Tuesday 4th April 1989.
"NEXT!"
The young secretary looked up at the order and smiled at him, gesturing inside the open office.
Remus stood and brushed himself down, making sure he had a firm grip on the manila folder he'd brought along as he stepped inside the office, finally feeling the weight of the eyes of everyone in the Bull Pit leaving him. The delights of being a werewolf in London once more. He gave a soft sigh as he stepped forward and waited to be acknowledged.
"Sit," the figure stated and pointed absently at the chair in front of him without sending him a single glance.
Remus quickly complied, his eyes drifting across the room behind the figure as they continued writing furiously at the desk. Several half-open boxes were stacked beside more open filing cabinets. A handful of awards had been hung in place on the rear wall shouting the identity of the room's occupant and their proficiency at their job.
His focus was drawn back to the figure as she finished writing and slapped the thick parchment into her outbox, where it self-folded and took off into the corridor.
"What do you want? Finally done wallowing in booze on the continent?"
"Ouch. A pleasure to see you again too, Amelia."
"Dispense with the pleasantries, Lupin. I'm busy." Amelia Bones growled, "Ashton might have been a fine Auror, but he was shitehouse at paperwork. I've got a department that's backlogged seven months on vital records and is criminally underfunded. Barty may have been a bastard, but at least he got his bloody paperwork done. So I've no time for small talk."
Remus nodded. While Bones had been a few years their senior at Hogwarts, she was always a straight shooter. A talent that likely saw her elevation to head of the department at her relatively young age. He opened the folder and placed the paperwork on Amelia's desk.
She grabbed it and began flicking through it immediately. "Three animagus registration forms, a handful of newspaper clippings and outdated arrest records." Her eyes flicked up to him, still looking disinterested, "Summarise."
"Sirius Black is innocent. Had he ever received a trial that would have become obvious."
"And the forms?" She held the three pieces of parchment aloft. "Only one of these is signed."
"I was recently allowed into a safe deposit box that contained some tasks left by an old friend. Seems James wanted to register posthumously. He was a naughty boy after all."
Bones eyed him closely. "And the other two?"
"One for the man currently relaxing in the Ministry's island getaway. I'm sure he'll be happy to confirm it and sign. The other, well, let's say I'm close to tracking the true traitor down. Once I do, I'll happily hand him over and let bureaucracy take its course."
"A rat? Odd form." Bones mumbled, taking a closer look at the unsigned forms. "Seriously? A grim? I don't have time for jokes, Lupin."
"Not a joke, Amelia. I've spent ages trying to find proof." Remus replied, trying not to show the shame he felt that ages only meant months and not the years that Sirius had deserved from his friend. "I'm finally close and thought that you would like a heads-up. I've no intention of stepping on anyone's toes in the process. Especially not ones that are already angry at me it seems." He eyed her carefully but Amelia just stared back.
"Even if I believed you, Lupin. I'm not about to take your word about your former best friend."
"Current best friend." Remus corrected, ignoring just how sad a statement that was. "And I don't recall asking you to do anything. Simply passing on the evidence that I have for now."
"Well, you've passed it, I'm still busy."
Though clearly a dismissal, Remus noted that the paperwork was still sitting on her desk and hadn't been dumped yet, leading him to smile.
"That you are. Good day, Amelia."
Ameilia grunted a reply and shifted the papers into a small pile in the corner of her desk, moving back to the work she had been doing. As he stepped back into the hall and all the Aurors began watching him once more, Remus was startled by a shout from behind him.
"Sarah! Find Shack and tell him to get his arse in here. ASAP!" Bones shouted.
"Yes, ma'am."
"And stop calling me MA'AM!"
"Yes… Miss?"
Silence reigned for several moments before Bones quietly groaned, "Find Shack."
Remus smiled at the antics behind him. He'd not expected Amelia to offer anything in their meeting. She had no vested interest in digging into a case half a decade closed while she was settling into her relatively new role. But Remus had felt the need to inform her anyway. It was never a good idea to have the head of law enforcement angry with you. Not when the entire force was already watching you like a fox in the hen house.
He sighed as the grate closed over the elevator and the eyes were once more blocked from view. Richard had been trying for months to get him to see the lighter side of his curse. Even tried using soft words for it to make it sound less of a burden than it was. But stepping one foot back in magical Britain was enough to show he'd never be accepted as a member of this society.
A few deep breaths centred him once more as he stepped off the lift onto level six and moved on to his next task.
ϟ
Amelia slumped heavily in her seat, stretching back against the leather as she tried in vain to clear the cramp in her lower back. If she ever saw Ashton again he'd get a punch in the nose. No wonder he immediately left for warmer climates upon his retirement. She wasn't even making a dent in this pile of crap he'd left her.
A knock at the open door drew her eye. "You called, boss?" The deep voice sounded.
Amelia smirked at her former partner. "Enjoying that, Shack?"
"Immensely." He smirked, nodding at the mounds of paperwork. "Better you than me."
"Bite me." She replied as he sat opposite her. She tapped the thin folder to her right as she continued. "Got a visitor today, seems to think there might be something screwy with an old case. I need you to gather everything we have on the case, review it and give me a summary. I don't have time to bother, not with all of this to clear up."
"Sure, boss. What's the file?"
"Black, Sirius. Multiple homicide. Major Statute breach. Conspiracy to commit murder."
Kingsley's face darkened. "I'm familiar."
"Former friend?"
"Former ally. Or so I thought. He was part of Albus's Order during the war. Back when you were still in the academy." He ended with a smirk.
"Shut up. Or I'll retire and recommend you for this mess."
"I'd have to accept the job." He laughed.
"Then accept this job." She tossed the tiny folder at the Auror. It was nice to have some levity to break up her day now and then. "I know I can trust you to be thorough. And that the former association won't colour your work like some."
Kingsley raised an eyebrow at her as he glanced over the sheets in the folder. "Legit?"
"That's what I want you to find out. Now get."
The man stood quickly and gave her a firm nod. "Boss."
Kingsley laughed deeply as he walked away from her as she scowled. While they'd only partnered for a few short years after she finished at the academy, Shack was a hell of a partner. Damned fine Auror too, one who actually finished their paperwork. Amelia glared at the pile that didn't seem to be getting any smaller. At least his summary would be just that.
These stupid forms would be getting an overhaul. Just as soon as she could see the surface of her desk again.
ϟ
Sunday 9th April 1989.
"Mr Lupin… would you like to tell the Nation how you managed to get a perfect copy of the floorplans for the building?" Ragnok asked, looking in stunned disbelief over the plans before him.
"The Ministry makes the same mistakes that most of the magical world does. They assume someone looking to steal information would use magic to do so."
"But you didn't reproduce this from memory, surely?" Farkor questioned, running a claw over the glossy surface of the plans.
Remus smiled at the pair. They'd been enthralled by the fact he'd managed to walk out of the Ministry with a perfect reproduction of the floorplan of the 'Burrow' from the Floo Registration Office since he arrived. Lily would have been delighted to watch such behaviour.
He pulled the culprit free from his jacket and laid it atop the plans. "A simple mechanical Muggle camera. Disposable versions can be bought just about anywhere for a few bob. This particular one belonged to the family of an old friend. Light goes in the front, and makes an 'impression' of sorts on the film inside. There are places that 'develop' that impression into the picture before you. Simple."
"Fascinating," Ragnok whispered, clearly filing the information away for further study.
While magicals had been using the technology for years, their version, like everything they copied off Muggles, was swimming in magic. It was how pictures taken with such cameras moved like their portrait counterparts. And magic leaves traces. Anything that allowed you to gather information on an enemy without being detected was certainly of interest to the Nation.
Remus lobbed a heavy bag of gold onto the table, attempting to move the conversation forward. "Your turn."
Ragnok straightened and nodded to Farkor. The younger goblin withdrew a large set of roughly drawn plans, and glancing at a smirking Remus, laid them beside his own copy. While the layout appeared mostly the same, the dimensions were clearly drawn by hand. And very rapidly at that.
"Sneak assessed the building over the past two weeks. It's hard to be absolutely certain with the children still at Hogwarts, but he seemed fairly certain that this room was the one we want." Farkor stated, indicating a room on the second floor. "It's the most orderly of the group, and the contents match the profile of the boy. Opposite are the Twins. Underneath the girl and above the two eldest share a room."
Remus nodded along as he used his wand to add the detail to his own plan. Being on the second floor would complicate matters. Especially given that the rooms above and beside were currently occupied, making any undetected internal exploration before school let out much harder. There were not many times Remus had cause to celebrate the stiff bureaucracy of the Ministry, but their insistence on a full floorplan in order to connect a Floo was a boon to them today.
"Non-human occupants?"
"The eldest has an owl. Unknown species as it's with them at Hogwarts. The snooty one has a pet rat, also currently at the school. The only other non-human presently is a ghoul that they refuse to evict occupying the attic." Farkor seemed truly disgusted at the prospect of allowing a ghoul to live in his home.
"You have paid for the service, but I have to wonder what you plan to do with this information," Ragnok questioned. "The Nation cannot be linked to someone attacking the home of a Ministry employee."
"Hence why we sourced the floorplan ourselves. All we've paid the Nation for is to fill in some blanks." Remus replied, making his final adjustments to the plan. "What the Nation isn't told, they don't have to lie about knowing. But I assure you, it'll be worth the effort."
Ragnok eyed him closely for several moments. "You are aware," he offered, picking up the bag of gold, "that payment of these services was authorised to come from the family vault?"
Remus smirked again. "Prongs should know better than to try and trick me. This is his repayment for that." He finished, rolling his plan up and dropping it in his bag once more. "I don't do charity, unless it's the giving away part."
ϟ
Friday 21st April 1989.
Amelia breathed a sigh of relief. It had taken weeks, but she finally had a desk again. Though she still bore a grudge against her predecessor for his laziness.
"Miss?" And the assistant that refused to call her Amelia.
"Yes?" She replied, tapping her wand and ordering a tea suitable for the late hour.
"Auror Shacklebolt is here."
"So send him in, Sarah." Amelia rolled her eyes as the young woman disappeared, making way for the larger form of Kingsley to enter. The look on his face was not one she was used to seeing. "Trouble?"
Shack slumped heavily into the seat opposite her and gestured to the now-filling cup on her desk. "I'm going to need a strong one of those. You will too."
Amelia looked at her old friend oddly. "How bad?"
He dumped a file folder on her desk, thinner than one would expect for such a high-profile case as the man who betrayed the ones who defeated Voldemort. Two parchment evidence baggies were laid on top both sporting slender bulges in the middle.
"That bad," Shack replied.
"How so?"
"That is it. That's all we have. I searched the entire Ministry archive from top to bottom. That's what took me so long. We have a wand, never tested." He indicated the first baggy, then the second. "A finger under a decaying stasis charm, confirmed to belong to one Peter Pettigrew. A statement, taken second hand from a man who heard Rubeus Hagrid in a pub talking about how he saw Sirius Black leaving the Potter's ruined home on the 31st of October 1981. And some inane ramblings about something being 'his fault' and repeated cases of laughter consistent with a confundus charm from Black himself."
"And?"
"No 'and'. No questioning. No trial. No records of any kind beyond the very poorly filled-out arrest record. They took Black from the scene, lobbed him into a cell in Azkaban and never looked back."
"Bullshit!" Amelia was stunned as Shack reached for the much stronger brew he had summoned on the desk. "There has to be more than that. Could the files have been moved?"
"The entire archive, Amy. I went through it all using every combination and variation of terms I could think of to search. This is everything that the British Ministry of Magic has on Black's case." Shack tapped the practically empty folder twice. "He might well be guilty, but the evidence in front of us sure as hell doesn't prove it."
Amelia tapped her teacup and vanished the contents, summoning something much stronger. Her eyes drifted from her own wand to the sealed bag in front of her. She grabbed it and looked at the label. It had never been opened after being sealed on November 3rd 1981. Another tap of her wand broke the seal and her name and the date appeared on the record, proving that the magic on it was sound.
She pulled the wand free, watched closely by Shack as she put the two wands tip to tip. "Prior Incantato."
Pulling her wand away, the pair watched the slightly curved dogwood as it began to regurgitate spell ghosts into the air above the desk. Shock settled on them both as the only spells that came out were general daily use spells. Cleaning charms, opening charms, and a sobering charm. Nothing this wand had cast recently could have caused an explosion large enough to kill thirteen people.
"Fuck me," Amelia whispered as her wand fell from her slackened hand, clattering on the desktop.
"I offered to years ago, but you're my boss now, Boss," Kingsley said deadpan, trying to lighten the mood.
Amelia tried to do the maths in her head. Two thousand seven hundred and twenty-six days. Seven years, five months and eighteen days. What would that amount of time and exposure to Dementors do to a man? A quite possibly innocent man.
"Fuck it." She groaned angrily. "I have to go out there. You're coming too. I need this all above board. Find Mad-Eye as well. Anyone who fights us on this will be hard-pressed to question the competence of the three of us. Fucking Lupin, he knew - when he dumped all this on my desk." Amelia replaced the wand that had ruined her day back in the evidence bag, sealing it once more
"Remus Lupin?" Shack asked as his former partner swigged the refilled contents of her teacup in one go. "I thought he died infiltrating the wolf packs during the war?"
"If he did, he's one hell of a ghost. Find Alastor. I need to get this cleaned up now. You know what? I take back what I said about Barty. He was just a bastard. At least the paperwork Ashton left me with was just boring."
ϟ
Saturday 22nd April 1989.
Shack pulled his robes tighter around his body and cast his third warming charm of the boat trip.
Finally looming above the tiny craft was the imposing black stone of Azkaban Prison. The waves chopping heavily about them as a storm system that should not exist in nature swirled about the upper reaches. A perpetual icy rain fell over the dreary island, devoid of any natural flora or fauna. None was hardy enough to survive the constant exposure to the Dementors for all these years.
It had been the better part of three hundred years that the Ministry had held their convicts here. Guarded that entire time by a colony of Dementors that not even the Ministry knew the true scale of. They had never really delved into the depths of Ekrizdis's horrific construction. Nor did they understand how he had built it, seemingly alone, all the way out here.
"Are the Hoods any closer to figuring out how to end these miserable things?" He said aloud, referencing the name often used for the Unspeakables by other departments of the Ministry and getting a grunt from the driver but only silence from the female of his companions.
"Maybe one day," Moody muttered as the boat pulled up to the dock and the magic on the two kept it steady enough in the churning North Sea for the passengers to disembark.
Amelia led the trio quickly from the grey stone dock up to the darker stone doorway. Three silhouetted figures stood in the opening, watching their approach.
"Director Bones." The grey-suited Warden Alfonz greeted. "To what do we owe the unscheduled, extremely early, visit?" He asked, clearly emphasising the hour and his obvious displeasure at having been roused to meet them.
Bones held up her authorisation paperwork as she walked straight past the three and into the slight cover of the entrance to the massive fortress. A few drying charms and several more warming charms allowed feeling to return to Kingsley's extremities as the Warden and his guards led the way to his ground-level office. One of the few rooms in the structure where the effect of the Dementors was completely nullified.
Also one of the only parts of the structure where they would be allowed to retain their wands. Not even the guards could carry theirs deep into the prison. Out of fear of what one of the inmates could do if they ever managed to overpower a guard and take it from them. Only the specially charmed pendants the guards wore kept them from feeling the presence of the terrible creatures as heavily as the prisoners themselves.
Bones didn't bother to sit as Moody took up the position immediately inside the door. One eye on the room and one swirling about, surveying the building.
"I'm here to speak with Sirius Black. Authorisation papers." Amelia was clearly in no mood to chat with the Warden, a man she'd never gotten along with as an Auror, and now she was heading the Department, had suddenly taken a liking to her.
"Advance warning would have been nice." Alfonz smiled.
"Now."
Alfonz lost the cheery expression and eyed Shack and Moody. Clearly unwilling to play hardball with such company. He gestured for one of the guards to bring Black to the office. Shack thought it foolish that it was the only room set up where it would be possible to interview an inmate without Dementor interference. Unless they wanted to use the barracks or mess. But those would be even less suitable. Or defensible.
As the guard returned, Shack felt the influence of the two Dementors guiding the emaciated figure between them. Moody wasted no time in drawing his wand and summoning a Patronus to keep the foul creatures at bay.
"They can wait outside. I've enough bad thoughts in my head at the best of times." Mad-Eye cautioned, eyeing the guard behind him through his head with his magical eye.
"You can't expect me to allow him to be unguarded." Alfonz moaned.
"He's not unguarded," Kingsley commented, drawing his own wand and nodding at the five armed Aurors now in the room with Black.
Amelia seemed oblivious to the banal exchange, instead focusing on the man staring at her. "Sit."
Black immediately complied, keeping his hands visible at all times. "Never had me a visitor. Nice change."
"Quiet, Black." Alfonz chided, moving to take his seat only to find Bones now occupying it and pulling out a folder from her satchel.
"Hardly a good way to conduct a questioning, Alfonz," Moody commented. "We wouldn't have hiked all the way out to this shit hole at three in the mornin' if we wanted him to be quiet."
The Warden simply glared at the aged Auror, but said nothing. Not that there were many who would give out to an armed Alastor Moody. Bones finished preparing the dictaquill and stared across the desk at Black, silence filling the room for several moments.
"Recognize this?" Amelia asked, pulling a sealed bag from her satchel, opening it and laying its contents on the broad desk well beyond reach from the far side.
"What the devil are you doing?! Get that away fro…" Alfonz broke off as Shack stepped up to him and tapped his wand on the man's chest.
"If you would be so kind as to shut up." He said in his deep voice.
"Black?" Amelia continued, acting as if she hadn't been interrupted.
"That would be a dogwood wand, with a Vipertooth heartstring core. Decidedly whippy I believe Ollivander called it." Sirius replied, adding a childish emphasis on the word whippy. "Eleven and a quarter inches too. Bigger than James's, if you know what I mean." Sirius smiled at Amelia over the table, winking at her but keeping his hands in place on the edge, palm up. "Used to be mine before I was chucked in here."
"Can you tell me the last seven spells cast by it?"
Black moved for the first time since sitting down. He leaned back in his chair and both hands came up to his head as he scratched at something in his hair and beard.
"Jeez, that's… let me see. I was tidying up after… Nah, can't recall her name anymore." The smile on his face was as broad as Kingsley had ever seen and he could easily figure exactly what the man had been referring to. "Should be four cleaning charms. No, scrubbing charms. Bachelor life after all. We do leave a mess in our wake. Two opening charms got us into the first beers from the night before. After the first two, I put the wand down. Didn't need it for what we were doing. Not that one anyway."
"And the seventh?" Amelia said, face unchanged as she stared down the grinning man opposite her.
"Sobering charm. Me and James hit the sauce heavily the night before. Lily wouldn't let me leave the Cottage without doing one first. Wasn't impressed with mine either. Her's were always rough as guts. Gave you a worse headache than the hangover. Though knowing Lils, that might have been intentional."
"Why were you drinking? And where." Moody asked from behind Sirius, Still facing into the corridor and maintaining the Patronus.
"Junior had pulled a prank. It was a simple one, he'd just started managing sentences and figured out certain ones got different reactions." He paused once more and seemed lost in thought for a moment before shaking his head again. "Can't remember what he said, but me and James loved it. Lily gave out to us four times that night before she tied me to the couch, dumped a blanket over me and dragged James upstairs to sleep."
"So you spent the night of the twenty-ninth at Potter Cottage?"
"I hope so." He replied cheekily. "That's where I fell asleep and woke up on the thirtieth."
"And the thirty-first?" Kingsley asked.
Immediately Black's entire demeanour changed. The surprisingly carefree exterior he'd shown since walking into the room vanished completely and his face became haunted.
"I spent that day at home. Cleaned in the morning, as I said. Went to…" His voice cracked with a growl as he continued, "Peter's house. He wasn't there. He was supposed to be there. No signs of a struggle. Plenty of food in the cupboards. Had the worst feeling in my gut. Never felt it's like before that moment. Wasn't half as bad as the one I got when I went back to the Cottage."
Silence reigned in the room, everyone present was hanging on Black's every word. "Front doorway was a ragged hole. That blasting curse must have been strong. The front door was half-buried in the stairs." A slight grin emerged for half a second. "James fought hard. The bloody idiot must have left his wand somewhere. It wasn't by his body. But there were books and stuff strewn about the doorway."
"What's the significance of that?" Amelia asked, drawing Black's grey eyes to her face.
Sirius smirked for a moment. "The stuff around the door wasn't kept anywhere near there. James must have tried to beat the stupid prick to death." The smile grew even wider as he spoke, before vanishing entirely as he continued. "Not that it saved him. Shame, he had the leg of the couch in his hand. His cold... "
A shudder passed through Black's body and everyone in the room felt a chill that had nothing to do with the Dementors being kept outside. "I don't know how long I knelt by his body. James was my brother. Dorea and Charlus were better parents to me than Walburga or Orion ever managed. And there he was, lying dead in front of me. And it was all my fault."
"Explain that."
Sirius looked up at Amelia again. "I was supposed to be their Secret Keeper. The Fidelius was meant to keep them safe. Link all the charms together so it was safe for visitors but deadly for interlopers. And if people were looking for me, they wouldn't be looking for Peter."
"Why did Pettigrew matter?"
"He was the one I suggested as Secret Keeper instead of myself," Sirius replied, staring deadpan at Amelia as he spoke.
"Nice, a story that cannot be confirmed, with you the only one alive," Alfonz added from the side.
Kingsley tapped his wand on the man's sternum again, silencing him once more.
Black simply shrugged as he fixed his haunting gaze on the Warden, who shuddered under its weight. After a few silent moments, Sirius turned back to Amelia. "That's when I realised it was too quiet."
"The occupants were deceased, why wouldn't it be quiet?" Amelia asked, trying to refocus the conversation.
"I thought I heard…" Sirius paused, a glimmer of pain in his face tinged with hope that quickly faded. "When I came inside, I thought Junior was crying. Could of sworn I heard him. But by the time I pulled myself together, it was quiet. So I rushed upstairs to the nursery.
"Lily was lying on the floor. That fiery hair of hers was a red halo about her. But her eyes were empty. Lily always had the most amazing eyes. Eyes she gave to Junior. They weren't the same after…" Black took several deep breaths, and Shack thought he saw tears forming in the corner of the man's eyes. "I don't know… she was as good as my sister by then. Even after all the flak she gave James at Hogwarts. And she was gone. Wasted on some lunatic's vile dreams.
"When I managed… when I dragged myself to the crib…" Everyone was silent once more, this was information no one had ever heard before. "Junior was gone. Not like James and Lily. There were only a few tiny drops of blood on the comforter. And the four of us…"
"The four of you?"
Black raised his left fist and counted out each one with a finger. "Prongs, the stag. Moony, the wolf. Wormtail, a rat. And Padfoot, the grim."
"The significance?" Amelia's voice was steady as ever, her talent as an interrogator serving her well.
"How I stayed sane in this place."
"Details, Black." Four wands immediately swung to point at the enormous black dog now sitting in Black's chair. "Stand down!" Amelia roared as she stood, glaring at the four Aurors " I said STAND DOWN!" She repeated before the guards finally lowered their wands, before swinging a finger to point at the dog. "You. Hold still."
She walked around the desk, a single length of parchment in her hand. She looked over the dog and compared it to the description Shack knew was on the form in her hand. "Perfect match. Down to the last shaggy detail."
She placed the parchment on the desk in front of the dog and sat opposite once more, pulling a regular quill from her satchel and placing it atop the form. "Sign."
Black morphed back into human form again, leaning forward to read the parchment. "Where did you get this?" He asked, genuinely curious.
"Informant," Amelia replied simply. "Sign, or I'll have to amend your charges."
Black smiled before complying, chucking the used quill back into the pile of paperwork in front of Amelia.
"What happened next?"
"I collapsed by the crib," Sirius replied as if it was entirely obvious. "Could have been hours before I moved again. Not sure. I eventually noticed that his body was against the far wall. Whatever killed the squirt must have been powerful. Messed the bastard up good and proper. Looked half like minced meat. Worse even than Alastor's face." He finished with a jab of his thumb over his shoulder at the grizzled man in the doorway.
"Wait… killed? You don't…" The guard went quiet as Amelia glared him down.
"Don't what?" Black asked, looking between the two.
"Not relevant, continue." Bones ordered, staring at Black, but occasionally flicking her eyes at the three staff.
"As I sat there wallowing, it sunk in that Peter had betrayed us. I had nothing left to protect anymore, so the only option left was vengeance."
"Why did it take you until the third to find Pettigrew?"
"Bastard was always good at hide and seek. I knew I wouldn't be able to track him using magic, so I used some ideas Lily had shown me." Sirius growled before a dark smirk fixed itself upon his face. "I caught up to him though. He shouted in front of all the muggles that I betrayed them and the sneaky fucker caught me by surprise before I could figure out how best to do it. Fired something off behind his back and the street ripped open.
"I hit the wall behind me and was dazed for a few minutes. When I gathered my wits again, I noticed the finger on the street in front of me." Black began to giggle. "Stupid bastard blew himself to pieces. Stole my revenge from me. From us all."
He began to laugh maniacally, but Shack noticed that the way he described things was off. He'd been late to the scene, but Black had been found sitting in the middle of the street, far from any walls. He flicked his eyes to Amelia, who nodded slightly before focusing on Black again.
"Anything else?" She prompted.
Black's laugh settled and he seemed to become aware that he had company once again. "Else? No. The next thing I knew I was here. You lot are the first people I've seen in... I don't know. How long has it been? Two weeks? Twenty years? Hard to tell time here as the sun never makes it past those clouds."
"You've been exposed to the Dementors now for more than seven years. How is it that you can remember these events so clearly?"
Sirius looked into her eyes, his own looking vacant. "Dementors steal happiness, Bones. Nothing happy happened to me on the thirty-first of October. I will never forget the pain."
The seriousness in his voice haunted all present. But Bones didn't let it show. She glanced at Shack, who shook his head. He needed far longer than that to formulate questions given what they'd just been told. "Alastor?"
"Sleeve."
The guards looked at the gnarled man in confusion but Shack stepped forward and pulled up Black's sleeves. Both arms were filthy with muck and dirt, but two quick scrubbing charms, the very same ones recorded on the dogwood wand, revealed the arms to be free of any blemishes. The aged Auror nodded, still back to the room.
"Take him back to his cell. We've got all we need for now." Amelia instructed, and the same guard that had summoned Black handed his wand to the second guard and lifted him over to the doorway.
Bones gathered her files as the pair stepped over the threshold. Black had lost all the pleasantness he'd shown during their visit and his body shuddered as he was pushed out into the hallway, once more feeling the full effect of the nearby Dementors. The two cloaked figures took his arms and whisked him down the hallway, vanishing around the corner.
Shack was not sure which chilled him more. The horrid feeling of those monsters, or the idea that he'd been party to the seven-year imprisonment of a seemingly innocent man.
As much as he wanted to walk him free, he knew that the Warden would never allow it. Without some form of actual proof, all they had was the story of a possibly insane man that they simply could not corroborate in any way.
But he would be damned if he wouldn't try and find some.
ϟ
Saturday 29th April 1989.
Hermione filled in the final squares on her maths work and slapped her pen down on the desk. "Finished!"
Harry groaned in response, looking down at his own almost completed piece. Hermione giggled at his downtrodden face. He'd been so excited at the prospect of winning their little wager. He quickly filled in the final sections, his answers matching her own, though she knew he wasn't simply copying her work.
"I wanted to win, so bad," Harry mumbled, looking thoroughly deflated.
Hermione looked back at her own work and let out a performative groan of her own. "Oh no… no, no, no."
Harry looked over at her, his eyes flicking down to her homework, noting that the answers were correct, he was unsure why she was worried. "What's wrong?"
Her eyes flicked back up to his own and a small smirk tweaked at the edge of her lips. "I forgot to fill in this bit." Her finger pointed to the empty name field on the homework sheet. The one that wasn't due for two months. The last piece of work that had been between the two and being one hundred percent ahead in class again. "No name."
Harry's eyes flicked between the two sheets, noting that he had put his own name where she had not. Hermione's smile grew slightly as she watched realisation dawn on Harry's face and his grin soon eclipsed her own. He leapt into the air, a surprising height from his knees and yelped with joy. Hermione couldn't help but laugh at her friend, his joy at what was coming was infectious.
He whipped around the table and helped her to her feet, before popping them out of the house and into the open green field.
"You're sure?" He asked, looking deep into her eyes.
Hermione nodded, still slightly nervous, but resolved. "Yes." She stated, her voice betraying none of her nerves.
Nemea appeared beside her, looking up curiously as Harry popped away for a moment. Hermione nodded to her friend and the elf plonked down on the soft grassy surface, clearly enjoying the bright sunshine that was currently peeking from behind light fluffy clouds.
Harry's return was louder than usual, but it was the object in his right hand that had Hermione's attention. The subject of their wager. The one she had intentionally thrown because she agreed it was time to learn.
After all, what self-respecting witch didn't know how to fly a broom?
Harry must have noted the slight trepidation in her as he stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. "You'll be fine, Hermione. I promise."
She nodded in response and took hold of the long shaft. "Mount it like this," Harry continued, carefully showing her as he settled atop his own, Hermione mirroring his movements, glad she had worn comfortable pants rather than a dress or skirt today. "Good."
Harry dropped his own to the ground and stepped forward, correcting the position of her hands on the slender wood. "If you grip here, it's easier to steer. With practice, you'll get the hang of using your knees and you can do it without hands."
Hermione's eyes shot to his face, terror clear on her own. "Relax. You won't do that for ages." His confidence soothed her as he straightened her back slightly. She felt a little silly sitting atop a broom like this but Harry had been certain she could handle herself.
"Hermione," Harry whispered, drawing her eye again. "You can do this, I believe in you. Trust yourself."
She nodded and took a moment to settle her nerves, a quick trip to her happy place, which had only grown more amazing in the past few months, doing the trick. "Ready."
Harry smiled at her and grabbed his own broom again, quickly mounting it and standing beside her. "Just jump slightly into the air and let the broom take your weight. Just that. Trust the magic, they're good brooms. Like this."
She watched closely as Harry pushed into the air, but when he reached the apex of his small leap, he did not return to the ground but simply hovered in place. He turned to watch closely as she mirrored his actions and was suddenly being supported in the air by what felt like a very comfy stool.
"Wow!" She said, carefully keeping her balance. The broom somehow supported her body's waist completely, rather than the stick in her butt feeling she had expected.
Harry grinned at her as his legs met the ground once more and he stepped up beside her, gently correcting her posture and hands once more with featherlight touches. She could feel the magic on the broom against her own, exactly as Harry had described. She felt like she could tell the broom to do anything with it and it would respond immediately. She squashed that feeling down, trusting Harry when he said it was better to use that later.
"You ok?" He asked, looking at her closely.
"Mmhmm," She hummed, still slightly nervous, unwilling to speak lest she give that away.
"We can stop, Hermione."
"No." Her voice firm, "I can do this. I want to do this."
Harry watched her closely for a moment. "Alright. To move, squeeze the handle and twist your torso, let your arms suggest the turn to the broom." Harry paused as she did as instructed, slowly twisting to the left and right. "Perfect.
"Up and down are controlled by pulling the shaft up or down respectively." He paused again as she tested the instructions, moving half a metre higher before returning down. "Excellent. Forwards and back are you leaning your torso without shifting the handle. Move slowly, the closer you get to the broom, the faster you'll go."
Hermione followed his instructions and was soon moving slowly over the grass below. She could see the blades trickling past and felt a rush unlike any she'd had before. She was flying. At a very basic level maybe, but she was doing it. It was completely different from when she had been sitting behind Harry as he shot them through the air. Having control made it so much more her speed.
"Still ok?" Harry asked from behind her now, audibly running to keep up, and Hermione nodded as she lowered the broom until her feet met the ground once again.
She dropped the broom and wrapped Harry in a fierce hug, "That's incredible."
"Tell me about it." He chuckled in reply. "Wait till you get the hang of it."
Hermione smiled and grabbed her broom again, climbing aboard much more confidently this time. Harry gradually walked her through the different controls, going a little higher and a little faster each time.
By the time a frantic Remus cracked into view on the edge of the pitch, she was soaring through the air. She loved the way the wind whipped her bushy hair out behind her and she giggled as she watched Harry twirl about his own broom in front of her.
She followed his movements instinctually, letting the rush take her wherever he led.
Remus settled as he watched the aerial dance going on in front of him. When the portraits had located him in the library and screamed to get to the Quidditch Pitch, he'd been terrified of what he would find.
Harry was certainly James's son though. He was even more natural on a broom than Prongs had ever been. And Hermione was following him closer than even Sirius could have kept on James.
The two practically moved as one. Their coordination and skill would put anyone he knew to the test to try and match. It was beyond impressive to watch. So much so that he once more felt a little useless being here. The pair were perfectly fine without his aid.
He vanished from the pitch and reappeared in the thin ballroom, noting that the window had been changed to a lens, bringing the distant pitch into sharp focus. The entire family was gathered watching in awe out the window.
"He puts you to shame, Prongs. A complete natural on that thing."
"Shut up, Moony. Just proves I've got great Quidditch genes." James sniped back.
"And Hermione?" Lily questioned a slightly sinister look on her face. "I sure hope you aren't claiming she has your magical genes."
"Their coordination is incredible. He's only taken her up once before and her magic was too unsteady at the time. Made for a wild ride." Dorea stated. "They were both a little shaken when they came back inside. Now look at her."
"Give him a few more months and he'll have the elves up on those things too. He looks so happy up there." Lily said.
James seemed lost in thought for a moment. "Maybe… if he trains a few of the elfin… we could see a real match again."
"Don't even think about it!" Lily growled looking at her husband and drawing laughter from several of the family as he looked instantly dejected. A far cry from the joy and laughter from the sky above the distant pitch.