Strange Places (Discontinued)

Four

Harry and his friends were thrilled that Sirius would be coming to Hogwarts. They were also thrilled at the training Lupin and Sirius were providing. Within a few short weeks, Sirius was beginning to lose the haunted look he had and was beginning to look more human. His frame was also filling up, and traces of the man he once was could be seen again. Lupin too was looking healthier than he ever did. His robes were no longer as shabby as they were before. The only downside was the visit from Snape a few days before the full moon when he came to prepare the wolfsbane for Lupin's use.

"It has to be prepared fresh," Sirius told the children. "I don't like old Snivellus being here either, but Moony needs him. Or that potion at least."

"Can't you prepare the potion, yourself?" Hermione asked. They were all sitting in the room Hermione has designated as the library, and she was curled up in a cushy armchair, a large tome open on her lap.

"Nah. I'm all right with basic potions, but Wolfsbane requires the kind of precision and expertise I don't have right now. My skills are a bit rusty after Azkaban and all."

Hermione nodded as she resumed reading. Harry and Ron were practicing spells in a corner that had been charmed so that none of the spells would go anywhere outside of that space. They had a space in the garden that they used normally, but with Snape in the house, it was not possible. Sirius did not want to advertise the fact that they were training Harry and his friends. Harry had enough on his plate already, and Sirius did not want a known Death Eater like Snape knowing he was training to meet Voldemort, even if the meeting was to be in some far distant future. At least, Sirius hoped it would be in some far distant future. Nothing else was acceptable. If Voldemort forced their hand, he would take Harry and escape Britain. There was no way he was letting his Godson face that monster before he was ready.

Sirius' eyes rested on his best friend. Remus looked far better these days, but the interlude was almost over. Moony had duties of his own for the Order. He was to leave soon after the full moon. He had not told the children yet, and he knew they were going to like it as little as he did. Infiltrating the werewolves were not easy, and Moony was the only one they had who could even make the attempt. He thought of all the things they had learned about werewolves during their years at Hogwarts and afterwards. They were a paranoid group, deeply mistrustful of wizards who considered them an abomination to be shunned. It was natural that they gravitated to the fringes of wizarding society. And then there was Greyback.

Fenrir Greyback was a name they had heard whispered. Among werewolves, that name inspired much the same feelings as Voldemort's name did for wizards. And yet, in spite of Moony's daredevil attempts during the last war, they had not been able to find out anything concrete about him. Greyback was a shadow, a rumour and a mystery. That he was part of Voldemort's minions was unquestionable, but he never came out into the open where wizards might find him. Even amongst his own kind, he was a myth, and those who might have known him, kept it very secret indeed. Sirius' face was troubled as he glanced at Remus. Moony was no longer the young man he once was. Losing his friends, who were the biggest support system he had, and the hard years he had spent, flitting from one job to another, shunned and feared by most, had not helped him either. Moony was a man in a limbo. A werewolf who tried to fit into the wizarding community, and was not accepted by them. It was doubtful if the werewolves were going to accept him into their midst with open arms either. Sirius could only hope that Moony's intelligence would keep him out of trouble. And perhaps, this time, he might be able to burst the bubble of mystique around Greyback. This time, Greyback had been more active if the reports the Order received were to be believed. Perhaps, he felt safe enough to come out into the open this time. Voldemort's return from what everyone perceived to be his death had shaken the wizarding world to the core while giving a boost of confidence to the supporters of the Dark.

"Sirius?" Hermione's quiet voice broke into his thoughts. "Do you think Harry has a chance?" Her voice was low, and he sat down on an armchair next to her. He looked at her. She looked worried, and what she said... it was a concern she would never raise to her friends, or to anybody other than him, because he was the closest thing Harry had to a parent, and if anyone would understand her worry, it was him. The Sirius of a few months back would have answered "Yes." even if he did not believe it. The Sirius before Azkaban would have had no hesitation in saying "Yes." because he believed it. But he was neither of those people now. Dying had changed him, though even he was only now beginning to appreciate how much. It felt like growing up, and he was not certain how much he liked it.

"I don't know, Hermione," he said, his voice equally low. "But Harry has already escaped Voldemort four times now. Five, if you count the time he was a baby. And now, we are training him to face him. And we're all going to be there for him too." It was not an answer, but she seemed reassured.

"I'm still curious about what Professor Dumbledore might be teaching Harry." she said. "Have you any idea?"

He shook his head. "I'll know if I'm meant to know. But I daresay Harry won't keep it a secret from his best friends."

"You're different," she said a bit cautiously. "You've been behaving towards Harry like a parent."

Sirius felt a pang at her words. "I was a bad godfather, wasn't I?"

"No," she shook her head. "Irresponsible, yes, but not bad. Never that."

"I know what I was," he said, and he rose. "I better see what Snape's upto. And also see if that house elf's making any mischief."

"Sirius-"

"I'm trying," he said. "But it's hard to be nice to a creature that sold you out to the enemy." his voice was harsher than intended and Hermione's face fell.

He went out of the room, and closing the door behind him, leaned on it for a moment, just breathing. He knew he should go back in and apologize, but he didn't want to. Kreacher was not an ordinary house elf. He was as much a Black as his parents or Regulus, and none were exemplary examples of upstanding wizards. Hermione just did not understand, and neither did Dumbledore.