[FIC] What Secrets Keep - R - S/R - 14/16+epi
Title: What Secrets Keep
Series: What...
Author: jenexell
Pairings and Characters:Sirius/Remus (implied past relationship), Harry, Ron, Hermione, Pettigrew (the usual suspects)
Rating: R - Some not so pleasant imagery here and there.
Disclaimer: If this was real, I wouldn't share. As its not, I'm sharing with no personal gain or profit, other than perhaps to feed my attention whore complex. non-recognisable elements are mine! plagiarists will be eaten alive by weasels. Much information has been gleaned from the books (obviously), films, various Wiki's, other internet sources and my font of all HP knowledge ttfan.
Distribution: My Journal (jenexell), and quite a few other places too. (attention whore complex). If you want it, link back to my journal, don't steal its naughty.
Warnings: None for now.
Spoilers: Everything and nothing. Set during Book 2, Chamber of Secrets, but does diverge quite wildly from cannon in some respects. References pretty much everything, although I'm trying to ignore Pottermore because she keeps messing up my backstories!
Summary:Au Book 2. Sometimes there are just too many secrets, and sometimes all it takes to start unravelling them is a failed spell from a broken wand. But with secrets, lies, half truths, mysteries and a giant snake in the pipework, who can be believed?
Previous Parts:
::Prologue::1::2::3::4::5::6::7::8::9::10::11::12::13
Part Fourteen - Passages
“I don’t know why you’re worrying. You’re not the one about to be expelled.”
Hermione, her arms folded resolutely over her chest, looked back over her shoulder from where she’d been staring at the spines of the books on Dumbledore’s shelves and shot an exasperated glare.
The three of them had been waiting in the Headmaster’s office for what seemed like hours. Could well have been hours given how the sun was beginning to come up.
Professor McGonagall had sent them here to wait after Madame Pomfrey had checked Harry and Ron over. Despite being dirty and bit banged up the boys were fine. Harry needed some kind of potion that sounded to Hermione like a kind of multivitamin because of the Basilisk venom draining a lot of his resources, but other than that, their time in the infirmary had mostly been spent in Pomfrey’s office, explaining to Dumbledore and McGonagall what had happened in the Chamber, while Pomfrey looked after Ginny out in the infirmary. Then a message had come saying that Ginny and Ron’s parents had arrived, and McGonagall had ordered them to leave without so much as a hint as to their fates.
Not that Hermione was overly concerned that she would be expelled. No, thanks to her failed attempt to get help, she’d only broken a few minor rules. Harry and Ron on the other hand. Well she’d lost count of the rules they’d broken.
It wasn’t fair. She knew they’d broken the rules, but they’d saved Ginny, and Harry had not only defeated a Basilisk, but he’d defeated Voldermort. Again!
That should really count for something. Really really should.
“Can you two not fight right now?” Harry sighed tiredly, slumping against a pillar. “Please?”
Worriedly, Hermione stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm. “Are you alright Harry?”
Harry shrugged and shook his head. “Just tired and...” He looked away.
Hermione noticed Ron come over out of the corner of her eye. “And what Harry?”
Harry sighed deeply and looked away. “I don’t want to be expelled Hermione. I can’t be... I... you two have somewhere to go if something happens. If I get expelled I’ll have to go back to...”
“To those flea bitten miserable piles of stinking troll dung you call relatives.” Ron sneered angrily, then his face turned thoughtful. “You know Harry, if you told mum and dad everything, you know, about how they are, I’m sure they’d let you come stay with us. Could be fun.”
“It’s not that simple Ronald.” Hermione huffed. “You can’t just choose who you live with. Not when you’re only twelve anyway.”
“Doesn’t matter anyway.” Harry sighed, looking away.
Impulsively, Hermione took Harry into a hug, feeling him stiffen against her as he always did before relaxing and returning it. “It’ll be alright Harry, It will.”
“Yeah.” Ron agreed, patting his shoulder. “We’ll work something out.”
Pulling back from Hermione, Harry offered them both a weak smile. “Thanks guys.”
The catch of the door latch made them step apart, and all three watched warily as the Headmaster seemed to glide into the room, his face sober as he approached.
He didn’t say a word as he passed them, merely sat behind his desk and waited until they lined up before him. Finally, his index fingers pressed against his lips, he surveyed each in turn over the top of his half moon spectacles before laying his hands in his lap, sitting back and speaking.
“You realise of course, that over the course of the last few hours, the three of you have broken perhaps a dozen school rules. You less so Miss Granger, but you have still chosen to ignore and defy the authority of your teachers in ways that could have endangered yourself and others.”
Head suitably bowed, beside her Hermione heard rather than saw Ron swallow stiffly. In unison the three replied. “Yes Sir.”
“There is sufficient evidence,” Dumbledore continued sharply. “To have all three of you expelled.”
“But...” Hermione argued, but quickly ducked her head again at the look the Headmaster shot her.
Dumbledore let the words sink in, then took a deep breath. “Therefore, it is only fitting, that you two boys, both receive Special Awards for Services to the School. And you Miss Granger, will receive a Special Commendation for your courage and your loyalty, as well as your clear headedness in a crisis.”
Hermione blinked then looked up. First at the Headmaster, and then at Harry and Ron who were looking back at her and then at each other with the same look of stupefied relief that she must have been wearing. An award for Special Services for the School? That was the highest accolade the school could award. And a Commendation for her? She hadn’t done anything. Except run off like a some heartbroken airhead and get herself caught by Filch.
Ron was the first to break the stunned silence. “Cor... thanks sir.”
“Yes... Yes, thank you Professor.” Hermione chipped in, as Harry nodded speechlessly beside her.
Dumbledore smiled back, his eyes twinkly and his face full of warmth. Yet there was an exasperated edge to his expression that let Hermione know they had worried the Headmaster far more than he was about to admit.
Pushing away from the desk, Dumbledore picked up a folded parchment from the surface and rose to his feet, moving to step around to their side. “Now Mr Weasley, if you would. Have an owl deliver these release papers to Azkaban.”
Having reached Ron’s side, he lay a hand on the boy’s shoulder, turning him towards the door and ducking his head to speak quietly. “I believe we want our game keeper back.”
Ron took the papers with a happy nod, and as he did so, Dumbledore looked over his shoulder, catching Hermione’s eye.
Hurrying over, Hermione looked up the Headmaster as he ushered Ron on, then turned to her, keeping them both with their backs to Harry. Dropping his head and his voice even lower, he smiled knowingly. “I am sure you will understand, that Hagrid may not appreciate returning to find his home already occupied.”
Wide eyed, Hermione tried to take a step back, but Dumbledore’s hand was like iron at her back and his expression although not unfriendly, had turned serious. “I know of your loyalty and perhaps some of your reasons for it Miss Granger. So now I believe it is time for me to fully understand it yes?”
Swallowing nervously, Hermione nodded. “Yes sir.”
“Then might I also recommend evening, as an opportune time for a stroll through the grounds?” Dumbledore suggested mysteriously, nodding sagely when he knew his message had been understood.
With a final nod. Hermione acknowledged her dismissal and shot for the door.
She didn’t even care what it was Dumbledore clearly wanted to talk to Harry about.
He knew! Dumbledore knew!
~HpɸqH~
Harry walked slowly towards Gryffindor Tower, a tired grin plastered on his face. It had been highly satisfying to get one over on Malfoy Senior, and he felt a warmth inside him at the knowledge he’d done something good. It was nice, and he couldn’t wait to tell the others about it.
Or Sirius. He’d avoided mentioning anything about certain house-elves and attempts on his life in front of his godfather and for good reason. Just talking about the times he’d spent with Pettigrew had set Sirius off on a couple of quite intimidating rants. Harry got the feeling Sirius could be quite scary when he wanted to be, and he often wanted to be when people threatened him. So telling him about Dobby hadn’t really felt like a wise thing to do.
But now he knew what was going on and it was all over he felt like he could share. Hell he wanted to share.
It was a nice feeling. Wanting to share things with Sirius. He wasn’t used to that. The only people he could ever remember wanting to share anything with were Ron and Hermione, and maybe Seamus and Neville to a lesser extent. Sharing things like this with an adult? Knowing that an adult would want to listen? That was new.
And Harry liked it. He really liked it.
There were no lessons today, and everyone was free to roam about as they pleased with the Basilisk gone, so maybe they could sneak down to Hagrid’s a bit earlier today.
With that in mind, Harry trotted up the stairs, waiting a little impatiently while they moved round to position that would actually let him reach his common room, then continued on, already working out in his head how they might best get down there.
“Harry!”
Harry halted at the call of his name, and his brow crumpled into a frown as he saw Hermione and Ron sat on the stairs near the entrance to the tower.
“What are you two doing out here?” Harry shook his head in disbelief, then looking at Ron, his scowl became genuine. “And why do you have my cloak?”
“He knows Harry.” Hermione whispered urgently having rushed up to him. “Dumbledore knows about Sirius. He advised me that Hagrid might not appreciate coming back to find his home occupied, and that evening would be a good time for a stroll in the grounds. I think he knows Sirius is an animagus too. He said he knew why I was loyal to him. I think he knows that it was Sirius that saved me from the Basilisk!”
For a moment Harry couldn’t say anything. His throat felt tight and his heart felt ready to explode. Sirius. Dumbledore knew about Sirius, and even thought Harry knew Sirius had been trying to find Dumbledore the idea that he’d been found out filled Harry with terror. What if Dumbledore didn’t believe him? What if Dumbledore had already sent for the Ministry and they put Sirius back in that terrible prison? He’d only just found him, he couldn’t lose him now!
But then his own conversation with Dumbledore played over in Harry’s mind. He’d been so consumed with everything that had happened earlier, and then with getting one over on Malfoy senior, payback for what he’d done to Ginny, the Headmaster’s words hadn’t really registered at the time.
“He reminded me of something he’s told me before.” Harry muttered thoughtfully. “He said to remember that Hogwarts didn’t just give help to those who needed it, but those who asked for it.” Suddenly, he understood. “That’s what he meant! An evening stroll, asking for help. Hermione, he wants Sirius to come here this evening! He wants to hear him out! He wants to help!”
~HpɸqH~
Windows illuminated one by one as dark crept over the castle. In the clearness of the March sky, the stars seemed to sparkle.
High up in Gryffindor Tower, Harry sat in the alcove of the window, knees tucked up to his chin as he gazed out over the Black Lake. He couldn’t see Hagrid’s hut from his vantage point but he could imagine it in his mind’s eye. Could imagine the occupants still within.
He could remember his promise. The one Sirius had extracted from him. Whatever happened tonight, he was to stay safely within Gryffindor Tower.
“Let me go with you!”
“Harry... there is no guarantee that tonight will go like we hope it will. You shouldn’t have to see that.”
“But you’re innocent!”
“And you know it! That will be enough... for now.”
“But...”
“No...”
“Sirius.”
“I suppose you’re tired of hearing this, but you are so much like your father. He would have walked into the fires of hell at my side as I would have at his. Your eyes though, you have...”
“My mother’s eyes.”
“And she would have had my hide for a throw rug if she knew I’d taken you with me tonight. It’s cruel, that I got to spend so much time with James and Lily and you so little. But know this Harry, no matter what happens, those that love us never really leave us. And you can always find them, in here.”
Harry rubbed his hand over his breast bone, where Sirius had laid his hand. Over his heart. It had been a goodbye. Harry knew that. Just in case it all went wrong. Just in case Dumbledore didn’t believe.
Curling his arms back around his knees, Harry continued to stare out of the window as the last light left the sky.
The moon traced higher, one by one the lamps behind the windows were extinguished. The castle became a looming dark silhouette against the starry sky.
But one window remained lit.
Blue eyes stared up at it. Arms that once held great strength, but now were thin and wasted through years of starvation hugged a ragged and threadbare overcoat around a too thin body.
“Ready Padfoot?”
Sirius looked over his shoulder at Remus stood a just a step behind him. Padfoot. Remus hadn’t called him that since before Azkaban. At least as far as Sirius could recall; he knew his mind wasn’t what it should be sometimes.
It seemed fitting somehow anyway; how many times had Remus been there for him before a summons to the Headmaster’s office? Too many to count. And now sixteen years later here he was again.
He’d never been this worried about a meeting before though. Only one incident had come close, and for obvious reasons Remus hadn’t been there for him then. He was here now though, and thinking back to that awful night just made his presence all the more incredible. There weren’t words to express his gratitude, his awe and his appreciation.
Taking a deep breath and pulling away from the reassuring amber gaze, Sirius looked back up to that one lit window high up in one of the towers.
“I’m ready.”
The temptation to transform was incredible. Life was so much easier as a dog. And safer. But he didn’t. He would walk into the school as a man. And perhaps tomorrow, he would be able to walk through the front door as a free one.
A free man. What a concept. No more running. No more hiding. He could have his life back.
No. No he couldn’t. His life had been Remus. Had been James and Lily and Baby Harry. Had been his work as an Auror and his devotion to the war against dark wizardry.
Everything was so different now. There would be no stepping back in where he left off. But maybe something new. Maybe something not better, but different?
“Concentrate on getting through tonight first.” Remus’ voice chuckled behind him.
Swallowing sharply, Sirius pursed his lips tightly together. Damn. He’d been doing so well at the not talking to himself the last week or so.
“Don’t worry, you weren’t talking to yourself, but I have to wonder what made you grin like that. What were you thinking about anyway?”
“Harry.” Sirius admitted. “You think.... you think he’d agree if I asked him to live with me?”
Remus was quiet for longer than Sirius would have liked as the climbed the path towards the school, but eventually he sighed. “One step at a time Padfoot.”
“Right.” Sirius sighed. Remus was right. One step at a time. First of which was getting into the castle. They’d long left the path, and were traversing the steep side of the hill, scrambling around rocks and plants up against the castle wall. Finally after almost falling for what felt like the hundredth time, Sirius groaned, and turned round to face Remus, holding out his hand. “Wand.”
“What?” Remus replied, startled by the abrupt stop and request.
“Don’t be an idiot Remus, give me your wand. I can’t see sod all out here.”
“Oh.” Remus replied a little stupidly, fishing into his pocket and pulling out his wand.
Taking it, Sirius let it sit in his hand for a moment. Remus’ wand had never sat all that comfortably with him. Then again few people’s wands did, just like his felt uncomfortable to nearly everyone he knew who’d tried it. His wand. It was long snapped now. Damn the Ministry. Well at least Remus’ wand was used to him, even if it didn’t feel right. He could feel the wands reluctant acceptance of his use of it. The wand remembered.
“Lumos minima.” He whispered, and at the wands tip a faint glow appeared. Not enough to draw attention, but enough that if he shone it at the ground he could see where he was going. Unlike Remus, he didn’t have lycanthropic night vision.
A little further along, their progress much easier now Sirius wasn’t tripping every couple of steps, they reached a section of wall covered in ivy. Pushing aside the vines revealed a metal grate, which opened with only a firm tug. Holding it open, Sirius made a gallant gesture. “After you.”
Remus chuckled and shook his head. “Oh no. I insist.”
“Coward.” Sirius shot back jokingly, stepping into the damp tunnel.
“Yep.” Remus replied as he pulled the grate closed behind himself. “You’re my human shield if someone discovers us.”
“Charming Moony.” Sirius snorted back, bent almost double in the cramped space.
It occurred to Sirius that they shouldn’t be joking like this. That at no time had anything been more serious. And yet it was a combination of memory and gallows humour that seemed to have taken control of his tongue tonight, and apparently, Remus’ too.
“You know,” Sirius spoke up again after they’d both squeezed through a tight passage. “I remember these tunnels being a lot bigger when we were at school.”
“That’s because we were a lot smaller most of the time.” Remus answered glibly. “I certainly remember healing a fair few grazed foreheads in seventh year.”
“I think that had more to do with us banging our heads on our desks in frustration at our assignments. Funny how dire things like that seemed back then.” Sirius mused.
“Oh to be seventeen again.” Remus joked back.
“Not on your life. Now twenty. I could do being twenty again.” Sirius laughed. “That was a good year.”
“If you look past the Death Eaters, the War, Lily’s pregnancy mood swings and James flying about in a near constant panic.” Remus recalled dryly. “I suppose it was.”
“Good times.”
Again they lapsed into silence, and Sirius wondered if Remus was also replaying moments of that year in his head. Despite everything it had been a good year, and infinitely better than what came later. By the time Sirius had turned twenty two, the war had been at its peak, his brother had been killed, the entire Order had been on a knife edge with the knowledge of a traitor in their midst, Remus had left him and James and Lily had gone into hiding with baby Harry. A week later Peter had betrayed them, Voldermort had murdered James and Lily, Harry had been orphaned, the war had ended and Sirius had been on his way to Azkaban with no trial, no friends and no hope of clearing his name.
So yeah, he would quite happily do twenty again. He’d do a lot of it differently, but he’d do it again. It was the years that followed he would not repeat. He hadn’t mentioned it to Remus, it wouldn’t be fair. But no matter what Dumbledore said, Sirius knew he wouldn’t be going back to Azkaban. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.
Not now.
He would escape again. Or he would die trying. He didn’t want to die. Not now that Harry knew the truth, not now when hope seemed so close at hand. But he would never return to that island, nor feel the cold grip of a Dementor again as long as he had the strength to stop it, one way or another.
With that in mind, Sirius quickened his pace. He wanted this over with. He wanted to know his fate and he wanted to see justice. He wanted the truth known and for Pettigrew to get what he deserved.
Maybe he would go back to Azkaban. As a visitor. To see Pettigrew. To give him that tie to reality that would keep him from the blissful oblivion of utter madness. Because Sirius knew, he’d seen with his own eyes, that although Azkaban was a fate worse than death, there were those who had been there long enough that they’d escaped within their own minds. To a place safe from the Dementors. That was too good for Pettigrew. He deserved to suffer endlessly for what he’d done. For the grief he’d caused.
Dumbledore had to believe him. He had hope now that the Headmaster would. Remus did. Harry did. Harry’s friends did (Well he wasn’t sure about the Weasley boy, but Sirius got the impression that Ronald Weasley was the kind to cling to an idea even if presented with irrefutable evidence to the contrary, just for the pure bloody-mindedness of it). For so long he’d felt so alone in the truth. So isolated. It had been more than rage and madness that had driven him to try and kill Peter, it had been a conviction that it was the only way to achieve any kind of justice.
They weren’t far from the Headmaster’s office now. The corridor on the other side of the panelled tunnel wall would lead them there.
“Anyone on the other side?” he whispered to Remus, knowing his sense of smell and his hearing were far more reliable than his own. He held his breath to make it easier to hear since he knew with how bad the pair of them must smell, it wouldn’t be easy for Remus to use his nose.
Eventually, just when Sirius thought he would either have to breathe or pass out, Remus shook his head.
Letting out the air he’d been holding in a rush, Sirius leant against the wall for a second while his head stopped spinning, then he handed Remus back his wand and began to work his fingers around the wall surface, trying to find the edge of a panel.
“Ah ha.” He whispered triumphantly, and with a little scratching, pushing and tugging, he managed to get his blackened, broken nails into a crack. “Give us a hand.”
Remus nodded, popping his wand behind his ear, and together they managed to pry the panel away from its fixings. If the panels weren’t so hard to prize open in the first place, they would have used them more often during their school days. As it was they’d hinged a couple of panels in key locations during their time, but never seen fit to do one close to the Headmaster’s office. That was asking for trouble.
It was slow work. To do it any quicker would result in breaking the panel and making a noise no-one could ignore. A final push and they moved it enough to make a gap just wide enough for them to squeeze through and once out, the panel popped easily back into place.
Dusting themselves down and doing their best to straighten up - a rather futile effort considering they only had two and half sets of clothes between them and washing spells only went so far - the pair moved down the darkened hallway towards the Gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore’s office.
Harry hadn’t given them a password, one of the reasons Remus had originally been reluctant to interpret Dumbledore’s message as the children had, but Sirius had an idea. Walking up to the apparently immobile statue, he coughed.
The faint sound of grinding stone, and the Gargoyle’s stone eyes opened, the head tilting ever so slightly.
“We’re here to see Professor Dumbledore, he’s expecting us.” Sirius told it, his best official voice in place.
The Gargoyle looked him up and down, then over his shoulder at Remus, before nodding stiffly and stepping aside.
“Thank you.” Sirius offered a little imperiously, before stepping quickly forward. It wasn’t until they reached the stairs, and they began to turn that Sirius let his shoulders slump a bit. “Knew it would work.”
“Or it could have kicked up a right stink and brought the entire school running.” Remus replied a little caustically.
“Well it didn’t did it?” Sirius countered.
“Sometimes Sirius...” Remus growled, but then the stair stopped moving.
“Show time.” Sirius waggled his eyebrows, then feeling far less confident than he appeared, he stepped off the top step and onto the small landing.
He was twelve all over again, his first visit to the Headmaster’s office. All cocky and full of self righteousness on the outside, terrified on the inside, waiting to see the Headmaster for the first time and utterly convinced he was about to be expelled and would have to go home to his parents.
The feeling was so all consuming Sirius found himself frantically looking around for a Dementor.
“Sirius?” Remus asked curiously, having almost walked into Sirius’ back.
Shaking himself, Sirius shrugged off Remus’ concern. “I’m alright. Just had a bit of a moment.”
Nodding, and approaching the door, Remus raised his hand. “Then let’s get this done shall we?”
Sirius nodded and stepped up. Remus knocked. They waited.
“Enter.”
Sirius drew a deep breath as Remus pushed the latch and opened the door.
Stepping through was once again like stepping into memory. Nothing had changed. Everything was exactly as he remembered it. Even Dumbledore, who was sat calmly behind his desk, his hands folded on the surface, and his face impassive behind his glasses.
For a moment, Sirius found he could only stare, then Dumbledore nodded ever so slightly. “Come in, both of you.”
As they approached, Dumbledore’s keen eyes tracked their movements, but he remained seated.
“Now,” Dumbledore finally spoke again once Sirius and Remus had reached his desk, “I understand that you both have something you wish to discuss with me?”
~HpɸqH~
Stepping out of the fireplace, Minerva McGonagall straightened her hat and cloak. Floo travel was convenient, but could be murder on one’s attire.
It wasn’t her favourite mode of transportation, but then again it wasn’t her least favourite either. At her age however, more often than not expediency rather than preference dictated the way in which she arrived at her destination.
Especially when time was apparently of the essence. She had no idea why time was so critical to her current task, but Albus had sent her a message with his request, and haste had most certainly been implied.
Something had to have happened. And there she had been, labouring under the apparently false assumption that everything was about to return to normal. To be honest, after months of sleepless nights, she’d been rather looking forward to getting reacquainted with her bed tonight.
The day had gone relatively smoothly. She’d stayed with the Weasleys until Poppy had given Ginny the all clear at which point her parents had understandably taken her home. Given what she had been through, Minerva understood the girl’s desire to be at home, and her parents’ wish to keep her close.
Once she’d seen the three of them off, she had returned to her office for a long meeting with Charity to take back the reigns of Gryffindor house, a burden the young Muggle Studies professor seemed only too willing to be relieved of.
Understandably there had been a lot of confusion amongst the students as to why they were suddenly allowed to roam at will after weeks of strict curfews, and rumours of being sent home early, but that had all stopped when Albus had announced the defeat of the monster and the rescue of Ginny Weasley at a special lunchtime feast. The festivities had gone on long into the afternoon and evening. The elves had left the tables in the great hall stocked with food all day and students had come and gone as they wished. A number of professors had organised impromptu games and activities both inside and outside. Some holding some educational value, most just being plain good fun. She herself had stood on the sidelines and cheered on her Gryffindors as they competed in a number of games and challenges Madame Hooch had managed to set up on the practice fields.
It had been lovely to see the children relaxed, happy and carefree. And then later, as they all exhaustedly traipsed off to bed, she’d done her rounds making sure to look in on all of them. Strangely the only three who seemed somewhat subdued had been Potter, Weasley and Granger. In fact as far as she knew the three of them had not joined in any of the festivities and were the first to retire to their beds.
Although she supposed it wasn’t that strange. They had to be exhausted. Merlin knew she was.
Hopefully she would have no need to disturb them. Although given the errand on which she had been sent (having been interrupted in the middle of a well earned soak in her private tub) she held little hope. The Heir of Slytherin and his monster after all, had not been the only threat Hogwarts had been facing these last months.
Stepping up to the counter, she caught the attention of the receptionist who was in the middle of trying to wrestle something out of the grip of a rather nasty looking owl.
“Welcome to St Mungo’s, Ow... you little... Sorry... how can I help you?”
“Professor Minerva McGonagall. I understand I am expected.”
“Of course.” The harried woman replied, shaking out her hand which the Owl had just nipped. “Please take a seat, Dr Fizgit will be with you shortly.”
Shortly turned out to be nearly twenty minutes, but eventually a portly woman with a cheerful face, who reminded Minerva quite strongly of Pomona Sprout stepped through a side door. She held a folder under arm. Her smile was genuine if a bit cautious.
“Hello there. I’m Dr Fizgit. I received the Headmaster’s message. I must say this is awfully irregular. Don’t usually give out this kind of information you know. Especially without the patient’s consent, or even knowledge. Not right. Not right at all.” She trailed off with a smile. “But a warrant is a warrant. Can’t argue with the Chief Warlock I suppose.”
So Albus had been throwing his weight around, Minerva mused privately. What the devil was he up to?
“Thank you for your co-operation. I’m sure you understand, Professor Dumbledore would not have asked if it were not entirely necessary.” She reassured, taking the package the woman handed her, hoping for everyone’s sake she was telling the truth.
“Of course.” The woman nodded back. “Mr Pettigrew is just getting dressed, he’ll be here in a minute. Nasty case his. Difficult. He’s had us all wracking our brains. Doesn’t help he won’t really talk about anything. Only so much potions can do you know, not in a case like his.”
Now wasn’t that interesting. Minerva had been given to believe from her conversations with Pettigrew that things were going well. He’d certainly come across as far less rat-like of late. Still crawling, simpering and to use Harry’s phrase ‘creepy’, but not so very much the rodent.
“Pr-Professor. What’s g-going on?” Pettigrew’s familiar voice stammered, and Minerva turned to see him step through the doorway behind the doctor, tugging his jacket in place. His nose twitched.
“We’ll discuss this as soon as we return to the school Peter. Doubtless to say the Headmaster would not have asked that you return so quickly had it not been of the utmost importance.” Minerva reassured, stepping back and gesturing towards the fireplace. Picking up a handful of floo powder she threw it into the flames and spoke too quietly for anyone else to hear. “Praecipuum Officium Custodis Dulcedinem*.” Green flame licked in the grate. She looked back at Peter, “After you.”
Pettigrew grimaced a smile and did as she asked. Nodding her thanks to the doctor, Minerva followed him into the flame.
The heavy wards around the floo into Dumbledore’s office felt like being squeezed through not just a tube but a series of U-bends filled with gravel, and the whole process made her teeth feel furry, but with a final sensation like being shoved, she stumbled out of the fireplace.
And into bedlam.
* Praecipuum Officium Custodis Dulcedinem: The Office of the Principal, Keeper of Sweets (sort of - consider it Wizard Latin because translators are a pain in the bum.)
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