The Marauders - Order of the Phoenix - Part Two

XXXV: January, 1994

Remus was no closer to figuring out where Sirius had gone off to by the time classes started again, just after New Year. There was a thrum of gossip going through the Great Hall at breakfast, though he hadn't yet caught precisely what the topic was during the meal. He only knew that whatever it was, there was a lot of students - mostly Gryffindor and Ravenclaw - that kept glancing over at Harry, who kept his head down and concentrated on his meal.

His first session of classes on Monday was with the seventh year Gryffindors, however, and Remus knew the moment he walked in the room what was going on because several of the boys were gathered 'round Oliver Wood, the Quidditch captain for the Gryffindor team, and they were hotly debating the topic of Harry Potter's confiscated Firebolt.

"I mean it's a damned shame," Wood was saying, shaking his head, "Stripping a Firebolt like that. It should be illegal!"

"He really doesn't know who sent it to him, then?"

"Not a clue. McGonagall reckons it could've been sent to him by Sirius Black."

Remus looked up from the papers he'd been sorting.

"With enemies like that, who needs friends?" joked one of the boys gathered around Oliver's desk.

"McGonagall has every right to be taking that broomstick, it could be cursed!" Percy Weasley said, polishing his glasses. "I think it's a very prudent, wise choice she's made. You lot aren't thinking about anything except that silly Quidditch Cup."

"Silly cup!" Oliver sounded as though he may very well hyperventilate at this. "Silly -- Percy! It's the last chance we have -- I have -- of winning the Cup!"

"Nobody will remember even if you do in a couple of years from now, you'd do better concentrating on your grades and getting into a good training program for next year!"

Remus stepped 'round the desk, deciding it was time to break up the discussion before Oliver Wood leaped over his desk and squashed the narrow Weasley boy with his bare hands. He reckoned by the time Wood was done with Percy Weasley that he would look rather similar in appearance to Harry's Nimbus. "Alright, you lot," Remus announced, "Put away your books, we're having another practical lesson. If you'll hop up and follow along with me, we'll be heading out to the grounds today..."

The seventh years were distracted from the matter of Harry Potter's stripped Firebolt by a lesson on the grounds where Remus paired them off and had them practicing at dueling. While they were practicing, Remus himself was thinking about the Firebolt, though. Was it true, he wondered, that McGonagall thought that Sirius Black may have sent the broomstick to Harry Potter? Had he sent Harry the Firebolt? Was that why he was in the castle on Christmas Day? Had he been delivering the broomstick himself? He reckoned it made sense to check the broomstick - after all, there was a very strong possibility that Sirius was trying to kill Harry, and giving him a faulty broomstick would certainly be one way that could be achieved without gathering further accusations on his own head...

But what if I didn't do it?

Sirius's words still wouldn't leave Remus's mind, no matter how hard he tried at pushing them out. And the words were not all. The taste of Sirius's mouth on his own was still lingering, haunting Remus so that he had woken up nearly every night since Christmas day in a sweat, his mind overtaken by the smell and feel of Sirius in his memory, and the sound of Yesterday echoing somewhere in the back of his mind.

On Tuesday, he had Harry's Defense class, but he had them do a more basic lesson with their textbooks, sitting at the desk himself while they worked through some theoretical situations presented in their textbooks, working out in his own mind where he might have missed checking for Sirius about the castle.