"Want some candy?"
"No, thanks." Hodge glanced at the dark, suspiciously shaped sweets and declined. As he turned to leave, a thought struck him. "Professor Dumbledore, do you think the Ministry will catch Sirius Black?"
Dumbledore's sharp gaze met his.
"Sirius Black betrayed the Potter family, killed his friend Peter, and twelve Muggles."
"So they say," Hodge emphasized. "Sirius Black allegedly betrayed the Potter family, killed Peter, and twelve Muggles."
Dumbledore's blue eyes suddenly gleamed.
"And what's your opinion?" he asked softly.
"I don't have one," Hodge replied. "I've just heard that he was thrown into Azkaban without a trial. Now that he's escaped, maybe it's time for that trial to happen."
Hodge trudged through the snow-covered forest, his mind replaying the conversation with Dumbledore, searching for a spark of inspiration.
Fragmented thoughts…
Perhaps he could reverse it to heal the Longbottoms, but that wasn't the point.
Deliberately mimicking Mad-Eye Moody's fighting style…
Mimicking… fragmented thoughts…
The snow was soft and powdery, crunching under his boots with every step. As Hodge pondered, he absentmindedly waved his wand, its tip emitting a fine mist that swirled into fleeting images of battle scenes in the air.
Hodge stared at the visions of himself, lost in thought.
There was no need to imitate others. Sure, he could simulate battles with others to borrow their strategies—a useful method for someone like him, lacking real combat experience. Many used this technique. But Hodge had a gut feeling that something deeper lay behind it, something crucial to him. Was it about mimicking dozens, even hundreds, of fighting styles to quickly forge his own? That could make him stronger, no doubt. But strength could be gained in other ways—if he wore the diadem and tapped into his subconscious, he could master countless spells in no time. Or…
Hodge's memories drifted further back, to his first day at Hogwarts, facing the troll. He'd acted on pure instinct, conjuring an image of Andros the Invincible in his mind and casting a massively powerful Blasting Curse. The Andros in his head wasn't real, not historically accurate…
Hmm? Hodge suddenly felt eyes on him.
The next moment, he saw what had distracted him—a large, shaggy black dog, scruffy and unkempt.
The dog appeared on a snowy hillock, its head poking over the crest, warily peering at Hodge. When Hodge showed no fear or disgust, the dog shook off the snow, its tail wagging furiously. Is it… trying to be friendly? Hodge thought, watching it slide down the slope. The dog—Sirius Black, to be precise, disguised as a massive black dog—rolled and romped in the snow, acting utterly foolish, occasionally glancing at Hodge. Hodge's face darkened with confusion. He couldn't make sense of this behavior. Did I get it wrong? Is this not Sirius, just some ordinary stray? He knew Sirius was an Animagus, but he'd never seen it with his own eyes…
Hodge watched, expressionless, as the dog entertained itself in the snow, tongue lolling, paws digging up buried branches and dry grass. It even rolled over, baring its belly and barking at him. Kind of amusing… Hodge thought, eyeing the ridiculous scene. But when he raised his wand, the dog leapt to its feet with startling agility, as if it had become a different creature. Its pale eyes locked onto Hodge, wary and alert.
Hodge smirked. "Sirius Bla—"
Whoosh!
The dog lunged, its massive paws and dark bulk radiating menace. It bared inch-long fangs, aiming for Hodge's wand arm. In the next instant, it was flung back, crashing into the snow with a pained whimper.
The dog glared, snarling threateningly.
Hodge, now sitting cross-legged in the snow, wand resting on his thigh, waved a tattered piece of parchment at it. "Padfoot, come sit."
A dead silence followed. After a long moment, the dog rose from its crouch, shook off the dirt, and padded over to face Hodge. It glanced at him, and in a flash, it transformed into a gaunt, filthy man, skin stretched over bones.
"The Marauder's Map?" the man rasped.
"Yep."
"You know Moony?"
"You mean Remus Lupin? Nope, don't know him."
Sirius's sunken, shadowed eyes widened, looking like he hadn't slept in years.
"Who are you?"
"Hodge Blackthorn," Hodge answered cheerfully. "Alright, three questions done. My turn."
Sirius's gaunt, yellowish cheeks puffed out as he roared, "I never agreed to any three-question deal!"
"Just trying to be friendly," Hodge said. "I'm willing to give a little first."
Sirius's gray eyes widened further, mirroring the dog's fierce stare. His matted, tangled hair shook as his bony chest heaved. Then he calmed.
"Ask away," he said hoarsely.
"Why are you here?"
"Harry," Sirius said. "Harry Potter."
"You want to kill him?"
"No, no…" he murmured. "I just want to see him, see how he's doing…"
"You saw him in Azkaban," Hodge pointed out.
"Meeting in Azkaban doesn't exactly count as quality time," Sirius said, his expression odd, his voice rough from disuse. "That Auror said he was there as punishment—him and some freckled kid."
"So you think Harry's doing badly?"
"Better than I expected," Sirius admitted. "I thought…" He paused. "I saw him up close. He's so much like his father. And he's got two friends—Ron and Hermione, right? Though his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is rubbish."
"And me," Hodge added.
Sirius looked skeptical.
"What, you think I'd risk meeting you if I wasn't a friend?" Hodge teased. Then a thought hit him. "You were at the Duelling Club, weren't you?"
Hodge racked his brain, recalling the scene. If anyone stood out around Harry… Ron… Hermione… Colin Creevey… Lottie Turner…
"Lottie Turner?"
Sirius's face betrayed his shock.
"Got it right, didn't I?" Hodge said with a grin. "Lottie didn't seem the duelling type, though practically the whole school was there, so it wasn't odd. She was with Creevey, who's got that little 'Harry Potter Fan Club' thing going… But she kept staring at Harry. That's not much on its own—she likes painting, maybe she was planning a 'Chosen One at the Duelling Club' masterpiece? But when Umbridge used the Cruciatus Curse, Lottie's eyes went straight to Harry. That look… it wasn't her look. Hmm, speaking of painting, I know she often sketches in quiet corners of the school…"
A strange expression crossed Hodge's face.
Why had Sirius wagged his tail at him? The answer seemed clear now—Sirius had pulled this off before, fooling other students, maybe even getting their hair.
Hodge tried not to picture Sirius transforming into a dog and acting cute to scam people.
"Don't look at me like that," Sirius said, goosebumps rising on his skin. "Your questions are done. My turn."
"Nope, not yet."
"Not yet?" Sirius froze, instantly on guard. "What do you want from me?"
"Surrender."
————
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