the old, smoldering rage at the utter insolence of Snape even existing.
"Pettigrew," Remus rasped from the table. He wrapped his hands around a chipped and dusty-looking teacup. "Peter and Bellatrix. They surprised us at the Weasleys' house."
"I told Dumbledore this party notion was a -- " Snape began wrathfully, but Sirius held up a hand and for once, the other man fell silent.
"If I don't sit down," Sirius said unsteadily, "I'm going to fall over. So your diatribe is going to wait."
Andromeda helped him to a chair across from Remus, and Harry followed. Ted put a hand on Snape's arm, pulling him across the other room with the promise of an explanation, and a request that Snape have a look at some really nasty Dark goblets that he wanted the good Professor's opinion on. Sirius noticed with amusement that both Bill and Nymphadora, recent students of Snape's, skittered out of his way quickly.
"Like to tell us what happened?" Andromeda asked quietly.
"I was about to say the same thing," Sirius replied. Remus pushed his tea across the table, and Sirius nodded his thanks before taking a sip.
"Molly Weasley floo'd us, said she didn't know who else she ought to call on. She called Dumbledore, too, once we'd gotten you here and called a Healer. When we arrived, Harry was bleeding, you were out cold, and Remus was in no condition to explain much of anything...the Headmaster sent Snape to help -- he hasn't been here long..."
"All right now?" Sirius asked Remus, who nodded.
"From what Bill tells me, he took two direct killing curses without missing a beat," Andromeda continued.
"Well -- yes -- " Sirius stumbled.
"It's all right, I've told her what I am," Remus put in gently. "Had to anyway, she tried to serve the tea in a silver service."
"Sorry about that," Andromeda murmured. "All I could find around this place, at first."
"Not at all." Remus gave her a crooked grin. "Adds flavour."
Sirius, whose worldview had just shifted to include the definite existence of Peter Pettigrew, the likely humanity of Severus Snape, and his own sudden presence in his childhood home, felt that this was all a bit much.
"I don't know what they were after," he said miserably.
"Harry," Andromeda supplied.
"No," Remus corrected. "Just part of him."
"That's very reassuring, Moony," Sirius muttered.
"Peter took a vial of his blood. I uh..." Remus hesitated. "I think he might have drunk some."
Andromeda looked vaguely horrified. Remus continued hurriedly.
"I, I think he would have killed him, but Sirius was on top of him and he...couldn't really get enough leverage."
"I don't remember that," Sirius muttered.
"No, you wouldn't," Bill said, joining them. Nymphadora hung back, vacillating between wanting to see the Dark things her father was showing to her Professor and wanting to be as far away from Snape as possible. "Tried to kill you too, but he missed. Barely. That's why you feel like a dragon trampled you."
"Two dragons," Sirius answered. Harry smiled at the mental image. "Is there a reason we've got him bandaged up like a Muggle, then?"
"Enchanted knife," Bill answered. "I think. Wouldn't heal up under a spell. Mum and Mrs. Tonks and I all tried, and the Healer too."
Sirius sat for a while. Nobody seemed to be willing to bother him, which made for a pleasant change.
"How did he know?" Remus finally asked. "How did they know?"
"Wormtail," Sirius muttered. "Bloody rat probably -- "
There was a thoughtful pause.
"Not all this time," Sirius said, horrified. "He hasn't been...not the Weasleys."
"Not us what?" Bill asked, glancing from one to the other. "What's he on about, Lupin?"
"I'll go," Remus said. "I can walk without thinking hard about it."
"Go where?" Bill demanded. "What's going on?"
"You should come too," Remus said. "I think I may have to replace Percy's rat."
"Scabbers?" Bill raised his eyebrows, as they walked towards the fire burning at one end of the kitchen. "Why -- I don't -- "
"I'll explain after we've gone," Remus said, and he and Bill vanished into the flame, back to the Burrow. Andromeda reached over and put one of her hands over Sirius'; they sat in silence until she cleared her throat softly.
"Hadn't seen you in a while," she said.
"I'm sorry."
"When we came through and saw you laid out on Molly Weasley's dining table like some kind of corpse -- "
"I'm sorry, Andromeda."
She lifted her hand and smoothed his hair. "Don't be angry with me, Sirius. I'm trying to tell you..." she sighed. "Listen, we were scared, all right? And it's...it's down to you and me now, really, there aren't many Blacks left. Everyone else is dead or Narcissa -- "
Sirius gave a snort of laughter. Andromeda smiled.
"Ted got some time off from work, and Nymphadora's not starting training until September, so we can stay here with you for a while," she continued. "If you are...that is, if you do want to sell us the place, we could start on cleaning and such."
"Yes -- of course..." Sirius paused. "Training?" he asked curiously. Andromeda flushed with pride.
"Dora got into the Auror's academy. Top NEWTs across the board. Ted's that proud."
"That's grand, Andromeda. Really and truly."
Andromeda smiled. "I'm just glad she survived Hogwarts," she murmured, as Nymphadora came back into the kitchen, followed by her father and professor. There was a clatter as Remus and Bill came tumbling out of the fire, Bill smacking into Nymphadora, Remus stumbling a few feet before straightening.
"I think we have a problem," he said, a small grey rat held firmly in one hand.
To the Next Part
Harry, trailing behind him, felt odd wandering through the nearly-empty castle without his usual long hair, but still wearing the glamour on his scar. "It never works, you know."
"What never works?"
"Haircuts," Harry said morosely. "Aunt Petunia used to give 'em to me all the time. They never worked. My hair always grew out again."
Professor Snape stopped and turned to regard him curiously. "Do you mean to say it grows like that on purpose?"
"Shouldn't it?" Harry asked.
"I had assumed your maladjusted guardian had something to do with it."
"Besides, Sirius said I could grow it long if I wanted," Harry added. "Like yours. Only I didn't tell him that part. He doesn't like you much."
"The feeling is mutual," Snape growled, leading him onward again.
"Why doesn't he like you?"
"I'm sure I couldn't say."
"Why don't you like him?"
"I'm sure I wouldn't be allowed to use words like that in front of you."
Harry pondered this as they walked, finally giving up. "What about Remus?"
"What about him?"
"Do you like him?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Small children who ask too many questions about things that don't concern them get turned into frogs," Snape said sharply.
"I wouldn't mind being a frog," Harry said contemplatively. "They get to swim all the time and hop and such."
"You'd mind very much having to live your whole life under a log, or on a lilypad."
"My friend Ron says if you hold a frog too long you can get warts."
"And what does your friend Ron have to say on the subject of haircuts?"
"Dunno," Harry answered. "I saw pictures of Remus and Sirius, they had long hair when they were at school. My dad didn't though. His hair looked like mine."
"Regrettably."
They wound their way across the Hogwarts grounds, down to the bridge that passed from the school through the Forbidden Forest to the main street of Hogsmeade, Harry asking his usual rapid-fire questions, Snape answering calmly but shortly. When they reached the steps of the barbershop, Harry stopped.
"You're just trying to make Sirius mad," he said, crossing his arms and fixing the professor with a defiant gaze. Snape looked down at him in surprise. "Cos you know he wouldn't let you do it if you asked him nicely."
"We don't have to cut your hair, Harry, if you'd rather not."
Harry considered this.
"I'll do it if you will," he said finally. Snape blinked.
"What?"
"If you get your hair cut, I will," Harry said.
"I have no need -- "
"Your hair's all long and greasy."
Snape paused.
"We are," he said slowly, "at some point, going to have to look up the definition of 'tact' together, Harry."
"If you get your hair cut I will," Harry persisted. Snape sighed.
"Entirely too little discipline at home," he muttered as they passed inside. He continued a low, internal monologue on Sirius' failings as a parent while they settled into chairs, and a pair of magical scissors suspended itself over Harry's head.
"Bit of a trim for young Master then?" a voice asked behind them, and a man emerged from the back room carrying two towels. Harry stared at the reflection of him in the mirror.
"Professor Snape," he whispered. "He's blind!"
"As a bat, young Master," the man said cheerfully. "Hasn't stopped me yet. Hallo Professor, your usual trim?"
"Something a bit different today," Snape said, and one set of scissors moved to hover above Harry's right ear. Harry noticed, only slightly disturbed by such things now, that the scissors themselves had eyes. He watched in fascination as a brush, with a single eye in the handle, floated over to join them, and the barber began conducting them as if they were a symphony. "The boy first, please."
"Oooh, a challenge," the blind barber continued. Harry closed his eyes tightly as the scissors began to snip. "Curly hair's always a bit difficult, isn't it lad? Friend of yours, Professor?"
"My nephew," Snape said, while the scissors and brush danced around Harry's head.
"And what'll it be for yourself today?" the barber continued. Harry wished he'd concentrate on controlling his scissors, and not on talking.
"The same as the boy."
The scissors stopped moving.
"The same as the boy...but that's nearly all your hair!" the barber blurted.
"You heard me."
"Well, damn me. You've done what his barber of seven years couldn't do, lad," the man said to Harry. "A proper haircut for Professor Snape, post-haste before he changes his mind -- "
"That will be quite enough, thank you," Snape snapped. "Please try not to lop off an ear in your excitement."
"Nosir, of course not, Professor Snape." The scissors left Harry to the mercy of a floating comb and a tin of mysterious ointment and moved on to Professor Snape. "So have you heard the news yet today?"
"News? I thought Hogsmeade seemed emptier than usual. Large Quidditch game somewhere, I suppose."
"Anything but, Professor! I just had it now over the Floo News Network -- ain't even in the papers yet, though no doubt the evening Prophet'll have something about it. That Lestrange woman's escaped from Azkaban!"
"Bellatrix Lestrange?" Snape's head whipped around so fast the scissors nearly did take off an ear. The barber tsked.
"S'right. Her what was You-Know-Who's left hand and all. They say she's stark raving mad."
"How?"
"Dunno, like. Alert just went out. People're locking 'emselves up, I can tell you that. Say it's a sign when You-Know-Who's leadin' supporter just up and walks out of Azkaban."
"Can't you go any faster?" Snape demanded.
"Now, then, Professor, there's plenty of anticipation's gone into this moment, you can't rush a good haircut." The man chuckled. "Ain't like she's going to come after yourself, now, is it? Reckon she's got some scores to settle with her own folk before she goes bothering good honest -- here now, hold still!"
Harry watched in fascination as the older man seethed under the scissors, rising as soon as they were finished and shaking his head to dislodge any loose hairs. The scissors had clipped his hair close to the skull, and Harry thought he looked like one of the old Roman wizards from Molly Weasley's history books. Snape paid the man carelessly, didn't wait for change, and led Harry quickly away from the shop, glancing over his shoulder every few feet.
"What's Azkaban?" Harry asked as they walked, trying to keep up. "Who's Bell...a...trix -- "
"Be silent," Snape answered. "I'm taking you back to the bookshop."
"But I've all afternoon -- "
"Not anymore."
As they approached the steps of the castle, Harry saw Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall waiting for them on the steps.
"I assume you've heard," Snape said as they approached. Harry saw Professor McGonagall hide a smile behind her hand.
"As have you," Dumbledore replied, leading them inside. "You will return with Harry, to ensure his safety on the other side of the floo network..."
"...of course, Headmaster..." Snape murmured.
"...bringing this with you." Dumbledore reached into his voluminous robes and pulled out a sealed parchment letter. "If you are needed there, you will remain; otherwise please return here at once. Harry is not the only one in danger from Bellatrix Lestrange."
"Longbottom," Snape breathed. "Of course."
"Indeed. Now, Harry..." Dumbledore was leading them, not to his own office, but to a close-by classroom with a hearth in it, "Professor Snape will go ahead of you to be there when you arrive."
Harry nodded, and waited while Snape stepped into the floo and vanished.
"Did you arrange his new appearance, Harry?" Professor McGonagall asked, quietly.
"Yes, Professor."
She smiled at him. "Good lad. Off you go then..."
He saw her exchange an amused if somewhat strained look with Dumbledore, which quickly faded from his view when he called out "Sandust Books!"
He stumbled out into the warm, familiar back room of Sandust, and felt Professor Snape catch his arm to keep him from tumbling over.
"Harry?"
He looked up and saw Sirius standing in the doorway, staring. "You're not supposed to be -- ah -- hah -- "
Harry watched Sirius point at Professor Snape, cover his mouth, and go into the sort of badly-hidden convulsions of laughter that he sometimes had when Remus did something silly without meaning to.
"What did you do to him?" Sirius asked, gasping for air.
"I did nothing to the boy -- "
"I wasn't talking to you -- bloody hell -- Remus, come have a look at what Harry did to Snape -- "
Harry saw Professor Snape's eyes flash with annoyance and scowled. "Sirius, stop making fun, something awful's happened," he chided.
Sirius stopped as Remus walked into the room, carrying a stack of books in his hands. He blinked.
"It's not that awful," he said. "I rather -- "
"Bellatrix Lestrange has escaped from Azkaban prison," Snape said sharply.
"Who is she?" Harry demanded. Sirius crossed to him and picked him up, forcing Harry to let go of Snape's robe.
"Someone very bad," he said softly.
"Where did you hear?" Remus asked, his voice tight and tense.
"Dumbledore. He's sent this," Snape added, passing them the parchment. "I imagine it's instructions."
Sirius, busy with Harry, nodded to Remus, who accepted the letter and slit it open. Snape waited expectantly.
"He says we're to stay here -- not here, but at my flat. Harry's not to leave the shop or the flat until we hear word. They'll run a story about her in the evening Prophet. We're to put extra wards on the flat again..." Remus' eyes widened slightly. "Dumbledore wants you to leave, Sirius."
"What?"
"You might be more of a target than Harry -- " Remus began, as Sirius freed a hand and snatched the letter from him.
"I'm not leaving my godson. Not again," Sirius said.
Snape cleared his throat. They both looked at him.
"If I might suggest," he said slowly, "You may be useful in locating her."
Sirius glared at him.
"If it is publicised that Sirius Black has joined the search..." Snape trailed off delicately. "If she is indeed bent on destroying you, in particular, then you make excellent bait, Black."
"So do you, Snape."
Snape closed his eyes, clenched his fists, and then re-opened them. "Put the boy down and come with me. Lupin can take him home."
"No. I'm not leaving Harry."
Remus touched Sirius between the shoulder blades, lightly.
"Go with him," he said, and Sirius turned, an almost accusatory look on his face. "Sirius, go with him. I'll take Harry home. We'll be safe."
"She killed Regulus," Snape said, voice slick and persuasive. "This is your chance -- "
"Don't talk to me about Regulus -- you -- you have no right -- " Sirius stammered.
"Regulus was my friend," Snape answered.
Sirius only released Harry, and then with great reluctance, when Harry reached for Remus' neck, wrapping his arms around it.
"Straight home," he said to Remus, who nodded.
"I'll put up new wards when I arrive. Don't worry about finding us, I'll find you."
Sirius nodded curtly and kissed Harry's head.
"Behave yourself," he said. "I'll be home tonight."
Harry glanced from his godfather to Snape and then back again, watching until they had both floo'd out to Hogwarts. Remus set him down but didn't release his hold on Harry's shoulder as they walked out into the front of the store. Harry was silent while Remus locked the doors, pulled down the blinds, and secured the till; it wasn't until they were out the back door and away that he felt he could speak.
"Who is that woman? Who's Regulus?" he asked.
"Not now, Harry," Remus answered. "Wait until we get home. I want you to be silent until we get home, all right?"
Harry nodded, wishing for Frog, or Padfoot -- something warm and comforting to wrap himself into. Remus made sure Harry walked just a little ahead, and he could feel Remus' eyes on him when he wasn't peering down side-streets and around corners.
Remus locked the door with extra energy when they were finally inside the flat.
"Come with me. From now until whenever Sirius comes back, you're not to be out of my sight," Remus said, leading him into the bedroom. Harry got up on Sirius' bed, crawling until he could sit next to Sirius' pillow, which smelled like his godfather.
"Normally," Remus said, fingers drifting along the shelves of books, "I would leave this sort of thing to Sirius, but it's best you know now." He began removing books, mostly thin handwritten manuscripts, the ones on the high shelves where Harry wasn't allowed.
"Why's everyone so afraid? Sirius is the best wizard in the world and so're you. And Professor Snape knows all sorts of things," Harry said, burrowing his feet under Sirius' blankets.
"It's down to family, I'm afraid," Remus sighed. "Bellatrix Lestrange was one of Voldemort -- "
"You-Know-Who?"
"Yes -- one of his inner circle. She was a very powerful woman, very evil -- like her husband. She's also Sirius' cousin."
Harry watched as Remus' deft fingers sorted through the books. "I didn't know Sirius had cousins."
"Yes -- you'll meet some of them someday, I think. One of them has a son about your age. Bellatrix...did some quite awful things. Sirius had a brother, too, named Regulus. Younger than Sirius, quite as brilliant, though not..." Remus paused, and looked at Harry. "I liked Regulus very much -- Sirius and he were close, once. But the Blacks, by and large, are not very nice people, Harry. They're a very old family, very prejudiced in their thinking."
"Not like Sirius."
"No, Sirius is certainly a sport. Regulus was too, in his way. He was one of -- one of You-Know-Who's followers as well. He tried to escape, because he decided he didn't like killing people." Remus looked down at his hands, holding the manuscripts. "Bellatrix killed him herself. Her own cousin...and that's not the worst of it -- I'm sorry, Harry, these are awful stories for you to hear. But necessary, for you to understand where Sirius comes from."
He set two books on his dresser, opening one of them.
"She was sent to Azkaban prison, a wizarding prison -- a horrible place, by all accounts. She went mad there, and now she's escaped."
Harry found that he was not particularly afraid, except because the adults were afraid, and that was only in an abstract way. He didn't fear this Bellatrix woman herself. Really, it was all like something out of an adventure novel, the sort Sirius gave him to read.
"And she might want to hurt you or Sirius. We don't know what she's thinking," Remus continued, opening the bottom drawer of the dresser and taking out several bottles. "Now, on short notice there's only so much I can do -- will you help me, Harry?"
"Can I?" Harry asked, sliding off the bed.
"You're going to have to. I think a Deception charm, a Misdirection Potion, and..." Remus pressed his palm flat to one page. "Well. One more."
Harry followed him as he took the bottles from the dresser into the kitchen and pulled a few more out of the cupboard, putting them in a saucepan to boil. He continued outside briefly as they laid herbs in the corners of the front landing and along the windowsills they could reach, Remus clutching his wand and chanting in Latin under his breath. Back inside, the flat smelled pungent, like some kind of strong tea, and Remus stirred the ingredients before adding more water and sitting down at the kitchen table.
"How's it work?" Harry asked.
"It's working already. The vapours fill the rooms, misdirecting anyone who comes near. We'll have to watch for Sirius," Remus added.
"As soon as we do the last spell, right?" Harry asked. Remus looked at him sharply.
"You may not want to watch it, Harry," he said slowly.
"I want to help."
"Have you ever seen blood?"
Harry was thoughtful. "I skinned my knees a lot when I was little."
Remus seemed to find this very amusing. "When you were little, of course. All right, well, if you want to close your eyes, you can. In the drawer by your elbow there's a white-handled knife with a silver blade. Bring it to me, please."
Harry did as he was told; it was a small knife, but Remus lifted a napkin out of another drawer, wrapping it around the handle, before he would hold it.
"You're going to learn, sooner or later, that blood is powerful magic, Harry. You and I are related -- your father was my second-cousin, two generations removed."
"Are we cousins?" Harry asked. Remus looked down at the knife.
"Sort of. Very distantly."
Harry laughed. "But you're old!"
"Thank you," Remus said with a small smile. "The reason you've been allowed to stay with us is that my blood, being your blood, protects us. It's an ancient magical quality that can't be overcome, except with great difficulty."
"What's it got to do with now?" Harry asked.
Remus held out his hand. "I'm going to cut myself, Harry, and put the blood on the doorway. This is very old, very frightening magic. You don't have to watch."
Harry looked at him carefully.
"You're just a child," Remus said, slightly desperately. "You shouldn't have to watch."
"Why's it always you?" Harry asked. Remus tilted his head. "Why're you always the one has to get hurt?"
"Harry -- "
"It's not fair," Harry said.
"No -- but nobody ever promised me life would be," Remus answered.
"I'll watch," Harry said. Remus nodded.
"You can close your eyes if you want," he repeated, walking into the foyer. When he saw Harry was resolutely standing behind him, he tightened his grip on the blade and drew it slowly across his left palm.
The cut wasn't deep, but Harry saw red blood well up, and Remus reached above his head, running his hand over the lintel of the door. That done, he cut across the index finger and wrote, above the drying red streak, NOMOS.
"Bandages," Remus said briskly, moving back into the kitchen and setting the knife in the sink. He seemed to relax once the silver blade was further away, and he dug one-handedly in the cupboard, coming up with white gauze. "Healing charms don't work well on me," he said, wrapping his hand and finger in the stuff and tying it off, biting the end to separate it from the roll.
"What's Nomos mean?" Harry asked. Remus tapped the bandages with his right hand to make sure they were secure, and began to run water over the knife. It had all been done so...efficiently.
"It's from the ancient Greek," he said. "It...means a number of things. It's part of the rules for the way they live, sort of. It's about...the way people are treated, protected. It's about providing shelter. The way we do for you. Now," he added, businesslike once more, "let's get something for you to read -- we're going to have to sit near the window so we can watch for Sirius, because odds are until he's been inside he won't be able to find the place."
He followed Harry even into his room to get the book (and Frog) and back out, into the living room. They settled into the couch, Remus with his legs propped up sideways so that he could look out, Harry on the end with Frog. When Harry looked up from his book, Remus was gazing out the window, rubbing the bandaged hand back and forth across his chin.
"What if she hurts Sirius?" Harry asked softly.
"She won't. Sirius is smarter than she is."
"But she killed his brother."
"Sirius isn't his brother."
"But what if she does?"
Remus was quiet for a while.
"Professor Snape will make sure she doesn't," he said finally.
"Professor Snape hates Sirius."
Remus bowed his head. "Perhaps. But that doesn't mean he won't protect him."
Harry turned to look at him. "Really?"
"Really," Remus said, absently, without explaining further. Harry was left to muse, in silence, on the contradiction.
***
And then...
...nothing happened.
The Aurors could find no trace of Bellatrix Lestrange. Sirius, doing all he could to look like unprotected bait, didn't even get a nibble from her. For three days he went out with the Aurors, under the careful (and magical) eye of Alastor Moody; he came back to the flat only briefly to sleep. He and Remus both lived on nerves, eating little, speaking little except to Harry, and never letting him out of their sight -- or out of the flat.
Harry slept in Sirius' bed, with Padfoot curled up on top of the blanket. Sandust bookshop remained closed so long that when Remus finally did leave Harry with Sirius to go check on it, half of the High Street business-owners cornered him to ask what was wrong. He excused it with an illness in the family, and fled back to their home.
He opened the door with a password, a key, and a tap with his wand on what appeared, to outsiders, to be a solid brick wall. One made enough noise these days just getting into the flat that usually anyone who came in could expect to be greeted by Harry and whoever was looking after him; when he opened the door into a silent room, his heart jumped into his throat.
"Shh," Sirius said quietly, and Remus breathed a sigh of relief. He was sitting on the couch in the living room, next to a bundle of blankets and pillows which looked like it might at some point have devoured Harry.
"Asleep in the middle of the day?" Remus asked softly.
"He was restless last night. I think he's having nightmares, but he won't tell me," Sirius answered, setting down his book and standing, rolling his shoulders.
"I didn't notice."
"Well, you sleep like the dead," Sirius answered with a grin, as Remus shed his coat and set his keys on the table. "Plus you're not the one he kicks at night."
"We could move his bed -- "
"I'm fine with it, he pulls on my fur or kicks for a little while and goes back to sleep," Sirius said. "Besides, it'd be more cramped than it already is."
Remus turned to agree with him, and found Sirius standing dangerously close.
"You can't give a man a little warning?" he said quietly, as Sirius slipped one hand over his neck, pulling him forward. The last word was almost against his lips --
"If I warned you, you'd run away," Sirius said into his mouth. Remus heard a whimper, realised it was him, and pulled back slightly.
Sirius followed, backing him into the table. Remus closed his eyes, tasted Sirius, felt his broad warm body. And bent a little, into it.
"See?" Sirius said, breaking the kiss. Remus felt an inappropriate blush crossing his face. Sirius was breathing hard. "Got to catch you by surprise."
Remus ducked his head, unwilling to scold, and Sirius sighed.
"You watch Harry -- I'll make lunch," he said resignedly. Remus dropped down onto the couch and poked the pile of blankets experimentally. Something deep inside it giggled sleepily.
***
And still nothing happened.
Three days stretched into a week, and then a week and a half. There weren't even any sightings of the woman. Slowly the tension in Sirius' shoulders began to ease, and Harry was allowed out of their sight as long as he was still in the flat. Remus began to talk of opening Sandust after Harry's birthday. Sirius was home more often.
Someone suggested that Bellatrix had drowned swimming to shore. Others thought perhaps her madness went so far that she was incapable of coming up with anything so complicated as revenge. The rest of the Wizarding World began to go about their business again, though still with an ounce of caution; people could be heard saying they wouldn't let their children out alone until she was captured.
Sirius asked for and got permission for them to take Harry to the Weasleys' for his birthday, although Dumbledore was quite worried. Remus received a private owl from him requesting that he be on special alert. It only made sense -- Bellatrix might be Sirius' cousin, but Remus had far more experience defending against the Dark Arts.
And, as Dumbledore reminded him -- not that he could ever forget -- most Unforgivable curses didn't work on a werewolf. The worst thing Avada Kedavra had done to Remus, during his dangerous days with the Order, was give him a two-day splitting headache.
Like an Auror, Remus had trained himself over the years to run towards danger instead of away from it. Not because he was willing to give up his life, but because it was bloody hard to take it away from him. Aconite in sufficient doses; silver; fire; other werewolves. Beyond that he was well-near indestructible, and that meant that if he got between Bellatrix and Harry, they had a pretty good chance of survival.
Which, as it turned out, was a good thing for all concerned.
***
The day of Harry's birthday, the first he could remember where someone else would care what the day was, dawned bright and sunny and noisy. Sirius, singing "Happy Birthday" at the top of his lungs, carried him, still in his pyjamas and squirming happily, to a breakfast table laden with food and brightly-wrapped gifts. There was a new bookshelf and books to go in it; two magical moving posters of Quidditch stars, a few Muggle toys, lots of sweets from Sirius, and one rather plainly-wrapped object in brown paper, as tall as Harry was -- a new Nimbus Racer Twelve, one of the finest brooms on the market.
Harry could barely eat his breakfast, he was so excited. He'd never been given the chance to tear wrapping paper before, or open cards meant for him and only him, or have Sirius tell him which gift to open next. There was a new wallet with ten whole Galleons in it, from Remus, and the sort of rugby shirt Harry liked...
There was more, too; a cloth-covered crate on one end of the table turned out to be a medium-sized terrarium with a muddy-blue snake drowsing lazily inside it, much to Harry's delight, and even a card from Professor Snape -- admittedly it was plain white, and merely gave instructions on the snake's care and feeding, but it did say Happy Birthday in quite small letters and that was all that really mattered.
"Are you going to take him out?" Remus asked, while Sirius tried not to scowl. Harry peered through the glass and shook his head.
"He's sleeping. I'll wait till he wakes up," he said decidedly.
"What're you going to name him?"
"Snakes don't have names," Harry said absently. "They're just called Snake."
Remus exchanged an amused look with Sirius. "All right, then. Do you like him?"
"Very much," Harry replied. "Almost as much as my racing broom."
Sirius smiled at that.
Remus opened Sandust for the morning, and several of the locals came past to wish Harry a happy birthday and make much of his nine-year-old self. Being nine was wonderful, Harry decided, and although he didn't see how he was sure being ten was going to be even better. For the moment, he forgot the deep worried lines in Remus' face and the constant if suppressed fear lurking at the back of Sirius' eyes, and allowed the future to stretch out before him, full of wonderful things -- holidays with his godfather, Hogwarts school, showing off how well he could take care of Snake to Professor Snape -- there would be flights on his new racing broom, Quidditch with the twins and one day at school with Oliver, and sharing sweets with Ginny and Ron. He'd get to find out what the Groundskeeper, Hagrid, was growing in his garden, and explore every nook of the school, and one day he'd graduate and be an animagus like Sirius and ride a motorbike too, and read all the books that Remus kept on the top shelf because they were Big Dangerous Magic.
But before all that he was going to have his first ever birthday party -- at least, that he could remember.
There were party hats. They were wizarding party hats, which meant that in addition to the usual cone they had a floppy brim and sometimes a feather or a few artificial cherries on them, but the point was that there were party hats, and there was a cake, and a jumper from Mrs. Weasley, a set of quill pens from Bill and Percy, a pan of fudge from the twins, and a copy of July's Broomsticks Aloft magazine, which featured an article on the Nimbus Racer 12, from Ron and Ginny (along with a handmade card). Everyone crowded around to watch Sirius show Harry how the Nimbus flew, and once confident he could steer it on his own -- "Boy's a natural," Sirius proclaimed proudly -- he was even allowed to take Ron and Ginny on rides, as long as he didn't go too far off the ground.
By the time the sun was setting, even Remus had relaxed a little. Molly and Arthur were sitting at the table with Bill, discussing his packing for India, while the rest of the Weasleys watched Harry try to hover without using his hands -- a feat that resulted in more than one grass-stain on his trouser legs, though there hadn't been any serious injury thus far. Sirius was spotting for him, and Remus was settled on the grass next to the table, keeping one ear on the India conversation, one on the flying lesson.
"Next year Harry'n'Ron can play and then we've nearly got a team," Fred was saying. "Reckon Ron for a Chaser?"
"Nah," George answered. "Your classic Keeper, Ron."
Ron, Remus noticed, was gazing longingly -- and a little enviously -- at Harry's new broomstick. Remus remembered that gaze. It was the look of a child who was happy for his friend, but who was also regretful that he could never have what they had, and would be forced to plead to borrow theirs. He remembered it a little too well. Seven children raised on a Ministry salary didn't leave much overage for whatever the youngest son wished he could have.
"Harry," he called, "Let Ron have a go on his own, there's a lad."
Sirius glanced quizzically at him but helped Harry off the broom, and Harry happily gave it to Ron, helping him get it into the air. Ron raised it a few more feet, until he was over their heads, and zoomed around the yard, laughing, Harry and Ginny following him on the ground. Sirius put his hands on his hips, watching.
"Never thought I'd see the day I trusted Sirius Black with a child," Molly said quietly. Remus leaned back, propping himself on the bench of the picnic table, and glanced up at her.
"He does well with the boy," Arthur added.
"Harry's very tolerant of our mistakes," Remus replied, with a grin. "After the way he was living, my little flat might as well be a castle." He watched Ron dismount and offer the broom shyly back to Harry; he could tell Molly was pleased when they saw him mouth "thank you" politely.
"Complete with moat?" Arthur asked.
"We've done everything we can. Sirius is restless, he's tired of being locked up. So am I. I -- "
Arthur and Molly looked down at the brown-haired man, but Remus' body had gone rigid, nostrils flaring, eyes wide and scanning the yard.
"It's her," he breathed, and he was up and running in a fluid motion that was so quick it took Arthur and Molly by surprise. Bill was after him in an instant, because Bill had seen it too -- a pair of eyes behind the hedge the bordered the yard.
"Harry, get down!" Remus cried, but it was too late -- A bolt of blue light flashed through the sunset sky and slammed into Harry's broomstick, pinwheeling it. Harry shrieked a sound that blazed itself into Remus' mind and, with that detached logic which comes while the rest of the brain is panicking, Remus thought that he now had new fodder for his nightmares.
Sirius dove but Remus, with werewolf reflexes, was faster; he caught Harry around the shoulders in a dive and rolled, curling his body protectively around the boy --
Green light burst behind his eyelids and he heard another scream, this time from Ginny -- a high, childish scream of fear. Pain ripped across his body. Killing curse, they'd tried the killing curse. Please god let it not have hit Ginny.
Then there were arms hauling him up. In the confused half-balance of the spinning world he could see Sirius charging forward after a flitting shadow. But only one, and suddenly he had the terrible certainty that Bellatrix was not alone.
"Sirius, no!" he shouted, as Sirius crashed through the hedge, an opening forming at a shouted word and a flick of his wand. He shoved Harry at Bill, shouted for him to take the boy inside, and pulled his own wand.
Another burst of light hit him off-centre as he turned, slamming into Bill, taking the brunt of the second killing-curse. The younger man collapsed, and Remus clutched at his head, gritting his teeth. He pulled Harry against him, steadying himself on the boy's shoulder, and looked up.
Peter Pettigrew stood between them and the door to the Weasley house.
Remus heard his own breath rattle in his throat. His wand lay on the ground a few feet away, and thank god Harry was behind his hip, because he was everything between Harry and Peter now.
"I knew he didn't kill you," he said, and was surprised at the roughness of his own voice, through the pain.
"Give me the boy and I won't kill you," Peter said.
"Peter -- Wormtail -- he can't mean anything to you. He's just a child."
"Give me the boy, Remus."
"You killed his parents, isn't that enough?" Remus pleaded. He did not let his eyes flick past Peter to the doorway, but he could see Arthur padding silently through it, wand out, waiting to get into range.
There was a shriek somewhere out in the fields, where Sirius was pursuing Bellatrix. Peter's eyes flickered. Arthur raised his wand --
In a heartbeat Peter had whirled to cast another curse, and Remus didn't wait to see if it was another bolt of green light. He picked up Harry bodily and flung them both sideways, around the corner of the house, running like a battalion of Death Eaters was after them. There was a gap between wall and hedge and he slid through it, desperate to be anywhere away from the house, to get Harry somehow to safety.
"Remus -- " Harry shrieked, and Remus realised he had the boy gripped by an arm and a hand on his hip, a painful hold for the child. He shifted Harry without missing a stride, though his head pounded and his legs were already protesting the run, plus the weight of a nine year old boy. Harry's arms wrapped around his shoulders --
And suddenly Sirius was there, matching stride, shouting that Bellatrix and Peter were giving chase, and they'd have to find somewhere to turn and fight. Remus slipped and slithered into a gully, releasing Harry roughly.
"Give me your wand," he said, and Sirius tossed it across as he covered Harry with his body, their years of Order training leaping to the fore.
But then there were two more bodies in the gully, and it was suddenly hands and hooked fingers and good god, Bellatrix very nearly had claws. She seemed ravaged by her time in Azkaban, hair cut to uneven lengths around her head and flying out like a harpy's. There was suddenly a glint of silver in Peter's hand, arcing towards Sirius, underneath him, and Harry screamed. And screamed, and screamed.
Remus watched in horror as Peter raised his face over the limp body of Sirius Black. His cheeks and hands were smeared with blood, and he held a small vial between two fingers.
"Good to see you, Moony," he said.
Remus scrambled for Sirius' wand and heard footsteps approaching; Peter looked up and, apparently not liking his odds, vanished with a crack, Bellatrix following a half-second later with an insane laugh.
Harry was still screaming.
Remus, fingers numb, scrambled across to Sirius, rolling him aside and lifting Harry away, conscious that the blood had not been Sirius', but dripped from a deep gash on Harry's shoulder. Arthur skidded to a stop, kicking dust over them, and Bill leapt down, rolling Sirius the rest of the way as Molly accepted Harry from Remus' hands. His tongue felt thick in his head as he stared at Bill, who was running his palms over Sirius' neck and chest, searching for -- for a pulse?
God please --
It had been short and brutal and Peter hadn't hesitated to use the killing curse on Remus --
"Missed him," Bill breathed. "He's just stunned. Dad -- "
Arthur slid down next to them, helping Bill haul Sirius up onto flat ground. Remus crawled up with their help, was promptly ill, and collapsed.
***
Sirius woke to a splitting, world-rending hangov --
Harry.
He didn't know where he was or who had wrapped his head in cotton wool, but he had to make sure Harry was all right. He rolled off the bed (bed -- always a good sign)...
...and fell over.
There were a few confused minutes after that, composed of hands lifting him, voices shouting insensible things at him, and something cold and wet smacking him in the face. When the confusion lifted he found himself seated on the edge of a mattress, a cold cloth being held to his face, and Ted Tonks physically restraining him.
"Harry's all right," he heard Andromeda's voice, and immediately the world was a better place. "Stay there. He's just in the next room with the Healer, I'll get him."
"Thought you were done for," Ted said, as Sirius pulled the cloth from his face. The older man gave him a cheerful smile. "You should've seen it when they brought you in. I thought Lupin was going to pass out again."
"Is everyone all right?" Sirius managed.
"More or less. Nasty gash your lad took. Nasty shock my Nymphadora had, too, she's the one answered the floo. Dunno that Lupin's right in the head yet, but I'm sure he's getting there."
"And here's our boy," Andromeda announced, leading Harry into the room. He broke into a run when he saw Sirius, and Sirius caught him around the waist, lifting him carefully into his lap, pulling his head against his chest. "The better for some rest, I'd say."
Sirius felt Harry shiver against him; he also felt a swath of bandages under his shirt, and pulled him back a little. The white bandages wrapped around Harry's left shoulder, arcing over his neck.
"Merlin, what did they -- " Sirius stared, but Ted put out a hand to stop him.
"Not around the lad," he said softly. He and Andromeda exchanged a glance. "Listen, there's food downstairs if you think you can walk, old man, and tea and all."
Sirius let Harry slip to the ground, but kept hold of his hand as he stood.
"Andromeda," he said slowly, as she gave him a supporting shoulder, "not that I'm not glad, but what are we doing at -- "
And then it really, really hit him.
"What," he repeated, "in the bloody hell are we doing at Grimmauld Place?"
"Safest place," Ted grunted. "Bout a million wards on this monstrosity. Arthur called us soon as they could, and we agreed to meet here. Andromeda found a Healer who'd come with a minimum of stories told -- old Black name's good for something, eh?"
"Damn Peter Pettigrew," Andromeda muttered. "I always knew that little kiss-up was going to cause trouble..."
They reached the bottom of the stairs, Sirius with his ears ringing, and emerged into a warm kitchen lit by what must have been every butt-end of a candle in the whole house. Andromeda and Ted pushed past him, walking towards the far end where a shy, frightened-looking Nymphadora was absently spilling the sugar as she added it to a cup for Bill. Remus sat near them, and --
Severus Snape, black robes swooping around him, was pacing back and forth. He looked older without the long, lank hair hanging about his face, and almost unrecognisable -- he hadn't seemed to change over the years from the weedy teenager he'd been, but now Sirius could appreciate that they had all grown up -- that they were adults now. Snape clearly had no idea how to deal with short hair, and it bristled a little around the edges; in fact he looked almost a little like James...
He stopped when he saw them, and then moved forward quickly. Harry took a hesitant step away from Sirius. Snape bent to examine Harry and Sirius noticed, to his shock, that the other man's hands were shaking.
He was sure he could detect sarcasm in Snape's tone and was nearly sure that Snape was saying something in that half-insulting way he had where he could take the most innocent of statements and make it into something hateful. But all of Sirius' attention was focused on the slight tremor of Snape's right hand as the pale fingers ran over Harry's cheeks, his shoulders, plucked up his wrists to examine his hands, pressed on his chest to make sure he was all right.
And then, tearing himself away from the odd phenomenon of Severus Snape showing some emotion that wasn't anger or hatred, he looked up as Snape stood to see badly-hidden fear in the man's dark eyes, tension in his jaw.
Sirius had not realised anyone else might love Harry the way he did, with no thought of self or pride, because Harry was Harry and you couldn't help love him. He knew Remus did, of course, but...Remus was...well, Remus liked everyone, it was only natural he'd take to the boy. In his mind Harry's visits with the Potions Master had been Snape's way of manipulating something in Sirius' life, to annoy and enrage him.
He glanced at Remus, who was sitting with his face in his hands, not shaking but looking quite shaken. And then he looked back again to Snape's trembling fingers. Harry was smiling up at them, looking from one to another with a gaze of polite bewilderment that he should be the subject of so much attention.
Something momentarily monstrous in Sirius told him that this was a new and interesting weapon he could use against someone who had been more or less his enemy for almost twenty years, and he hated himself. When good sense spoke up, he let it override the small, petty voice, and instead he thought to himself My god, Snape's actually human.
"Perhaps now someone will be kind enough to explain to me why my student nearly had his throat slit," he said, and Sirius was back to the old, smoldering rage at the utter insolence of Snape even existing.
"Pettigrew," Remus rasped from the table. He wrapped his hands around a chipped and dusty-looking teacup. "Peter and Bellatrix. They surprised us at the Weasleys' house."
"I told Dumbledore this party notion was a -- " Snape began wrathfully, but Sirius held up a hand and for once, the other man fell silent.
"If I don't sit down," Sirius said unsteadily, "I'm going to fall over. So your diatribe is going to wait."
Andromeda helped him to a chair across from Remus, and Harry followed. Ted put a hand on Snape's arm, pulling him across the other room with the promise of an explanation, and a request that Snape have a look at some really nasty Dark goblets that he wanted the good Professor's opinion on. Sirius noticed with amusement that both Bill and Nymphadora, recent students of Snape's, skittered out of his way quickly.
"Like to tell us what happened?" Andromeda asked quietly.
"I was about to say the same thing," Sirius replied. Remus pushed his tea across the table, and Sirius nodded his thanks before taking a sip.
"Molly Weasley floo'd us, said she didn't know who else she ought to call on. She called Dumbledore, too, once we'd gotten you here and called a Healer. When we arrived, Harry was bleeding, you were out cold, and Remus was in no condition to explain much of anything...the Headmaster sent Snape to help -- he hasn't been here long..."
"All right now?" Sirius asked Remus, who nodded.
"From what Bill tells me, he took two direct killing curses without missing a beat," Andromeda continued.
"Well -- yes -- " Sirius stumbled.
"It's all right, I've told her what I am," Remus put in gently. "Had to anyway, she tried to serve the tea in a silver service."
"Sorry about that," Andromeda murmured. "All I could find around this place, at first."
"Not at all." Remus gave her a crooked grin. "Adds flavour."
Sirius, whose worldview had just shifted to include the definite existence of Peter Pettigrew, the likely humanity of Severus Snape, and his own sudden presence in his childhood home, felt that this was all a bit much.
"I don't know what they were after," he said miserably.
"Harry," Andromeda supplied.
"No," Remus corrected. "Just part of him."
"That's very reassuring, Moony," Sirius muttered.
"Peter took a vial of his blood. I uh..." Remus hesitated. "I think he might have drunk some."
Andromeda looked vaguely horrified. Remus continued hurriedly.
"I, I think he would have killed him, but Sirius was on top of him and he...couldn't really get enough leverage."
"I don't remember that," Sirius muttered.
"No, you wouldn't," Bill said, joining them. Nymphadora hung back, vacillating between wanting to see the Dark things her father was showing to her Professor and wanting to be as far away from Snape as possible. "Tried to kill you too, but he missed. Barely. That's why you feel like a dragon trampled you."
"Two dragons," Sirius answered. Harry smiled at the mental image. "Is there a reason we've got him bandaged up like a Muggle, then?"
"Enchanted knife," Bill answered. "I think. Wouldn't heal up under a spell. Mum and Mrs. Tonks and I all tried, and the Healer too."
Sirius sat for a while. Nobody seemed to be willing to bother him, which made for a pleasant change.
"How did he know?" Remus finally asked. "How did they know?"
"Wormtail," Sirius muttered. "Bloody rat probably -- "
There was a thoughtful pause.
"Not all this time," Sirius said, horrified. "He hasn't been...not the Weasleys."
"Not us what?" Bill asked, glancing from one to the other. "What's he on about, Lupin?"
"I'll go," Remus said. "I can walk without thinking hard about it."
"Go where?" Bill demanded. "What's going on?"
"You should come too," Remus said. "I think I may have to replace Percy's rat."
"Scabbers?" Bill raised his eyebrows, as they walked towards the fire burning at one end of the kitchen. "Why -- I don't -- "
"I'll explain after we've gone," Remus said, and he and Bill vanished into the flame, back to the Burrow. Andromeda reached over and put one of her hands over Sirius'; they sat in silence until she cleared her throat softly.
"Hadn't seen you in a while," she said.
"I'm sorry."
"When we came through and saw you laid out on Molly Weasley's dining table like some kind of corpse -- "
"I'm sorry, Andromeda."
She lifted her hand and smoothed his hair. "Don't be angry with me, Sirius. I'm trying to tell you..." she sighed. "Listen, we were scared, all right? And it's...it's down to you and me now, really, there aren't many Blacks left. Everyone else is dead or Narcissa -- "
Sirius gave a snort of laughter. Andromeda smiled.
"Ted got some time off from work, and Nymphadora's not starting training until September, so we can stay here with you for a while," she continued. "If you are...that is, if you do want to sell us the place, we could start on cleaning and such."
"Yes -- of course..." Sirius paused. "Training?" he asked curiously. Andromeda flushed with pride.
"Dora got into the Auror's academy. Top NEWTs across the board. Ted's that proud."
"That's grand, Andromeda. Really and truly."
Andromeda smiled. "I'm just glad she survived Hogwarts," she murmured, as Nymphadora came back into the kitchen, followed by her father and professor. There was a clatter as Remus and Bill came tumbling out of the fire, Bill smacking into Nymphadora, Remus stumbling a few feet before straightening.
"I think we have a problem," he said, a small grey rat held firmly in one hand.
To the Next Part
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(Anonymous) 2005-09-16 03:02 am (UTC)(link)Nicely done! Just the way a child would say it. You are an exceptional writer.
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Something momentarily monstrous in Sirius told him that this was a new and interesting weapon he could use against someone who had been more or less his enemy for almost twenty years, and he hated himself. When good sense spoke up, he let it override the small, petty voice, and insead he thought to himself My god, Snape's actually human.
might also want to capitalize God, considering that from context it's the god that's generally capitalized, but that's a side note.
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i could be wrong in that but he does that on all of his stories that i've read, thus far.
oh and by the way, sam... you write action much better than Rowling does. Her OoP MoM scenes was a big confusing jumbled mess.
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Thank you, too! I hate writing action so I'm glad at least it comes out well!
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Arr, but I hate being critical of a story I enjoy so very much =)
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Also, at this point in the story, the Wolfsbane potion is still being tested.
Mudbloods
(Anonymous) 2008-06-04 01:59 am (UTC)(link)but i totally agree.
and this story is awesome.
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If they were two generation's removed, just, you know, add another great to everything.
/end useless knowledge.
I LOVE YOUR SNAPE! And Remus and Sirius. Again, only Remus and Sirius I'll read (just not into guyslash, because of the character assassination; yours is so *real* on the relationship thing, gah, love).
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;_; No kidding.
Stealing Harry, 18 - 19 of 28
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That's all. Just me being nit picky. But I love it! *thumbs up*
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I go back and forth, charlie versus bill. I rewrote it for a while, then re-rewrote it....
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(Anonymous) 2007-07-31 03:15 pm (UTC)(link)I love that.
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I love that.
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Ron, Remus noticed, was gazing longingly -- and a little enviously -- at Harry's new broomstick. Remus remembered that gaze. It was the look of a child who was happy for his friend, but who was also regretful that he could never have what they had, and would be forced to plead to borrow theirs. He remembered it a little too well.
Seven children raised on a Ministry salary didn't leave much overage for whatever the youngest son wished he could have.
"Harry," he called, "Let Ron have a go on his own, there's a lad.")
I like that part.
(Severus Snape, black robes swooping around him, was pacing back and forth. He looked older without the long, lank hair hanging about his face, and almost unrecognisable -- he hadn't seemed to change over the years from the weedy teenager he'd been, but now Sirius could appreciate that they had all grown up -- that they were adults now. Snape clearly had no idea how to deal with short hair, and it bristled a little around the edges; in fact he looked almost a little like James...
When he saw them, he stopped, and then moved forward quickly. Harry took a hesitant step away from Sirius, who let go of him reluctantly. Snape bent to examine Harry and Sirius noticed suddenly, to his shock, that the other man's hands were shaking.
He was sure he could detect sarcasm in Snape's tone and was nearly sure that Snape was saying something in that half-insulting way he had where he could take the most innocent of statements and make it into something hateful, but all of Sirius' attention was focused on the slight tremor of Snape's right hand as the pale fingers ran over Harry's cheeks, his shoulders, plucked up his wrists to examine his hands, pressed on his chest to make sure he was all right.
And then, tearing himself away from the odd phenomenon of Severus Snape showing some emotion that wasn't anger or hatred, he looked up as Snape stood to see badly-hidden fear in the man's dark eyes, tension in his jaw.
Sirius had not realised anyone else might love Harry the way he did, with no thought of self or pride, because Harry was Harry and you couldn't help love him. He knew Remus did, of course, but...Remus was...well, Remus liked everyone, it was only natural he'd take to the boy. )
Snape and Harry, cute.
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I love your Snape so much.
Remus dropped down onto the couch, and poked the pile of blankets experimentally. Something deep inside it giggled sleepily.
So... what's up with the little rat? Scabbers isn't Wormtail or what?
makes me cry...
(Anonymous) 2008-01-13 12:41 am (UTC)(link)if only this were true**sob**
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Plus, youngin' Harry is adorable. ABSOLUTELY. ADORABLE.
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(Anonymous) 2009-08-03 05:25 pm (UTC)(link)Anyway. This was great. I loved it.
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Lovely story by the way. I love how slow and frustrating Remus and Sirius' relationship develops. :D
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But I am disappointed that you changed the dynamic of the wizarding world by making Remus almost immune to the killing curse. Everything else so far has been wonderful and I do intend to continue reading, but I had to stop and wonder when I read that.
Thanks for a good read so far, other wise!
P.S. I assume the Dursley's are just trying to forget about Harry during all of this?