Chapter 199: Old Memories
The Christmas tree was brought out again by Sirius.
Russell and Wednesday had gone out shopping, while Hermione and Ron wisely made themselves scarce as well—neither of them had any intention of being a third wheel.
That left only Harry and the other two inside the Black family home.
The weather had grown colder. The fireplace crackled, scattering sparks into the dim room. Sirius lazily stirred sugar cubes into his tea with the tip of his wand.
Harry watched the cubes float at the rim of his cup, gradually transforming into tiny golden Snitches. It was a trick James had invented in his youth—the surface of each sugar sphere still bore the carved initials "JP."
"Your father," Sirius said suddenly, a grin tugging at his lips, "set the lawn on fire the first time he tried a Flame Charm."
With a flick of his wand, steam from the tea curled upward and formed a moving image: a tall, skinny boy wildly waving his wand as flames burst out of control, igniting the grass around him.
Remus Lupin poured more tea from the kettle by the hearth. "But by third year, he'd already broken Hogwarts' scoring records. That match against Hufflepuff, remember? Torrential rain—he hung upside down from his broom and still caught the Snitch. Even Professor McGonagall shouted."
"Speaking of that," Sirius stretched his legs onto a chair, "the night before our O.W.L.s exams…"
He chuckled. "James used three whole tubes of color-shifting ink—the kind that changes depending on the angle—to redraw every Defense Against the Dark Arts professor as Muggle rock stars."
"That was to impress Lily," Lupin added, smiling faintly.
He glanced at Harry. "You know, your mother might've seemed quiet, but she loved rock music. Especially that band… what was it called—Queen."
He blew gently across his tea, nostalgia softening his expression.
The fire popped loudly.
Sirius waved his hand, and the steam illusion shifted again—this time to the Shrieking Shack.
Four shadowy figures huddled over a piece of parchment, arguing. A younger Sirius flicked ink onto Peter.
"The Marauder's Map nearly got us all expelled," Lupin said, tapping the illusion apart with a teaspoon. "Your father insisted on adding a feature that showed where the caretakers were—meant as a warning system. First weekend we tried it, we got caught sneaking out."
"But he broke my Leg-Locker Curse!" Sirius shot upright, kicking over his stool. "He actually undid my spell!"
"He chased us all the way to the Owlery with a lantern," Sirius continued, laughing at the memory. "And James—he was laughing the whole time while running."
Back then, the caretaker hadn't been Filch yet.
Harry traced a crack along the rim of his teacup, hesitating before he spoke.
"I've heard Professor Severus Snape didn't get along with you… That's why he always targets me."
He looked up.
"Is that true?"
The question hung in the air.
Sirius's smile froze.
"Your father," he said slowly, "took four years to understand something…"
His voice lowered.
"…some battles don't require spells."
Sirius's voice suddenly took on a lighter, almost playful tone. "Snape never got along with your father from the very beginning, so naturally he didn't get along with us either. Of course, I know why—because of Lily—"
"Don't," Remus cut in quickly. "Don't say it, Sirius."
Realizing he'd gone too far, Sirius shut his mouth at once.
"Let's talk about something lighter."
He flicked his wand, extinguishing half the candles. In the dim glow, his eyes gleamed.
"Did you know, Harry? James was the last of us to master the Patronus Charm. It wasn't until the night Lily agreed to go out with him that his stag finally took shape."
"I'll stop you there," Harry interrupted, frowning slightly. "What's a Patronus Charm?"
He was still only a first-year—magic like that was far beyond him.
"The Patronus Charm," Lupin explained patiently, "is highly advanced magic. Most witches and wizards can't cast it at all. Being able to produce a Patronus is usually considered a sign of exceptional magical ability."
"Some can only manage a non-corporeal Patronus—just a cloud of silvery mist. It offers limited protection, nothing like a fully formed Patronus. The spell itself is one of the oldest known, appearing in many ancient magical records."
"Like this," Sirius said, growing enthusiastic as he raised his wand.
"Expecto Patronum."
A stream of silver mist poured from the tip, gathering and solidifying until it formed a dog.
"A dog?" Harry blinked in surprise. He had expected a wolf.
"Kreacher! Hurry it up," Sirius called impatiently, tapping the table.
The house-elf appeared, looking sour-faced, carrying a tray of pies which he set down heavily. Beside them sat a jar filled with sugar cubes.
Lupin tapped the jar lightly with his wand. The scattered cubes leapt into formation, assembling into the shape of a Gryffindor lion—the tail shimmering slightly brighter than the rest.
"The night before our seventh-year Christmas ball," Sirius narrowed his eyes at the sugar lion, "your father stole ingredients from Slughorn to brew us a love potion."
Lupin nearly choked on his tea, his reflection warping on the cup's surface. "It wasn't a love potion. It was a hair-growth potion mixed with Amortentia. Peter ended up with three inches of wool growing under his robes."
Harry burst out laughing, nearly knocking over the fruit bowl—but the laughter quickly faded. Peter… that name still carried weight. One of the people responsible for destroying his family.
Perhaps, he thought, that kind of treatment had planted the seeds of betrayal.
Sirius suddenly pulled a yellowed piece of parchment from the sofa cushions. Dust shook loose, dancing in the beam of light like drifting motes.
"Look here," he said, pointing at the dense cluster of footprints around the Shrieking Shack. "We spent six months mapping every secret passage, just so Lupin could—"
His voice cut off abruptly, as if he'd caught himself.
Lupin didn't react. His fingers brushed over a smudged patch of ink on the map.
"That was the first time Lily joined us on a night outing," he said quietly. "She brought honey cakes from the kitchens as bait. Managed to distract Mrs. Norris completely."
Harry leaned closer and noticed faint writing along the edge of the map. A quick magnifying charm revealed the faded note:
Moony reminds Padfoot—after eating garlic snails this morning, keep at least five feet away while invisible.
Outside, rain began to pour suddenly, drumming against the windows like hurried footsteps echoing through Hogwarts corridors.
When Kreacher returned with a musty blanket, Sirius abruptly conjured a rusted tin box.
"Remember this?" he said, a grin breaking through. "Our treasury."
The lid creaked open.
Inside, a photograph fluttered up—four boys, shoulder to shoulder, grinning with reckless, radiant joy.