It was dark already when a knock on the door brought Harry out of his brooding. He glared at the offending sound, wishing that the intruder would leave him alone. He was not in the mood to have anyone pitying him. Not Hermione, not Ron and most definitely not Mrs. Weasley. In his book, a door locked from the inside meant that the someone wanted privacy. Why could they not take the hint and just let him be?
The knocking came again, followed after a small break by the sound of the lock turning off. The old door creaked open and the shaggy mane of Sirius Black poked into the room.
“Go away, Sirius,” Harry growled.
“Sorry, kiddo, can’t do that. If I let you scowl anymore, you’ll start turning into a mini-Snivellus. And one greasy git is already more than the world can suffer. It is my sworn duty as a godfather and a Marauder to save you from this fate worst than death.”
“I bet the bastard is having the time of his life,” grouched Harry.
“Yeah, I’ve never seen a larger smirk on his ugly mug ever before. It took all my will power to not hex him or punch him during the Order meeting. I just did not want to make a scene in front of everyone. But I swear that I’ll prank his ass to hell the first time I have the opportunity.”
“What’s this ‘Order’ I keep hearing about? First Mr. Weasley, then Mad-Eye Moody, now you. I bet even Ron and Hermione or the twins know about it. Only I am not told anything. I’m sick of it, Sirius. I feel like a bloody mushroom - kept in the dark and fed bullshit. Why the hell am I kept out of the loop? I did not receive a single letter all summer so far. Not one bloody letter. I had to steal the newspaper from the trash bin and creep below the Dursleys’ window to hear the news on telly. Who was in the thick of things each and every time the shit hit the fan? Me, that’s who. I had to face Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest and protect the Stone from him in the first year. I killed the bloody basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets in the second year. I had to chase away a horde of Dementors when you escaped in the third year. I have been entered in the bloody Tournament last year. I had to face a dragon, merfolk at the bottom of the lake and Voldemort himself in the graveyard. And I had to see Cedric die before my eyes. Just because I was too bloody noble to take the Cup myself and wanted to have a shared victory for Hogwards. Nobody tells me anything, nobody listens to me and I have to muddle my way by the seat of my pants each and every bloody time.”
By the time Harry mentioned Cedric’s name, tears were falling freely on his cheeks. The final part came out muffled, as Sirius enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug. Still holding the sobbing teen in his arms, he drew his wand, locked the door again and threw a couple of privacy charms. Sirius knew how much Harry valued his privacy and didn’t want anyone else to enter the room while he was in such a vulnerable state.
“It’s OK, pup, let it go,” whispered Sirus. “I’m here now and I’m not gonna leave you again.”
“What is going to happen from now on, Sirius? Hogwarts was the only home I ever knew. I’ve had good times and bad times there, but I felt that I fit there. Now I can’t go there anymore. And I don’t want to return to Privet Drive ever again. And they snapped my wand. That wand was the only reason I escaped alive from that graveyard. It had the same core as Voldemort’s - a tail feather from Fawkes. and caused something that Dumbledore called “Priori Incantatem” or something like that. Our spells linked and I was able to force the connection into Voldemort’s wand. Echoes started to appear, shadows of those killed by that wand. Cedric came first. Then one old man that I did not know. Then ... Then came Mom and Dad. They distracted him enough for me to grab Cedric’s body, summon the Cup and escape. And now my wand is gone too. The only chance I had in front of Voldemort and it’s gone. I’ve seen their faces, Sirius, when they snapped it. Fudge, Malfoy, Umbridge ... There was glee in their eyes. Especially Malfoy’s. I bet that he knew what that meant for his master. If they ever find me again, I’ll be a sitting duck in front of them. I have no way to defend myself.”
“We’ll find a solution, pup. Me and Moony will find a way to help you. I promise you that, on Marauder honor. You’ll stay here tonight, but tomorrow Dumbledore wants you to return to the Dursleys for the next two weeks. Then you’ll come back here.”
“WHAT? He’s got to be joking. Why must I return there? That’s where I was attacked in the first place. And now I don’t even have a wand to defend myself. What if the Dementors come again?”
“Hold your hippogriffs, pup. I don’t want you to go either. I, Moony and Molly shouted at Dumbledore till we turned blue. He claims there are powerful blood wards around your house and that you must stay there two more weeks for the wards and the protection that Lily left you to recharge for the next year.”
“BLOOD wards? Voldemort took MY blood to fashion his new body - ‘blood of the enemy forcibly taken’ and all that crap. He was able to touch me in the graveyard, without burning himself, like it happened to Quirrell. He might be able to waltz through the wards now, as far as I know.” Harry felt a shudder passing through his body. “Although Voldemort waltzing is quite a scary thought.”
“There will be two Order members outside at all times, Harry. And neither Dung or Snivellus will be among them. Also I insisted that you’ll be given an emergency portkey to bring you here in case of danger. We won’t let you get hurt. Dumbledore promised that he’ll take every precaution to keep you safe.”
“I’m not sure I can trust Professor Dumbledore anymore, Sirius.” Harry’s voice was laced with bitterness. “I realized a couple of things today and I don’t like them at all. It all started to fall together when I found out that Mrs. Figg knew about the magical world. It meant that she was in the neighbourhood to keep an eye on me. Mrs’ Figg used to babysit me all the time, whenever the Dursleys left home. That means that the Headmaster knew everything about my life with the Dursleys. Hell, my first Hogwarts letter was addressed to ‘The cupboard under the stairs’. He also left you to rot for thirteen years in Azkaban. He’s the bloody Supreme Mugwump. It’s his job to make sure justice is served. All the other Death Eaters received a trial - I’ve seen the pensieve memory of Karkaroff’s trial. Yet he did nothing. The same happened when they captured you at Hogwarts. Instead he relied on two students to mess with time and do the job in his place. I don’t even want to start on all the times he messed up last year.”
For a moment there was silence between them. Too many bitter memories have been stirred by this discussion. Yet Sirius knew that wallowing in self pity and chasing “what-if” scenarios will lead them nowhere. His godson needed him at his best now.
“You’re making some good points, pup. I asked myself some of these questions at times.” Sirius was unusually somber at this moment. “It was at his orders that you were delivered to the Dursleys. Hagrid said so when I met you two at Godric’s Hollow. I tried to reason with him, to convince him to let me have you, but you know that he puts Dumbledore’s orders above anything else. So I gave in to my anger and grief and went after the traitorous rat. And we both know how well that ended. But the past is gone and there’s nothing we can do about it.”
Harry took a moment to recollect his thoughts. Sirius was right. He needed to pull his act together. He had never given up before and he was not going to start now.
“You’re right, Sirius. Together we’ll find a way out of this. And thanks for listening to my ravings. I feel a lot better now, like a great weight has been lifted off my chest.”
“It’s my pleasure and my duty as a godfather, pup. Prongs would kick my ass all over the afterlife if I let you turn into Moaning Myrtle.”
