"Potter's the Seeker for Gryffindor," Professor Flitwick chirped. "Quite the talent."
"Of course he is," Sirius said, his eyes still fixed on the Quidditch pitch.
Hagrid seemed to spot them. He waved from afar, his huge form striding towards them through the downpour, a dripping telescope in hand.
"What's up?" Hagrid boomed. "You need me for somethin', Professor McGonagall?"
Anthony swore Hagrid's eyes darted nervously toward his hut, but Professor McGonagall didn't seem to notice.
"Hagrid, do you remember—"
"Blimey!" Hagrid exclaimed, staring at Sirius. "Sirius Black?"
"Been a while, Hagrid," Sirius replied.
"You're not mad!" Hagrid said, beaming. "Hah! Knew it!" His dark eyes lit up. He looked like he desperately wanted to clap Sirius on the back, but under Professor McGonagall's sharp gaze, he pulled his massive hand back and scratched the back of his head instead.
"The Wizengamot review is complete," Professor Burbage told him. "Not guilty. Released."
"Brilliant!" Hagrid cried. "That's just brilliant! Ever since Harry told me about Ron's rat—speakin' of, Harry!" He smacked his forehead. "I'll fetch 'im! Harry!"
He stormed off, not even noticing Lupin standing nearby. Remus didn't seem to mind. He just watched Professor McGonagall, a fond, nostalgic look on his face as she snapped at Sirius to get under the eaves ("The Hospital Wing, Sirius!").
"Anything I need to keep confidential for Mr. Black?" Anthony asked Lupin quietly, rain streaming down his face. He wondered if casting a Bubble-Head Charm now would make him stand out too much—the only one walking around with a goldfish bowl on his head.
Lupin considered it. "Don't tell anyone he illegally modified a motorcycle?"
"No problem," Anthony said, not mentioning his own friend who'd modified a Muggle car. Besides, as he understood it, a flying motorbike or car wasn't illegal as long as you didn't intend to fly it.
"Thank you," Lupin said, shaking his head. He wiped water from his face and smiled, a little helplessly. "But I suspect everyone will know soon enough."
"Oh, I can imagine," Anthony said.
Even without considering how the ravenous reporters would dig into Sirius's story, Anthony doubted Sirius would care much about breaking the Statute of Secrecy with a modified bike.
The hazy picture Anthony had pieced together—from Hagrid's drunken snippets and Sirius's performance at the Wizengamot trial—was of someone who fit the biker type perfectly. The kind who roared past street corners in the dead of night, helmetless. Anthony couldn't picture a man like that worrying about a Ministry citation.
"Good news is, the Ministry probably won't be in a hurry to retry him," Anthony offered.
Lupin smiled. "Then there's nothing left to keep secret." Like Sirius, his gaze kept drifting toward the direction Hagrid had gone.
…
Soon, Hagrid's massive shape reappeared through the silver curtain of rain. Harry, Ron, and Hermione jogged after him, looking up and probably firing questions. All three were soaked. Hermione's little umbrella was useless in this storm, and Ron had clearly forgotten where Mrs. Weasley had packed his umbrella long ago.
"You'll see in a minute," Anthony heard Hagrid's muffled voice rumble.
Hagrid stopped. Harry, Ron, and Hermione nearly collided with his back.
Harry's gaze swept past Anthony, lingered briefly on Lupin, passed over Professors McGonagall and Flitwick under the hut's eaves, and finally landed on Sirius's gaunt face. It paused there.
"Over here, Potter," Professor McGonagall said. "This is Remus Lupin. Remus—Harry Potter."
From Harry's expression, he clearly remembered the name. Ron rolled his eyes, thinking hard, then let out a loud "Oh!," probably recalling the man responsible for his lost pet. Both Lupin and Sirius were smiling at Harry, though Sirius's smile looked a bit gruesome. Hermione watched them, curious and wary.
"Mr. Lupin," Harry greeted, a bit awkwardly. "I—er—it's good to meet you."
"It's good to meet you too, Harry," Lupin said gently, studying him intently.
"Looks a lot like James, eh?" Hagrid said to Lupin, then looked down at Harry with a warm smile.
"Except the eyes," Lupin smiled. "Those are Lily's eyes. I'm Remus Lupin, Harry. A friend of your parents… I'd hoped to meet you sooner."
"I heard," Harry said, sounding more at ease. "Snape's fault." None of the professors bothered to correct him to 'Professor Snape.'
"Snape?" Sirius cut in. "What's he done now?"
Harry's eyes shifted to him. Sirius was the driest of the lot. He leaned against the wall of Hagrid's hut, next to shovels, rakes, and dragon dung fertilizer. His hair hung lank over his shoulders, one strand plastered to his cheek. He pushed it back.
"This is Sirius Black," Lupin said. "He's…" He paused, looking at Sirius, letting him introduce himself.
Under Harry's gaze, Sirius straightened up. Shifted his weight from one leg to the other. Cleared his throat. Cleared it again. He seemed to have suddenly forgotten how to speak.
"I know. He was my dad's friend too," Harry said helpfully, offering Sirius a small smile. Ron turned to Hermione with a bewildered look. She met his eyes, equally clueless.
"Yes… I suppose I was," Sirius said, his voice going rough again. "But there's… there's another thing. Might sound like madness… but the fact is, Harry, I'm your godfather."
The muscles in his face twitched, like he was trying for a kindly smile. The result just made Ron's brow furrow deeper. Hermione eyed Sirius even more cautiously.
Harry froze.
"Godfather?" he whispered. "I have a godfather?"
"'Course you do!" Hagrid boomed. "Sirius was your godfather when you were just a tiny thing!"
"You knew all along and never told us?" Hermione asked, astonished.
"Because I was in Azkaban," Sirius answered for Hagrid. "Better to have no godfather than a mad, traitorous one in prison…"
"Oh, I get it! He's the one who went to jail because of Scabbers!" Ron blurted. "That Sirius Black!"
"Shh, Ron!" Hermione hissed fiercely. "Be polite!"
"Oh, right," Sirius said dismissively, his eyes still glued to Harry's face. "That's me. The fool who… because of a rat…" His voice dropped, almost lost in the rain. "Because I trusted a rat, and got James and Lily killed…" The fire was back in his eyes.
Harry looked up at him, really looked. Around them, water cascaded from the eaves like a waterfall.
"You were my parents' Secret-Keeper first," Harry said slowly.
Sirius nodded. His voice was a ragged whisper. "I talked them into switching to Peter at the last minute… Not a day goes by that I don't regret it…"
"You're still my godfather," Harry said. "I mean, you must've been really good friends with my parents."
Sirius seemed speechless.
"Yes," he finally rasped. "I was."
…
Given Sirius's terrible physical state, once the rain eased slightly, Professor McGonagall and Lupin steered him away from Hagrid's eaves and toward the Hospital Wing. Professor Burbage had already braved the downpour to leave—she truly was busy—and Professor Flitwick headed off to the greenhouses for tea. Anthony decided to accompany Hagrid to reinforce the rain shelters by the Forbidden Forest, where Professor Kettleburn kept some creatures for lessons.
"Great, Henry, you can help me with the Fire Crabs," Hagrid said, rather pleased. "They've been a bit testy lately, what with all this rain… Last time I brought Fang, they near singed his nose. Don't like him much, prob'ly 'cause he drools on their shells… Hang on, let me grab me cloak."
He yanked his door open, then slammed it shut. Heavy footsteps and Fang's barking echoed from inside. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood where they were, watching Professor McGonagall, Lupin, and Sirius disappear into the distance. Students were trickling off the Quidditch pitch now, their excited chatter carrying faintly on the wind.
"We should go too, Harry," Ron said. "I bet there's a party in the common room—for beating Slytherin—and with any luck, we can get Wood to forget about your practice tomorrow morning."
"It is a day worth celebrating," Hermione said, opening her umbrella. "Gryffindor won, Malfoy got chewed out by Flint, you both finished your Astronomy essays… and, well, Mr. Lupin and Mr. Black."
Ron suddenly gasped. "Bloody hell, he's your godfather, Harry!"
"Yes, thank you for reminding us of the last half hour!" Hermione said tartly.
"It means he's your guardian!" Ron barreled on, undeterred. "We can both take Muggle Studies next year! He'll definitely let you do the practicals!"
Harry shot a quick glance at Anthony. Anthony gave him an encouraging smile.
Harry turned back, nodding at Ron. "We can get an owl like Elon. You'll have a pet again." His eyes shone with anticipation. He glanced once more in the direction Sirius had gone, a smile tugging at his lips. Hermione looked that way too.
"Want to go to the Hospital Wing?" Hermione asked. "Mr. Black did look a bit… concerning."
"There's nothin' Madam Pomfrey can't fix," Ron said confidently. "Bet he's right as rain by tomorrow."
"Madam Pomfrey would kick me out," Harry said, speaking from experience. "She'd say the patient needs quiet and rest, and I shouldn't bother Sirius."
Anthony looked at the drenched boy. "If you're feeling a chill, why not visit the Hospital Wing for a Pepper-Up Potion, Mr. Potter?"
…
"Right, let's go, Henry," Hagrid said, pulling a vast, oilskin cloak over himself. As he adjusted the collar, he handed Anthony a large, felt-brimmed hat, gesturing for him to wear it against the rain.
"Today's a good day," Hagrid declared cheerfully, leading the way. "Aragog's got more grandkids. Sirius and Remus are back. Gryffindor won the match…"
"Indeed," Anthony agreed. "On the way back, we were worried the school would be in chaos—especially with it being a Gryffindor-Slytherin match. Charity thought the stands would be trading curses, and Pomona feared the Hospital Wing would be overflowing by the time we got there. I must say, I'm quite surprised the match went so smoothly…"
"Smoothly?" Hagrid boomed. "No, Henry, not at all!"
"What happened?"
Just mentioning it seemed to rile Hagrid up.
"Merlin's beard, Harry caught the Snitch in under fifteen minutes! But look when the match ended! Afternoon!" Hagrid said, annoyed. "The Slytherins tampered with a Bludger. Kept tryin' to knock Harry off his broom. Madam Hooch spotted it right away, of course. Blew her whistle, stopped the match—some Hogwarts-specific Quidditch regulation—and warned Slytherin that if it happened again, she'd rule the Snitch caught for Harry."
"And then?"
"Those Slytherins swore they didn't do nothin', said their brooms and flying were just that good… Lies, the whole lot! Everyone could see that Bludger was berserk, and only targeting Harry," Hagrid rumbled. "At first, no one owned up, 'cause the Bludgers were kept with Madam Hooch. 'If we had that kind of magic, we wouldn't have gotten detention in Charms yesterday,' their Captain said. But they found the reason eventually."
Anthony asked, curious. "What was it?"
"That Malfoy brat brought his own house-elf to school!" Hagrid thundered. "Made the elf enchant the Bludger to chase Harry! Malfoy claims he didn't do it, but everyone knows—house-elves only listen to their masters!"
That night, Anthony woke up suddenly. He was completely alert. And very, very hungry.
He lay in bed, carefully distinguishing between the hollow ache of his physical body and the different, deeper pull of necromantic hunger.
It was the body. He'd spent too much time on lesson prep that evening and missed dinner.
Anthony sighed in relief, got up, and padded quietly into his office. He opened a drawer and started rummaging through his snack stash.
The Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans were mostly gone—adventurous students were always happy to take one. The Chocolate Frogs had mostly gone to Lupin.
He thumped open the biscuit tin. The Marguerite cookies from Professor Sprout were all eaten too, only crumbs scattered in the slightly shiny tin. He dabbed a finger in, feeling them soften and melt instantly in his mouth.
Anthony sighed again. He was hungrier now.
Coconut ice. His stomach gurgled unpleasantly. No, thank you.
The fudge from Mr. Weasley at Christmas wasn't finished, but it had gone a bit hard. Besides, Anthony didn't really want candy at three in the morning.
The Wraith Chicken ambled out from the bedroom, craning its neck to see what he was doing.
So, Anthony decided to go to the kitchens for a roast chicken leg.
Dobby had recently started selling "Dobby's Secret Midnight Chicken Legs"—crispy skin, juicy inside. Price: one ball of yarn. A second ball got you Dobby's bigger smile. Coco said Dobby was currently obsessed with knitting his own jumpers and socks and wanted to make a pair for Harry.
In the kitchens, Anthony ran into three separate groups of students there for chicken legs. If a few of them hadn't run into Filch on their panicked dash back to the dormitories, no one would have gotten detention that night.
But the chicken legs were worth it.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
Read up to (55+ ) advanced chapters on Patre\on
Visit us here: patreon . com/GoldenLong
Happy reading, everyone!