“Don’t move,” she whispered. “Kingsley, I’ll get help.”
“Leaving me here, Nymphadora?” he slurred. “Making a run for it?” His hand grabbed at her robe. “I don’t think so.”
She bent down beside him. “No, I’m not going anywhere, but Remus Lupin knows a little about healing. He can help, at least until we get to St. Mungo’s.”
He nodded, and she saw his eyes haze over. Rapidly, she hammered on Remus’ door. “Come on; be in, be in, be in,” she muttered under her breath. Kingsley groaned, and she could hear his breathing becoming shallower. She thumped the door even harder. “REMUS!”
“Yes,” said a voice above her. She looked up to see Remus walking along the road carrying a bag of groceries. He grinned down at her over the railings, not seeing the figure sprawled on the steps.
“Oh, thank Merlin!” she exclaimed.
Hearing the urgency in her voice, Remus peered down and, spotting Kingsley dropped his bag in his hurry to reach the injured man. “What’s happened?” he asked. “Gods, this is Kingsley Shacklebolt. What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything ... Well, not exactly. He grabbed me as I Apparated. We landed awkwardly on your steps, and he fell forward onto that hideous stone gnome you have there,” she muttered, hating that she sounded defensive. It was her fault. Kingsley wouldn’t be there if she’d been more careful and checked he’d definitely left the building.
She crouched down by Kingsley. His breathing was still laboured, but she could see signs of life in his eyes, and he smiled lopsidedly at her.
“Kingsley,” said Remus clearly. “This is Remus Lupin-”
“I know,” uttered Kingsley softly. “I hitched a ride.” He tried to move, but Remus stopped him.
“Don’t move,” he ordered. “I’ll get you inside my flat and take a look at that head wound.” He turned his head. “Tonks, open up, will you, and clear a space on the sofa. Sorry, Shacklebolt, but I’m not used to guests, and you’ll find my papers all over the place.”
He flashed a look of warning at Tonks, and she hurried in. A sudden lurch in her stomach reminded her that Sirius could well be here - she could have led Kingsley right to him. She ran to the lounge and sighed with relief as she saw no one there. Her eyes flickered to the sofa. There were papers on it, and files, and photographs. Was this what Remus meant? Picking them up, she shoved them underneath the moth-eaten armchair opposite. She turned as she heard the sound of shuffling feet and strode across the room to help Remus with Kingsley. Lowering him onto the sofa, she listened to Remus as he bade her fetch a cold cloth from the bathroom.
“I don’t think anything’s broken,” Remus said to Kingsley, “but I expect you’re going to feel faint from that knock.” He lifted his wand and pointed it at the cut.
Clumsily, Kingsley knocked his hand away. “How can I trust you, Lupin? You were seen with Black.”
“Was I?” Remus replied mildly. He took the wet cloth from Tonks’ shaking hand and began to dab at the cut. “It won’t stop bleeding, unless someone uses a wand. I can do that now, or I can get you to St. Mungo’s, but you must know the longer you leave it, the more blood you’ll lose.” He stared at Kingsley and then sat back. “Or Tonks could do it. Do you trust her?”
Warily, Kingsley switched his scrutiny to Tonks. She sat on the edge of the sofa and pulled out her wand. “I’m not as skilled as Remus, but I’ll have a go “ if you trust me, that is.”
There was a pause, and then Kingsley nodded. She smiled at him and lifted her wand to his temple. Glancing sideways at Remus, who gave her an encouraging smile, she muttered the incantation softly and noted with satisfaction that the cut was becoming less deep and the blood had stopped flowing quite so quickly.
“Very good,” said Remus approvingly. “Can I get you a cup of tea, Kingsley?”
“Tea!” exclaimed Kingsley. He jerked forwards and winced in pain. “Hell! My chest hurts. I think I’ve cracked a rib.”
“Do you want me to Apparate with you to St. Mungo’s?” Tonks asked in concern
“No, I bloody don’t!” Kingsley growled. “I just want to know why you were on your way to see Lupin when you should have been writing up witness reports for me.” He stared at Remus. “You were seen with Black, you know. I have a reliable witness.”
Tonks snorted. ‘Stan Shunpike is not reliable,’ she wanted to say, but a look from Kingsley quelled her.
Remus stood up. “I’ll make that tea,” he said and stepped into his small kitchen. “Sugar? Milk?”
Kingsley scowled, but the effort involved in moving his facial muscles obviously still hurt, and he winced again. Tonks moved a cushion behind his back and started to stand up. Kingsley pulled her back. “You’re not going anywhere. I don’t want you two to have the chance to concoct some story. I want the truth.”
Tonks stared into his fierce, dark brown eyes. She glanced across at Remus, but he was busy searching in his cupboards for tea, mugs and what looked like biscuits. “Oh, you caught me,” Tonks said, sighing. “I was bored and wanted to skive off. I’m bloody sick of cataloguing those wands, and so I thought I’d come and see Remus.” She paused and didn’t have to morph the blush on her face. “He’s ... er ... more than a friend.”
Kingsley narrowed his eyes and looked from her to Remus. “Please, Tonks. Give me some credit.”
She felt a hand on her shoulder, and then a finger giving her cheek a soft caress. “Are you in trouble because of me?” Remus asked, and looked directly at Kingsley. His question, asked in such soft tones, rippled with suggestion.
“I hope not,” she muttered, more to Kingsley than to Remus. She breathed in slowly, feeling her heart slow slightly, as she realised with relief that Remus had picked up on her story.
Remus placed the tea tray down and began to pour three cups of tea. Kingsley lay back against the cushion and studied them both. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you to come over, Dora.”
She hid her surprise at the use of her pet name that suggested a certain intimacy. Aware that Kingsley was staring at her, she kept her eyes firmly on her teacup.
“You should have told me you were busy,” Remus continued calmly. “Sugar, Kingsley?”
“Answers, Lupin. That’s all I want,” Kingsley said mercilessly. He leant forwards, clutching the side where his rib was cracked, but the pain did not deter him. “I’m not fooled by this charade. You were seen with Black at a building site in London.”
Remus picked up his cup and leant back in his chair. “I was seen, was I?” He sounded amused, as if Kingsley were a particularly endearing child.”
“Someone answering your description,” muttered Tonks.
Kingsley glared at her. “I haven’t quite worked out where you fit into this yet, Tonks, but the coincidence of you or Lupin being on the spot whenever there’s trouble concerning Black has not escaped me.” He paused. “I know it’s his wand missing, you know.”
“I haven’t finished cataloguing yet-” she began, stopping when Kingsley raised his hand.
“Don’t take me for a fool, Nymphadora. Your father will tell you that I’m not easily taken in.”
Her head jerked towards him. “You know my dad?”
“Mmm, I was at school with him ... and your mother.” He stopped and smiled softly at her, then lifted his hand and ruffled her hair. “I met you once before, you know, at your christening.”
As Tonks stared at Kingsley, she became aware that Remus was no longer looking quite so relaxed. He had edged further forward on his chair as if about to spring.
“My christening?” she asked curiously, desperate to keep Kingsley occupied.
“Mmm,” Kingsley agreed. “And whilst there I met a thirteen year old boy and his friend, who’d managed to wangle a day off from school. Your cousin and James Potter were engaging scamps “ even at that age.” He chuckled and, at that moment, produced his wand, aiming it directly at her head. “Don’t try anything, Lupin, or she’ll be hurt.”
In horror, Tonks saw Remus with his wand drawn and aimed directly at Kingsley’s chest.
“I mean it,” Kingsley murmured. “I’m an Auror, Lupin. That’s where my duty lies. If you two are in cahoots, then I have no choice but to bring you in.”
Remus held his gaze.
“Could you really kill, Remus?” hissed Kingsley.
“Yes,” Remus replied softly. “I’ve killed before.”
Kingsley smiled lopsidedly. “But I doubt you’d let yourself be responsible for someone else’s death, would you?”
There was an infinitesimal silence as both men looked each other in the eye, desperate for an advantage. Tonks tried to locate her wand, realising in horror that she’d stowed it in the side pocket of her robes “ the side that was nearest Kingsley. She would not be able to reach it without his noticing.
“Go!” she mouthed to Remus.
He shook his head.
“He won’t hurt me,” she murmured.
“You’re sure about that, are you, Tonks?” Kingsley’s voice was soft but clear.
“Remus, just go!” she screamed.
But he refused to leave. Instead, he lowered his wand and sat back down. “Let her go, Kingsley. She’s completely innocent in all of this.” He held out his hands, fists together. “If you need to bind me, then go ahead. I can’t tell you anything, though.”
“You don’t seem to care that aiding Black means a sentence in Azkaban with the Dementors,” Kingsley remarked. He hadn’t let go of Tonks, still had his wand pointed at her.
“I have the horrors of my life visiting me with monotonous regularity,” Remus replied ironically. “Let her go, now.”
Kingsley released her, but as he did so, his hand swooped under her robe and captured her wand. Clutching two wands in one hand, he picked up his tea and resumed drinking it. “Drink up,” he said “It’s getting cold.”
“Uh ... Kingsley, what’s going on?” Tonks asked. She glanced at Remus, wondering if this was all an elaborate joke, but he seemed as bemused as she was.
“You’re right, Tonks. Shunpike is a very unreliable witness. I doubt his evidence could be taken seriously. However ...” He paused. “However, Scrimgeour might find him credible. You were unwise to meet Black there, Remus.”
“Why aren’t you arresting me?” Remus asked quietly. He sat again, his eyes never leaving Kingsley’s face.
“I told you I’d met you before, Tonks. It was also the first time I met Sirius ... but not the last.” He winked at Remus. “Those two boys weren’t at all interested in a christening, but did enjoy the day off school. At the age of twenty-one, I wasn’t that interested in babies either. You were unusual, Nymphadora, but you were still a baby.” He laughed at her glare and then handed her back her wand. “I overheard the pair of them talking about a friend of theirs ... a dorm mate who was ...” He trailed off.
“A werewolf,” Remus supplied. Then his eyes lit up. “It was you!”
“Me?” asked Kingsley, but his eyes were glinting with amusement.
“Er ... him, what?” put in Tonks. “Would one of you tell me what’s going on?”
Remus turned to her. “It was the beginning of our third year when they went to your christening. Sirius had been allowed to attend; James went along for the ride.” He chuckled. “It happened a lot with that pair. Merlin, I won’t forget that wedding of Lily’s sis--” Tonks coughed and he straightened his face, putting a stop to his reminiscences. “Anyway, they’d recently found out I was a werewolf and were set on inventing something that would ‘cure’ me. They blew up a cauldron or two in our dormitory ... we had a lot of trouble explaining that to McGonagall... Sorry, where was I?”
“I’ll continue, shall I?” Kingsley said, raising his eyebrows.
“Yes, do!” said Tonks impatiently.
“I talked to the boys, and they asked me about werewolves. For all their bravado, Remus, I think they were rather scared, but determined not to desert you. So, I sat with them, and started to tell them all I knew. I’d travelled a bit by then and knew more than was in the standard textbooks.”
“What did you tell them?” Tonks asked.
“I imparted one very useful bit of information. Of course, I thought I was telling them this for their own safety. I had no idea ...” He smiled ruefully. “... but even if I’d known, I’m not sure I would have kept silent.”
“He told them,” interrupted Remus, “that a werewolf won’t attack other animals. I think that’s when the idea began to germinate. You know, I presume, about Sirius ...” He glanced at Tonks. “It’s all right, she knows everything.”
Kingsley nodded. “I didn’t, for a long time, know anything about the four of you. When Sirius was imprisoned, I was abroad and although I had trouble believing that thirteen-year-old boy would betray his best friend, I pushed it to the back of my mind. But ...” He sighed. “When he escaped, and then when his wand disappeared, I started to think more about him. He’d written to me, saying it would be ‘cool’ to have a pen pal abroad, but he always commented on his werewolf friend, and then started asking about Animagi. He said it was for an essay, but he wondered if a werewolf would attack one.”
“And you told him they wouldn’t,” Tonks said and started laughing.
“Actually, I told him I had absolutely no idea, but the theory was interesting.” Kingsley frowned. “I was never reckless, Tonks, you should know that, and encouraging a schoolboy in that sort of enterprise would be dangerous and foolhardy to say the least.
“Anyway, fast forward another twenty years, and Black’s wand is gone. Now my suspicions are bristling. I suspect his cousin’s daughter might be involved, although I really don’t want that to be the case because despite the fact that she can be a pain in the backside and never finishes her paperwork -” Tonks glowered at him. “She is a bloody good Auror and a friend ... I hope. I wondered again about Sirius Black, and in the end I took my suspicions to a higher authority.”
“Scrimgeour?” Tonks asked in alarm.
“Dumbledore,” amended Kingsley with a grin. “I went to see him after the break in. Told him about my Animagus theory, and he told me the rest.”
“So you know he’s innocent, yet you still came here and scared the hell out of me!” yelled Tonks. She picked up a cushion and tried to batter him with it.
“I wanted to scare you!” Kingsley said, laughing as he warded off the blows. He pulled the cushion out of her hands and became more serious. “You were too indiscreet, Tonks. Anyone could have seen you. And what if it had been Scrimgeour “ or even Proudfoot “ who was waiting for you? Anyway, don’t you think I’ve paid for it? A gash to my head and what feels like a broken rib. Remind me not to Side-Along-Apparate with you again.”
“What happens now?” Remus asked. “I take it other people know about Shunpike.”
Kingsley nodded. He finished the rest of his tea, and slowly replaced the cup onto the table. “Shunpike’s description of Sirius was accurate, even down to the robes, and he said he’d had a shave. You, he didn’t see very clearly, but ... well, Remus “”
“I’m not popular at the Ministry,” Remus finished. “There will always be that lurking suspicion, I’m afraid.” He tilted his head towards Tonks; she didn’t miss the gesture.
“What was that for?” she demanded.
“Tonks, what Remus is trying to say is that you’ll be tainted by association. It’s probably best you don’t get involved anymore.”
She stood up, suddenly angry with the pair of them at this fresh conspiracy. “I am involved. You can’t suddenly stop me from doing things. I won’t stand by and let Sirius get captured again.” She faced Remus. “Tell me where he is. I want to see him “ NOW!”
“I can’t,” he replied simply. “I don’t know where he is. Sirius was going to send me a message, but I haven’t heard from him.”
In the corner of an old ramshackle barn, Sirius Black sat on a damp hay bale, examining his wand. It felt good to be reunited with it. He could feel his arm tingle when he held it and power surge through him when he cast a spell. He’d never believed Ollivander’s story that the wand chooses the wizard. He’d used James’ wand many a time, sometimes by accident, often in jest, and hadn’t noticed that the magic had weakened. But now ... He thrust his hand out again and delighted in the light dancing in front of him. He had to admit that perhaps the old wandmaker was right. This was his wand; to use another was almost a blasphemy.
It was evening now, and he’d promised Remus he’d meet him again. He should send a message, but something held him back. Remus had kept harping on about that girl, and if Tonks were half as persistent as his memory of her suggested, she wouldn’t be content to stay behind. He didn’t want to see her “ not like this. He told himself he was too ashamed of his wretched state, but in reality, he wasn’t sure he could bear the memories that would flood his mind if he saw her again. She was a link, he thought, to one of his perfect days. A day spent in the company of his friends, when they’d all been happy, when Peter had still been a Marauder. He closed his eyes, trying again to remember the details of that afternoon, but it was a blur, hazy in his mind after thirteen years of mind-altering hell.
She hadn’t liked Peter.
Merlin, where did that come from? He furrowed his brow, desperately trying to dredge the depths of his mind. But the wisp of a thought disappeared again.
Perhaps he could see her. Maybe he needed to see her, so he could fully adjust and make peace with his past.
Grinning, he lifted his wand. He would see her. He laughed out loud.
“Expecto Patronum!”
Nothing happened.
Taken aback, Sirius stared at the wand in his hand, and then at the empty space before him. He knew the spell, and knew how to attach the message before he sent it to Remus, but his Patronus hadn’t appeared.
He determinedly thought of Harry. Harry and Hermione when they flew past Flitwick’s window. That incredible boy “ so like Prongs “ and that girl with her sharp brains. Fixing them in his mind, he tried again.
“Expecto Patronum!”
A sliver of silver emerged, barely enough to last a second. He watched it dissolve in the air. And then he realised; he had no happy memories. There was nothing inside to guard against the depression that dogged him. Black dog! He laughed ironically. His Patronus, his Animagus form “ a huge dark portent of doom. No wonder he’d scared Harry in Magnolia Crescent.
How the hell will I get hold of Moony now? he thought. A sound from the corner “ Buckbeak pawing the ground “ caused him to frown. “Yes, all right. I’m hungry, too, but it’s difficult. I can’t just Apparate to Diagon Alley, you stupid bird.”
Buckbeak clacked his beak disapprovingly, and Sirius grinned slightly. He wasn’t sure what the Hippogriff was most annoyed about “ being called stupid, or being called a bird. “I’ll find you something soon,” he soothed. “It’s just a shame I can’t send you out to hunt.”
Appeased, Buckbeak sank to the floor and began to preen his wings. Sirius watched as he tugged at the feathers. Walking over, he picked one up and twirled it between his fingers.
“I need an owl, don’t I?” he muttered. “That’s the only way I can get a message sent.”
Buckbeak stopped preening and stared at Sirius. Giving him a look etched with irony, the Hippogriff tossed his head upwards. Following the movement, Sirius looked into the roof of the barn. Sitting on a beam was a small owl who was watching them both beadily.
“Oh!” Sirius exclaimed softly. He frowned as he took a closer look. It was a very small owl, possibly a scops, and no good for long distance messages, but ... Remembering something Peter had once told him about owls, he reached out his hand to it and softly clucked his tongue. The bird flew down from the beam and hovered in the air before landing on his arm. “Hmm, are you strong enough to fly to London?” Sirius mused. The owl hooted eagerly. Sirius smiled at it. “That’s good.”
He sat on the hay bale, pulled out a sheet of parchment from his robe pocket and began to write to Remus. “You need to take this,” he said when he’d finished, “to Remus Lupin in London. He can bring you a reply-”
He stopped suddenly. Remus would not be able to send a reply. In all probability, any owl he sent out would be tracked by the Ministry, now that his werewolf status was known to all. This owl would be able to deliver the message, but could not return. He tore up the message and started to write another.
‘Moony, it’s time for me to leave. Don’t try to contact me. I’ll be in touch when I can. Good luck finding the rat.
Padfoot.’
He folded it up and attached it to the owl’s leg. “Wait!” he called as it started to flap its wings. “I need to you take another message. And don’t come back, okay.” The bird looked crestfallen at the loss of its fleeting career. “Don’t worry; I’ll find you a new owner.”
He wrote swiftly now that his mind was made up. Soon he would venture out into the town. Maybe surprise a courting couple, or some revellers enjoying a beer, and then once he was sure he’d been recognised, he’d Apparate back to the barn and fly off with Buckbeak.
Dear Harry, he wrote... He smiled as he thought of a boy who would dare all for his friends.
“Merlin, Prongs, you would be so proud of him,” Sirius muttered as he signed the letter. Attaching it to the owl’s leg, he carried him out of the barn and released him. The bird pirouetted in the air, hooting as it twirled.
“Don’t show off!” Sirius ordered, and laughed as the bird suddenly started to fly faster towards its destination. The night was clear, and he could see stars twinkling above him, shining brightly like the lights in Lily’s eyes.
“I’ll clear my name, Lily,” he vowed. “And when I do, I’ll take care of your son. He won’t lose me as well.”