Chapter 7

 

***

 

It was uncomfortable sitting next to Sirius, what with Tonks eyeing the pair of them suspiciously. Guilt flooded through him as she glanced from him to Sirius and back again while Molly poured out the tea. Was it really that obvious that something had happened between them?

 

“Are you sure you were able to go through all of the books at Hogwarts?” Molly asked, her tone indicating that she didn’t share Remus’s confidence in the matter.

 

“Yes. I set up a Tracing Charm. It took a couple of hours to complete, but I’m certain it covered all the written material in the school.”

 

“Maybe Arthur’s having better luck at the Ministry. He should be home soon.”

 

“If the spell took so long to complete, what did you do to pass the time,” Tonks asked.

 

“We, er, looked in other rooms—the staffroom, a few of the classrooms—to make sure the charm wasn’t working in just the one place,” Remus said, fighting the urge to kick Sirius for smirking at Tonks all the way through his improvisation. At least Molly didn’t seem to have picked up on the unspoken implications in Tonks’s question.

 

A clatter from the kitchen and the sound of voices told them that Hermione and Ron had Floo’d home from work.

 

“But, Hermione, why did you have to use indelible ink?” Ron whined loudly in the other room. “It’s bad enough that you check through my work—it’s just like being back at school—but I had to re-write the whole report.”

 

“You wouldn’t have wanted to hand in substandard work.”

 

“I don’t care.”

 

Remus could tell from the dejected tone in Ron’s voice that he meant what he said, even though Hermione saw fit to dismiss it him with a hasty: "Don't be silly, Ronald. Of course you do."

 

“Well, I think it’s a good thing that someone is keeping an eye on you,” Molly called out to her son. “Come in here and sit down. I’ve just made a pot of tea.”

 

“What’s happened to his scar?” Ron asked as he joined them in the living room. “It doesn’t look right.”

 

It had started to fade. Remus could not think of a plausible reason for this happening, but it did not bode well.

 

“We need to come up with ideas, just in case Arthur hasn’t been able to locate the book,” he said. “If the scar is starting to vanish, then it probably means we’re running out of time: Sirius could end up being stuck here permanently.”

 

“What scar?” Sirius asked. “What’s so important about a scar?”

 

Remus looked at him blankly, knowing that this was something else which he could not tell Sirius.

 

“We could try asking in Flourish and Blotts,” Molly said, breaking the awkward silence and bypassing Sirius’s questions. “And there’s a library just off Diagon Alley.”

 

By the time Arthur came home, they had thought of several places where they could search, but he soon put a dampener on their newly-found enthusiasm.

 

“According to Ministry records, there was only one copy in existence. That was last known to be Hogwarts’ library, but had disappeared in the nineteen-seventies.”

 

"So we have no choice but to go back to Grimmauld Place," Remus said.

 

Arthur frowned, running a hand across his brow, and asked, "Remus, do you think it would be better for one of us to try to sneak in, or for a few of us, just in case there's trouble?"

 

"Before we do anything, we should watch the building for a while to see if there's any activity," Remus said. "When we do go in for the book, all we have to do is make it out of the front door, then we can Apparate a..." he trailed off at the sight of Arthur shaking his head.

 

"We can’t do that: they've pushed through a load of Apparition restrictions today. The announcement was made on the Wizarding Wireless News this afternoon."

 

"Restrictions?"

 

"It's supposed to be for our protection," Arthur said dryly.

 

"I bet I can guess who pushed that through," Tonks said. She didn’t need to mention the words ‘Death Eater’s at the Ministry’—that much was obvious.

 

"I could help," Sirius said, and Remus turned to look at him, wondering what he was thinking. "I could get away from the house without them being able to follow me."

 

"Don't be silly, Sirius. We can't risk you going there."

 

"But I can change into Padfoot. This might be a different body, but I still know how to transfigure myself."

 

Without waiting for anyone else to speak, Sirius got up from the sofa, and although the transformation was a little jerky at first, there was soon a mass of black fur bounding around the room and barking loudly.

 

"It's no good, Sirius," Arthur explained in a raised voice, trying to get Sirius to hear what he was saying. But it took a few more shouts before Sirius calmed down enough to sit at Remus's feet. Remus instinctively reached down, threading his fingers through the familiar, wiry coat. "You'll be recognised."

 

"But, Arthur, dear," Molly intervened. "How can he be recognised when he's...you know."

 

"Not everyone is willing to believe it, Molly, and it's not as if the Ministry has made an official announcement. So it's possible that there are some who haven't found out. Besides, it's still too risky, especially sending him in by himself."

 

As the discussion continued around him, Remus let his attention drift to the smelly dog on the floor and the warm fur underneath his hands. At that moment, he didn’t care for thinking anymore about strategies and plans; all he wanted was for Sirius to still be there when the full moon came.

 

**

 

Harry was rudely awoken by banging and swearing, and it took a few seconds before he realised it was still Sunday and that James and Peter wanted to enter the dormitory. Half asleep, he prised himself from Remus’s warm bed and unlocked the door.

 

"'Bout bloody time," James said. "We've been knocking on that door for ages."

 

"How'd the detention go?"

 

"It's eleven o'clock, at night, Sirius. How do you think it went?" James replied dryly as he and Peter readied themselves for bed. "It's all right for you, getting in an early night. But we all need our beauty sleep for tomorrow."

 

"I'm sure she knows, James," Peter said in a paranoid whisper. He was already in bed at that point and looking ready to follow Remus's lead in a blissful slumber. "That's why she made us do it this evening."

 

"Don't be stupid, Wormtail. No one knows—no thanks to Sirius," James said.

 

"What doesn't she know?” Harry asked. “What's happening tomorrow?"

 

James gave him a withered look. "Not going to waste my breath. Go back to bed, Padfoot."

 

And then Harry knew. How could he have been so oblivious to the full moon and all of its implications? Ignoring James's advice, Harry went straight to the bathroom. He didn't see how it could possibly work, but he had to become Padfoot.

 

As soon as the bathroom door closed behind him, Harry squeezed his eyes shut and tried to concentrate, tried to imagine himself turning into that boisterous, lolloping dog. But he didn't have a clue how to attempt it: he didn't know the first thing about Animagus transfiguration. It was futile. If only he had spent more time with his godfather, shown more interest, then maybe.... But who was he kidding? It had taken Sirius years to master the transformation.

 

Defeated, he wandered back to the dormitory where three bodies were wrapped in blankets, one of whom was snoring loudly.

 

"Look what you've done to him. He’s completely worn out." It was James's voice that spoke, and an arm appeared from the covers, waving vaguely in Remus's direction. "Turn him over, or give him a poke or something so the rest of us can get some sleep."

 

Harry turned and couldn't help but smile at the sight of Remus sleeping. The smile was bittersweet, though, as Harry knew he would be letting Remus down the following evening.

 

 

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