Secrets- A Severus Snape Story

Chapter 5- The Great Tale Of Sirius Black (Part 2) And the 'death' of Scabbers

A long silence followed Hagrid's story. Then Madam Rosmerta said with some satisfaction, "But he didn't manage to disappear, did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!"

"Alas if only we had," said Fudge bitterly. "It was not us who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew - another of the Potters' friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Potters' Secret Keeper, he went after Black himself."

"Pettigrew ... that fat little boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?" Said Madam Rosmerta.

"Hero-worshipped Black and Potter, and had a very obvious crush on Miss Evans," said Professor McGonagall. "Never quite in their league talent-wise. I was often rather sharpe with him. You can imagine how I - how I regret that now..." she sounded as though she had a sudden head cold.

"There, now Minerva," said Fudge Kindly, "Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eye-witnesses - Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later - told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing ' Lilly, James and Aurora, Sirius? How could you!' And then he went for his wand. Well of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens..."

Professor McGonagall blew her nose and said thickly, "Stupid boy ... foolish by ... he was alway hopeless at duelling ... should have left it to the Ministry..."

"I tell yeh, if I'd have got tee Black before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn't've messed around with wands - I'd've ripped him limb - from limb." Hagrid growled.

" You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid," said Fudge sharply " Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after Black murdered all those people. I - I will never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere, Muggles screaming. And Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him ... a heap of blood-stained robes and a few - a few fragments-." He sighed, "Snape had arrived at the scene not even five minutes after I did, you know? Poor man, we had to restrain him from trying to get to Black himself. The bloke was heartbroken, him and Aurora were to be married that winter, you know? Had a - had a date and everything, but Black took that all away from him. Have you ever wondered why he's so - er - closed off all the time? The woman he loved taken away from him by one of her own best friends, someone she trusted, it's obvious Severus's going to be angry." Fudge's voice stopped abruptly. There was a sound of five noses being blown.

"Well there you have it Rosmerta," said Fudge thickly "Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol and Pettigrew recived the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Blacks been in Azkaban ever since."

"Is it true he's mad, Minister?"

"I wish I could say he was," said Fudge slowly. "I certainly believe his masters defeat unhinged him for a while. The murder of Pettigrew and all this Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man - cruel ... pointless. Yet I met Black on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know most of the prisoners sit muttering to themselves muttering in the dark, there's no sense in them... but I was quite shocked as how normal Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought that he was merely bored - asked me if I'd finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword. Yes I was astounded at how little the effect the Dementors seemed to be having on him - and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know? Dementors outside this door, day and night ,"

"But what do you think he's broken out to do? Said Madam Rosmerta. "Good gracious, Minister, he isn't trying to rejoin You-Know-Who, is he?"

"I daresay that is his -er- eventful plan," said Fudge evasively. "But we hope to catch Black long before that . I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing... but give him back his most devoted servant and I shudder to think how quickly he'll rise again ..."

There was a small chink of glass on wood, someone had set down their glass.

"You know, Cornelius, if you're dining with the headmaster, we'd bettered back up to the castle," said Professor McGonagall.

One by one, the pairs of feet in front of Harry took the weight of their owners once more; hems of cloaks swung into sight and Madam Rosmerta's glittering heels disappeared behind the bar. The door of the Three Broomsticks opened again, there was another flurry of snow, and the teachers disappeared.

"Harry?"

Ron and Hermione's faces appeared under the table. They were both staring at him, lost for words.

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Once Harry, in his dazed state made it back to Honeydukes and through the tunnel and back to Hogwarts he sneaked from the common room that had Fred and George setting of a-dozen Dungbombs and into his dormitory. He sat down on his bed, drew the hangings around him, and started turning the pages of his leather-bound photo album Hagrid had given him two years ago. 

There was his father waving up at him, beaming, the untidy black hair Harry had inherited standing up in all directions. There was his mother, alight with happiness, arm in arm with his Dad. And there that must be him. His best man ... Harry had never given him a thought before.

If he hadn't known it was the same person, he would never have guessed it was Black in this old photograph. His face wasn't sunken and waxy, but handsome and full of laughter, his arm was slung over a blonde petite woman who had familiar blue eyes, Harry had guessed this must have been his aunt. The fact they looked so comfortable and happy in this photo made Harry angry, had he already been working for Voldermort when this picture had been taken? Was he already planning the deaths of the three people stood next to him? Did he realise he was facing twelve years in Azkaban, twelve years that would make him unrecognisable?

Harry slammed the album shut, reached over and stuffed it back into his cabinet, took off his robes and glasses and got into bed, making sure the hangings were hiding him from view.

The dormitory door opened.

"Harry?" said Ron's voice uncertaintly.

But Harry lay still, pretending to be asleep. He heard Ron leave again, and rolled over on his back, his eyes wide open. A hatred such as he had never known before was coursing through Harry like poison.

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On Christmas morning Harry was gifted a mysterious Firebolt broomstick and both him and Ron were beaming with excitement, but Hermione being very cautious of the broomstick reported it to Professor McGonagall and the Fireboat was taken away to be tested to see whether it contained any jinxes that could potentially harm Harry. To say the two boys were angry with Hermione was understatement, Ron even made his duty to avoid the poor girl. But once the slender broomstick had been through testing the boys had finally come to their senses and had nearly forgiven Hermione when...

A strangled yell echoed down the boys' staircase. The whole common room fell silent, staring, petrified, at the entrance. There came hurried footsteps, growing louder and louder - and then, Ron came leaping into view dragging with him a bedsheets.

"LOOK!" he bellowed, striding over to Hermione's table. "LOOK!" he yelled, shaking the sheets in her face.

"Ron, what - ?"

"SCABBERS! LOOK! SCABBERS!"

"BLOOD!" Ron yelled into the stunned silence. "HE'S GONE! AND YOU KNOW WHAT WAS ON THE FLOOR?"

"N-no," said Hermione, in a trembling voice.

Ron threw something down onto Hermione's Rune translation. Hermione and Harry leant forward. Lying on top of the weird spiky shapes were several long ginger cat hairs.