Veilfic: Erotomania, Part 5--Following the Pensieve Scene
More of my veilfic, as yet unbeta'd. And for those who want links, here's what's been written so far:
Veilfic--Erotomania, Part 1
Veilfic--Erotomania, Part 2
Veilfic--Erotomania, Part 3
Veilfic--Erotomania, Part 4
***
After the Pensieve incident, Sirius fully expected to be ordered to make his way to the Ministry of Magic and leave this dimension forever. Snape detested him, Remus feared him, and Dumbledore clearly knew too much about his alternative self to regard him as anything other than mad, bad and dangerous to know.
And be honest, he told himself bitterly. You want to run. You want to walk through the Veil, find your own world--or a pleasant variant--and pretend that none of this ever happened.
However, Dumbledore was most emphatic--leaving was not an option.
"I can't believe you care that much about my continued good health," he snarled when Dumbledore informed him that, contrary to all of his expectations, he would be remaining here for some time. "And what do you think this is going to do to Remus, seeing the man who killed his best friends--and who crippled him--wandering around Hogwarts? It'll drive him crazy. You know it will. He can barely stand being in the same room with me."
Not to mention that the wolf would probably tear his throat out with a cheerful howl at the next full moon. Or that Snape would be more than willing to help.
"Your point is well-taken," said Dumbledore, steepling his fingers and looking, momentarily, solemn and wise. The effect was ruined the next instant when he popped a lemon drop in his mouth. "However, there are other considerations."
"Such as?"
"Such as the fact that your other self has escaped from Azkaban. While my regard for Cornelius Fudge and the Ministry is somewhat--limited, I would doubt if even Fudge could ignore the presence of a homicidal maniac strolling through the Department of Mysteries."
Dumbledore frowned. "The potential for disaster is vast. You could be wounded and captured. Sent back to Azkaban in the other's place. Killed."
"Even if they caught me, there's still Veritaserum..."
"Which was not administered to you when you were arrested, or so you said," Dumbledore said, sighing heavily. "Furthermore, your alternate self is, if you recall, delusional. A delusional person cannot be questioned under Veritaserum, for he knows his delusions are reality. Your tales of coming from another world would be seen as just another form of the other Sirius' madness. Moreover, I rather doubt that Fudge would accept my word as a Legilimens that you are, indeed, you; he would believe that I was trying to undermine his authority by calling his competence into question. Fudge sees the other one as a threat to society, and he is right."
"So I can't go, and I can't stay." Sirius glanced about the office and felt, just for a moment, as if he were back in his cell at Azkaban--imprisoned with fears and nightmares, unable to escape to another world which was, tauntingly, just out of reach.
"You cannot stay here indefinitely, certainly," said Dumbledore. "Yet at the same time, bundling you off to the Department of Mysteries could result in calamity. I do not know what the result would be if you were killed in this dimension, or what effect it would have on a multitude of realities, but I confess that I am not willing to gamble with the fate of the universe."
"I think you're overstating the case," Sirius said in irritation. "I'm no one important in my own world--well, maybe important to my friends and my godson, but, basically, I'm just a fugitive. If I died, my death would disturb a few people. But not the universe."
"It is not always on the great and the powerful that the fate of a world may depend," Dumbledore said gently. "Look at young Harry. And with two worlds involved--no, I'm afraid you will have to remain here until your alternate is captured and identified. Otherwise, you run the risk of suffering for his crimes while he runs free."
"I'd take that risk," Sirius said quietly, "if it meant that I could go home."
Dumbledore's face sagged with sadness. "I know."
***
Following that conversation, Sirius began spending a lot of time as Padfoot.
This was no more than common sense; the other Sirius' escape from Azkaban had been trumpeted to every nook and cranny in the wizarding world. He could hardly wander around Hogwarts in human form without panicking half of the residents. Including the ghosts. And leaving Hogwarts wasn't much of an option, either--not with Dementors guarding practically every gate and passageway into and out of the school.
The level of security was hardly surprising, though. Remus was unquestionably the other Sirius' chief interest, but others at the school might well seem to be "obstacles" to the non-existent love affair.
Dumbledore.
Snape.
Harry.
On the other hand, being Padfoot presented its own problems--such as the fact that practically everyone who saw Sirius' Animagus form reacted to him as if he were a portent of death. It was a tad difficult to guard Harry from an erotomaniac who saw the boy as a barrier to his eternal happiness when most of Harry's friends and half of his teachers regarded Padfoot as a Grim.
He struggled to be unobtrusive--not the easiest thing to do when he was a huge, bear-like, black dog.
He hid in shade, and lurked in shadows.
He shunned Remus, for which he suspected that the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was profoundly grateful.
He hunted his other self on a daily basis, albeit without success.
He spent a great deal of time under the seats on the Quidditch pitch, watching thirteen-year-old Harry practising for this match or that.
As often as possible, he would listen to Harry--who always seemed to be more garrulous after Quidditch practice--talking to Ron or Hermione about inconsequential things, like reports for History of Magic, or complaints about Sibyll Trelawney's maddening Divination class.
I'll never get out of here, Sirius thought with increasing frequency as, in dog form, he watched the moon waxing night after night. The other Sirius must have recognised the impossibility of hurting Remus at Hogwarts. He must have given up, fled the country, begun building a life elsewhere.
And Merlin only knew how swiftly time was passing in his own universe.
He had nightmarish visions of each day in this world being a year, maybe even a decade, in his own. Of finally returning to his own world and learning--by means of a name on a mossy, crumbling tombstone--that Remus, his Remus, had been dead and gone for three hundred years or more, his body little more than skeletal fragments, his soul gone somewhere that Sirius could never reach...
No. That will not happen. Whatever power created all the universes and sent me scrabbling through each one couldn't possibly be that cruel.
Could it?
He was bizarrely grateful when, the day after the full moon, the other Sirius began slipping messages into the bills that Remus received by owl post. If nothing else, it meant that the other Sirius was still about--and could still be captured or killed.
Remus bore the messages stoically. He paled and tensed when he opened his mail and saw them, but that was all.
Until the Howler arrived, that is.
It looked like any other Howler--a red envelope that was smoking slightly. Sirius, who was curled up beneath the staff table as Padfoot, disliked the smell at once--it smelled partly like Sirius himself and partly like stale sweat, rusty iron and rotting wood. And another smell underlying the others--the sour, acrid stink of rage. He wanted Remus to stay away from the source of that smell, though he didn't know why.
Padfoot heard Remus swear under his breath, then rip open the envelope.
The message, surprisingly, did not scream at Remus. It spoke in a whisper that reverberated to every corner of the room.
"I saw you yesterday as you walked the Hogwarts grounds. Seeing you once more took my breath away. I can't bear to be separated from you again. I need to be by your side once more, to show you a world of peace and joy, where we'll never be separated again..."
Padfoot heard a quickly murmured "Incendio!" He smelled, briefly, a small puff of smoke. Then he heard Remus' elbows thump down on the table as the man buried his head in his hands.
"An endless, eternal world of peace and joy," he heard Remus say in a muffled groan. "This is it. This time he's going to kill me."
***
"You are utterly and completely deranged, Mr. Black," Snape said with great deliberation as he folded his arms across his chest.
Sirius took a deep breath--or as deep a breath as he dared to take, this close to the Potions Classroom. Between the dankness of the Slytherin dungeons and the foul reek of chemicals, magical plants and parts of dead magical animals next door in the Potions Classroom and here in Snape's office, both the smell and the taste of the air was unendurable.
No wonder Moony was always such rubbish at Potions, he realised. Remus' sense of smell had always been strong, even in human form. Being in a classroom like that must have been unbearable.
"Snape," he said, struggling to be patient with this man--this version of a man--whom he had never liked. "It's the only logical thing to do."
"Logical?" Snape stared at him in disbelief. "You are talking about enticing a delusional man--who has killed six times at least, and who desperately wants to kill Lupin so that he can claim him forever--onto the grounds of Hogwarts."
"Where he can't Apparate or Disapparate. Yes."
"May I remind you of one word which might be pertinent to this discussion? Silver? Thanks to what Peter told him under torture, your alter ego knows about Lupin. That was how the other Black managed to cripple Lupin in the first place."
"He may not remember too clearly. Not after Azkaban."
"Of course, you forgot all that you ever knew of Remus Lupin in prison."
"I--lost some memories."
"Did you forget him altogether?" Snape sounded indifferent, almost bored by the question.
Sirius glowered, privately calling down ten thousand disasters on Snape's greasy head. The man had no business being so dispassionate. Merlin's balls, this was Remus they were talking about.
"I couldn't forget him altogether," he said, struggling to keep a snarl out of his voice and not quite succeeding."I--"
"If you say you love him, I swear in the name of Paracelsus that I will pour a Forgetfulness Potion down your throat. I have heard that entirely too many times from your alter ego for me to feel calm after hearing it from you as well."
Sirius couldn't stop himself. "You just can't stand knowing that love exists, can you? Once a Dark Wizard, always a Dark Wizard, eh, Snivellus?"
Snape gazed at him disdainfully. "That insult was juvenile when your alter ego was eleven. Coming from a grown man, it sounds positively infantile. Also, please recall, Mister Black--you are the one asking me for assistance. Insulting me might be considered to be counterproductive."
"You've already said that you aren't going to help."
"I have no objection to helping Lupin," said Snape with exaggerated patience. "I draw the line at reckless endangerment, however."
"If we could get the other Sirius to Hogwarts--maybe to Dumbledore's office...Dumbledore is one of the strongest wizards in the world. Surely--"
"No."
"You don't even know what I have in mind!"
"I know that you are eager to get back to"--Snape paused, and grimaced--"your Remus. So much so that you would endanger this Remus. Oh, I doubt not that you would like to free Remus from his pursuer. But more importantly, I think you want to free yourself of guilt. The mysterious hero from a faraway land, appearing at an enchanted castle to save someone who is the image of his long-lost beloved and who is being besieged by sheer evil...oh yes, very pretty. The problem is, you know nothing whatsoever of Sirius Black."
"I know everything about him," said Sirius, breathing hard. "He's me."
"You know nothing about him, for precisely that reason," Snape said impatiently, crossing his arms over his chest. "There are things you do not know about yourself. Things you do not wish to know."
"I know more than you think I do," Sirius retorted. "And I have to save Remus. He's my life."
"Would it be marginally possible for you to cease speaking like the protagonist of one of Sibyll Trelawney's favourite romance novels for a fraction of a second? Remus Lupin--whether in this world or in your own--is not your life. You have your own life. And he has his."
"Someone has to do something!"
Snape sat down at his desk and began rummaging through some scrolls, most of which were rather grubby and ink-blotted. "I am using what arts I possess to protect Lupin, Mr. Black. As, I might add, are others. He is not helpless or abandoned, as you seem to believe. Your primary task, at this juncture, is to wait. Your alter ego should be captured soon, and then you may leave. Though I do realise that your departure cannot come too soon for either of us."
"You expect me to just sit around and wait while this lunatic threatens and tries to kill Remus?" Sirius clenched his fists and struggled not to envision smashing Snape's huge nose into his sallow face. The picture was disturbingly attractive.
Snape gazed at Sirius with disdain. "I expect you to do nothing--letting those who know the situation best handle it. You wanted assistance in protecting Lupin and in capturing your alter ego. I have assured you that protection is in place and that the other Sirius will be captured soon. It seems to me that you got exactly what you asked for. Yet it does not satisfy you. I wonder why."
Snape regarded Sirius with weary disgust for a moment before turning back to the papers on his desk. "Now. If you will excuse me, I must correct some of the more blatant errors of the unintelligent, the untalented and the uninterested. Do run along. And please, Mr. Black--stay out of the way of the grownups." So saying, he plucked the first roll of parchment from the top of the pile and began to read.
***
Veilfic--Erotomania, Part 1
Veilfic--Erotomania, Part 2
Veilfic--Erotomania, Part 3
Veilfic--Erotomania, Part 4
***
After the Pensieve incident, Sirius fully expected to be ordered to make his way to the Ministry of Magic and leave this dimension forever. Snape detested him, Remus feared him, and Dumbledore clearly knew too much about his alternative self to regard him as anything other than mad, bad and dangerous to know.
And be honest, he told himself bitterly. You want to run. You want to walk through the Veil, find your own world--or a pleasant variant--and pretend that none of this ever happened.
However, Dumbledore was most emphatic--leaving was not an option.
"I can't believe you care that much about my continued good health," he snarled when Dumbledore informed him that, contrary to all of his expectations, he would be remaining here for some time. "And what do you think this is going to do to Remus, seeing the man who killed his best friends--and who crippled him--wandering around Hogwarts? It'll drive him crazy. You know it will. He can barely stand being in the same room with me."
Not to mention that the wolf would probably tear his throat out with a cheerful howl at the next full moon. Or that Snape would be more than willing to help.
"Your point is well-taken," said Dumbledore, steepling his fingers and looking, momentarily, solemn and wise. The effect was ruined the next instant when he popped a lemon drop in his mouth. "However, there are other considerations."
"Such as?"
"Such as the fact that your other self has escaped from Azkaban. While my regard for Cornelius Fudge and the Ministry is somewhat--limited, I would doubt if even Fudge could ignore the presence of a homicidal maniac strolling through the Department of Mysteries."
Dumbledore frowned. "The potential for disaster is vast. You could be wounded and captured. Sent back to Azkaban in the other's place. Killed."
"Even if they caught me, there's still Veritaserum..."
"Which was not administered to you when you were arrested, or so you said," Dumbledore said, sighing heavily. "Furthermore, your alternate self is, if you recall, delusional. A delusional person cannot be questioned under Veritaserum, for he knows his delusions are reality. Your tales of coming from another world would be seen as just another form of the other Sirius' madness. Moreover, I rather doubt that Fudge would accept my word as a Legilimens that you are, indeed, you; he would believe that I was trying to undermine his authority by calling his competence into question. Fudge sees the other one as a threat to society, and he is right."
"So I can't go, and I can't stay." Sirius glanced about the office and felt, just for a moment, as if he were back in his cell at Azkaban--imprisoned with fears and nightmares, unable to escape to another world which was, tauntingly, just out of reach.
"You cannot stay here indefinitely, certainly," said Dumbledore. "Yet at the same time, bundling you off to the Department of Mysteries could result in calamity. I do not know what the result would be if you were killed in this dimension, or what effect it would have on a multitude of realities, but I confess that I am not willing to gamble with the fate of the universe."
"I think you're overstating the case," Sirius said in irritation. "I'm no one important in my own world--well, maybe important to my friends and my godson, but, basically, I'm just a fugitive. If I died, my death would disturb a few people. But not the universe."
"It is not always on the great and the powerful that the fate of a world may depend," Dumbledore said gently. "Look at young Harry. And with two worlds involved--no, I'm afraid you will have to remain here until your alternate is captured and identified. Otherwise, you run the risk of suffering for his crimes while he runs free."
"I'd take that risk," Sirius said quietly, "if it meant that I could go home."
Dumbledore's face sagged with sadness. "I know."
***
Following that conversation, Sirius began spending a lot of time as Padfoot.
This was no more than common sense; the other Sirius' escape from Azkaban had been trumpeted to every nook and cranny in the wizarding world. He could hardly wander around Hogwarts in human form without panicking half of the residents. Including the ghosts. And leaving Hogwarts wasn't much of an option, either--not with Dementors guarding practically every gate and passageway into and out of the school.
The level of security was hardly surprising, though. Remus was unquestionably the other Sirius' chief interest, but others at the school might well seem to be "obstacles" to the non-existent love affair.
Dumbledore.
Snape.
Harry.
On the other hand, being Padfoot presented its own problems--such as the fact that practically everyone who saw Sirius' Animagus form reacted to him as if he were a portent of death. It was a tad difficult to guard Harry from an erotomaniac who saw the boy as a barrier to his eternal happiness when most of Harry's friends and half of his teachers regarded Padfoot as a Grim.
He struggled to be unobtrusive--not the easiest thing to do when he was a huge, bear-like, black dog.
He hid in shade, and lurked in shadows.
He shunned Remus, for which he suspected that the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was profoundly grateful.
He hunted his other self on a daily basis, albeit without success.
He spent a great deal of time under the seats on the Quidditch pitch, watching thirteen-year-old Harry practising for this match or that.
As often as possible, he would listen to Harry--who always seemed to be more garrulous after Quidditch practice--talking to Ron or Hermione about inconsequential things, like reports for History of Magic, or complaints about Sibyll Trelawney's maddening Divination class.
I'll never get out of here, Sirius thought with increasing frequency as, in dog form, he watched the moon waxing night after night. The other Sirius must have recognised the impossibility of hurting Remus at Hogwarts. He must have given up, fled the country, begun building a life elsewhere.
And Merlin only knew how swiftly time was passing in his own universe.
He had nightmarish visions of each day in this world being a year, maybe even a decade, in his own. Of finally returning to his own world and learning--by means of a name on a mossy, crumbling tombstone--that Remus, his Remus, had been dead and gone for three hundred years or more, his body little more than skeletal fragments, his soul gone somewhere that Sirius could never reach...
No. That will not happen. Whatever power created all the universes and sent me scrabbling through each one couldn't possibly be that cruel.
Could it?
He was bizarrely grateful when, the day after the full moon, the other Sirius began slipping messages into the bills that Remus received by owl post. If nothing else, it meant that the other Sirius was still about--and could still be captured or killed.
Remus bore the messages stoically. He paled and tensed when he opened his mail and saw them, but that was all.
Until the Howler arrived, that is.
It looked like any other Howler--a red envelope that was smoking slightly. Sirius, who was curled up beneath the staff table as Padfoot, disliked the smell at once--it smelled partly like Sirius himself and partly like stale sweat, rusty iron and rotting wood. And another smell underlying the others--the sour, acrid stink of rage. He wanted Remus to stay away from the source of that smell, though he didn't know why.
Padfoot heard Remus swear under his breath, then rip open the envelope.
The message, surprisingly, did not scream at Remus. It spoke in a whisper that reverberated to every corner of the room.
"I saw you yesterday as you walked the Hogwarts grounds. Seeing you once more took my breath away. I can't bear to be separated from you again. I need to be by your side once more, to show you a world of peace and joy, where we'll never be separated again..."
Padfoot heard a quickly murmured "Incendio!" He smelled, briefly, a small puff of smoke. Then he heard Remus' elbows thump down on the table as the man buried his head in his hands.
"An endless, eternal world of peace and joy," he heard Remus say in a muffled groan. "This is it. This time he's going to kill me."
***
"You are utterly and completely deranged, Mr. Black," Snape said with great deliberation as he folded his arms across his chest.
Sirius took a deep breath--or as deep a breath as he dared to take, this close to the Potions Classroom. Between the dankness of the Slytherin dungeons and the foul reek of chemicals, magical plants and parts of dead magical animals next door in the Potions Classroom and here in Snape's office, both the smell and the taste of the air was unendurable.
No wonder Moony was always such rubbish at Potions, he realised. Remus' sense of smell had always been strong, even in human form. Being in a classroom like that must have been unbearable.
"Snape," he said, struggling to be patient with this man--this version of a man--whom he had never liked. "It's the only logical thing to do."
"Logical?" Snape stared at him in disbelief. "You are talking about enticing a delusional man--who has killed six times at least, and who desperately wants to kill Lupin so that he can claim him forever--onto the grounds of Hogwarts."
"Where he can't Apparate or Disapparate. Yes."
"May I remind you of one word which might be pertinent to this discussion? Silver? Thanks to what Peter told him under torture, your alter ego knows about Lupin. That was how the other Black managed to cripple Lupin in the first place."
"He may not remember too clearly. Not after Azkaban."
"Of course, you forgot all that you ever knew of Remus Lupin in prison."
"I--lost some memories."
"Did you forget him altogether?" Snape sounded indifferent, almost bored by the question.
Sirius glowered, privately calling down ten thousand disasters on Snape's greasy head. The man had no business being so dispassionate. Merlin's balls, this was Remus they were talking about.
"I couldn't forget him altogether," he said, struggling to keep a snarl out of his voice and not quite succeeding."I--"
"If you say you love him, I swear in the name of Paracelsus that I will pour a Forgetfulness Potion down your throat. I have heard that entirely too many times from your alter ego for me to feel calm after hearing it from you as well."
Sirius couldn't stop himself. "You just can't stand knowing that love exists, can you? Once a Dark Wizard, always a Dark Wizard, eh, Snivellus?"
Snape gazed at him disdainfully. "That insult was juvenile when your alter ego was eleven. Coming from a grown man, it sounds positively infantile. Also, please recall, Mister Black--you are the one asking me for assistance. Insulting me might be considered to be counterproductive."
"You've already said that you aren't going to help."
"I have no objection to helping Lupin," said Snape with exaggerated patience. "I draw the line at reckless endangerment, however."
"If we could get the other Sirius to Hogwarts--maybe to Dumbledore's office...Dumbledore is one of the strongest wizards in the world. Surely--"
"No."
"You don't even know what I have in mind!"
"I know that you are eager to get back to"--Snape paused, and grimaced--"your Remus. So much so that you would endanger this Remus. Oh, I doubt not that you would like to free Remus from his pursuer. But more importantly, I think you want to free yourself of guilt. The mysterious hero from a faraway land, appearing at an enchanted castle to save someone who is the image of his long-lost beloved and who is being besieged by sheer evil...oh yes, very pretty. The problem is, you know nothing whatsoever of Sirius Black."
"I know everything about him," said Sirius, breathing hard. "He's me."
"You know nothing about him, for precisely that reason," Snape said impatiently, crossing his arms over his chest. "There are things you do not know about yourself. Things you do not wish to know."
"I know more than you think I do," Sirius retorted. "And I have to save Remus. He's my life."
"Would it be marginally possible for you to cease speaking like the protagonist of one of Sibyll Trelawney's favourite romance novels for a fraction of a second? Remus Lupin--whether in this world or in your own--is not your life. You have your own life. And he has his."
"Someone has to do something!"
Snape sat down at his desk and began rummaging through some scrolls, most of which were rather grubby and ink-blotted. "I am using what arts I possess to protect Lupin, Mr. Black. As, I might add, are others. He is not helpless or abandoned, as you seem to believe. Your primary task, at this juncture, is to wait. Your alter ego should be captured soon, and then you may leave. Though I do realise that your departure cannot come too soon for either of us."
"You expect me to just sit around and wait while this lunatic threatens and tries to kill Remus?" Sirius clenched his fists and struggled not to envision smashing Snape's huge nose into his sallow face. The picture was disturbingly attractive.
Snape gazed at Sirius with disdain. "I expect you to do nothing--letting those who know the situation best handle it. You wanted assistance in protecting Lupin and in capturing your alter ego. I have assured you that protection is in place and that the other Sirius will be captured soon. It seems to me that you got exactly what you asked for. Yet it does not satisfy you. I wonder why."
Snape regarded Sirius with weary disgust for a moment before turning back to the papers on his desk. "Now. If you will excuse me, I must correct some of the more blatant errors of the unintelligent, the untalented and the uninterested. Do run along. And please, Mr. Black--stay out of the way of the grownups." So saying, he plucked the first roll of parchment from the top of the pile and began to read.
***