𓏲 . THE BOY WHO LIVED . .៹♡
                                                          CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
                            ─── THE MARAUDERS MAP & HOGSMEADE

Madame Pomfrey insisted on keeping Harry in the hospital wing for the rest of the weekend, much to the boy's disapproval. The only time Charlus, Alistair, Ron, and Hermione would leave Harry's side would be at night when curfew dawned upon then.

Harry was itching to talk to Charlus and Alistair about the Grims he had seen during the Quidditch match, but failed to be able to since he never wanted to bring it up in front of Ron or Hermione. Simply because he knew Ron would panic and Hermione would say it was rubbish.

The fact remained, however, that they had now appeared twice, and both appearances had been followed by near-fatal accidents; the first time, he had nearly been run over by the Knight Bus; the second, fallen fifty feet from his broomstick. Was the Grims going to haunt him until he actually died? Was he going to spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder for the beasts?

And then there were the Dementors. They sent a shiver down Charlus's spine at the mere thought of them. Everyone said the dementors were horrible, but no one else collapsed every time they went near one. No one else heard echoes in their head of their dying parents

For Charlus knew who that screaming voice belonged to now. Harry had told him that was the last moments of their mother's life. The moments in which she saved them from Lord Voldemort as he did nothing but laugh as he murdered her.

Imagine the relief to return, with Harry, Ron,Alistair and Hermione, to the noise and bustle of the main school on Monday, where he was forced to think about other things, even if he had to endure Draco Malfoy's taunting towards his brother about Gryffindor losing the match.

It didn't matter, however, because, on a happier note, Professor Lupin was back at work. It certainly looked as though he had been ill. His old robes were hanging more loosely on him and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes; nevertheless, he smiled at the class before teaching as though he never left. As he dismissed his class, he held Charlus and Harry back.

"I heard about the match," Lupin began to say, "and I'm sorry about your broomstick, Harry. Is there any chance of fixing it?"

"No," Harry said as he shook his head sadly. He hesitated, and then the question he had to ask burst from him before he could stop himself. "Professor, why do the dementors affect us so? I mean, more than everyone else?"

"Listen," Lupin said kindly, "Dementors are the foulest creatures to walk this earth. They feed on every good feeling. Every happy memory...until a person is left with absolutely nothing but his worst experiences. You are not weak, Charlus, Harry. Dementors affect you two most because there are true horrors in your past. Horrors your classmates can scarcely imagine. Neither of you have anything to be ashamed of."

"I'm scared, Professor," Charlus admitted hesitantly, his throat tight. Lupin gave the boy a gentle smile. "I'd consider you a fool if you weren't."

There was a moment's silence, then Harry said suddenly, " We need to know how to fight them. Maybe you could teach us." "You made that Dementor on the train go away." Charlus pointed out in agreement.

"There was only one that night." Professor Lupin reminded the two of them. "But, you still made it go away." Charlus countered.

Lupin looked into Charlus' determined face, hesitated, then said, "I don't pretend to be an expert, Charlus. But as the dementors seem to have developed an interest in you two, perhaps I should teach you. But after the holidays. For now, I need to rest."

                           ────────⊹⊱🐍⊰⊹────────

With the promise of Anti-Dementor lessons from Lupin,  and the thought that he might never have to hear his mother's death again, Charlus' mood took a definite upturn. As for Quidditch, Ravenclaw ended up flattening Hufflepuff in their match at the end of November, which meant Gryffindor were not out of the running for the House Cup after all, although they could not afford to lose another match. Slytherin hadn't been out of the running either.

Marcus Flint worked his team as hard as ever in the chilly haze of rain that persisted into December. Charlus saw no hint of a Dementor within the grounds. Dumbledore's anger seemed to be keeping them at their stations at the entrances.

Two weeks before the end of the term, the sky lightened suddenly to a dazzling, opaline white and the muddy grounds were revealed one morning covered in glittering frost. Inside the castle, there was a buzz of Christmas in the air. Professor Flitwick had already decorated his classroom with shimmering lights that turned out to be real, fluttering fairies.

The students were all happily discussing their plans for the holidays. Both Ron and Hermione had decided to remain at Hogwarts, and though Ron said it was because he couldn't stand two weeks with Percy, and Hermione insisted she needed to use the library, Alistair wasn't fooled; they were doing it to help him keep Charlus and Harry company, and he was very grateful. So were Charlus and Harry, they needed their friends now more than ever.

To everyone's delight except Charlus and Harry's, there was to be another Hogsmade trip on the very last weekend of term.

"We can do all our Christmas shopping there!" Hermione said. "Mum and Dad would really love those Toothflossing Stringmints from Honeydukes!"

Alistair took notice as Charlus and Harry's faces fell slightly, to which he gave them a slight pat on the shoulder, "I'll bring you something back, mates. Anything you want, just let me know."

The boy with glasses seemed to cheer up slightly as a small smile grew on his face.  "You offering to buy me a new broomstick?" he asked. Alistair laughed, "Okay, well maybe not anything."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Charlus chuckled. "Thanks for the offer, mate. But Harry and I should be good on everything. Still got plenty of sweets from the last time you guys brought us back some."

Alistair gave his best friends a reluctant nod.

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On the Saturday morning of the Hogsmeade trip, Charlus and Harry bid goodbye to their three friends, who were wrapped in big coats, hats and scarves, then turned up the marble staircase, and headed back toward Gryffindor Tower. Snow had started to fall outside the windows, and the castle was very still and quiet.

"Psst—Charlus! Harry!"

They turned, halfway along the third-floor corridor, to see Fred and George peering out at them from behind a statue of a humpbacked, one-eyed witch.

"What are you do​ing?" Har​ry asked cu​ri​ous​ly. "How come you're not go​ing to Hogsmeade?" "We've come to give you a bit of fes​tive cheer before we go," Fred said, with a mys​te​ri​ous wink. "Come in here ..."

He nodded toward an empty classroom to the left of the one-eyed statue. Charlus and Harry followed Fred and George inside. George closed the door quietly and then turned, beam​ing, to look at the two of them. "Here's an early Christmas present for you both for being so beautifully behaved." he said.

Charlus merely snorted and rolled his green eyes. Meanwhile, Fred pulled something from inside his cloak with a flour​ish and placed it on the desk in front of them. It was a large, square, very worn piece of parch​ment with noth​ing writ​ten on it. Charlus' eyes widen in excitement. However, Harry stood there, a confused look on his face."What's this rubbish?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"What's this rubbish, he says," Fred said nudged his brother in the ribs. "This, Charlus, Harry, is the se​cret of our suc​cess," George said, pat​ting the parch​ment fond​ly. "It's a wrench, giv​ing it to you both," Fred said, "but we de​cid​ed last night, your guys's need's greater than ours." "I'm truly honoured." Charlus said sarcastically.

"Any​way," George started to say and gave Charlus the look of, I can take it back. He smiled even more at him. "We know it off by heart. We be​queath it to you guys. We don't re​al​ly need it anymore."

"And what do we need with a bit of old parch​ment?" Har​ry said. "A bit of old parchment!" Fred said and closed his eyes with a grimace as though Harry had mortally offended him. "Explain, George."

"Well ... when we were in our first year, Charlus, Harry, – young, care​free and in​no​cent –" Charlus and Harry snorted at the same time. They doubted whether Fred and George had ever been innocent. "– well, more in​no​cent than we are now – we got in​to a spot of both​er with Filch."

"We let off a Dungbomb in the corridor and it upset him for some reason -" "So he hauled us off to his office and started threatening us with the usual -" "- detention -" "- disembowelment -" " - and we couldn't help noticing a drawer in one of his filing cabinets marked Confiscated and Highly Dangerous."

"Don't tell me -" Charlus said and grinned at the Weasley twins. He was getting more and more curious and finally wanted to know what the mysterious parchment was all about.

"Well, what would you've done?" Fred said. "George caused a di​ver​sion by drop​ping an​oth​er Dung​bomb, I whipped the draw​er open and grabbed – this."

"It's not as bad as it sounds, you know," George said. "We don't reckon Filch ever found out how to work it. He probably suspected what it was, though, or he wouldn't have confiscated it."

"And you know how it works?" Charlus asked, excitedly. "Oh yes," Fred replied, smirking proudly. "This little beauty's taught us more than all the teachers in this school."

"You're winding me up," Harry said and looked at the ragged old bit of parchment skeptically, while Charlus had his gaze fixed expectantly on the twins, "I'm at least curious."

"You can be!" George said and grinned. He took out his wand, touched the parchment lightly, and said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

And at once, thin ink lines began to spread like a spider's web from the point that George's wand had touched. They joined each other, they crisscrossed, they fanned into every corner of the parchment; then words began to blossom across the top, great, curly green words, that proclaimed:

Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Shade, Prongs and  Miss Shadow
Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers
are proud to present

 THE MARAUDER'S MAP

It was a map show​ing ev​ery de​tail of the Hog​warts cas​tle and grounds. But the tru​ly re​mark​able
thing was the tiny ink dots mov​ing around it, each labelled with a name in mi​nus​cule writ​ing. Astounded, Charlus looked more closely to it.

 A labeled dot in the top left corner showed that Professor Dumbledore was pacing his study; the caretaker's cat, Mrs. Norris, was prowling the second floor; and Peeves the Poltergeist was currently bouncing around the trophy room.

And as Charlus' eyes traveled up and down the familiar corridors, he noticed something else. This map showed a set of passages he had never entered. And many of them seemed to lead --

"Right into Hogsmeade!" Fred finished his train of thought, which must have been shown on his face. "There are seven in all. Now, Filch knows about these four" - he pointed them out - "but we're sure we're the only ones who know about these. Don't bother with the one behind the mirror on the fourth floor. We used it until last winter, but it's caved in - completely blocked. And we don't reckon anyone's ever used this one, because the Whomping Willow's planted right over the entrance. But this one here, this one leads right into the cellar of Honeydukes. We've used it loads of times. And as you might've noticed, the entrance is right outside this room, through that one-eyed old crone's hump."

"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Shade, Prongs and Shadow," George sighed, pat​ting the head​ing of the map. "We owe them so much." "Noble people, working tirelessly to help a new generation of lawbreakers," Fred said solemnly.

"Right," George said briskly, "don't forget to wipe it af​ter you've used it –" "– or anyone can read it," Fred said warn​ing​ly. "Just tap it again and say, "Mischief managed!" And it'll go blank."

"Now then, young Charlus, young Harry," Fred grinned deferentially, pulling a stern face that made him look frighteningly like Percy, "mind you behave yourselves."

"See you in Honeydukes!" George added with a wink, already seeming to anticipate that Charlus at least, could indeed hardly wait to actually use the card.

The two Weasleys now left them alone, but they were barely out the door before the Slytherin was already rolling up his leave behind and about to head off as well.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked, not moving from the spot himself. Stunned, Charlus stared at him, "Well, what do you think? To Hogsmeade, of course." he returned, turning to his brother at the door one last time, "Are you coming or not?"

The  boy with glasses hesitated for an agonizingly long moment before he seemed to pull himself together after all and followed him into the corridor. To avoid being spotted by a teacher, they both hurriedly scurried behind the statue of the one-eyed witch, "Now what?"

Cluelessly, the light brown-haired boy shrugged his shoulders. In fact he himself had no idea what to do now. Charlus looked at the map and saw that two new ink figures had appeared upon it, labeled 'Charlus Potter' and 'Harry Potter'. The figures were standing exactly where the real Charlus and real Har​ry were stand​ing, about halfway down the third-​floor cor​ri​dor.

Charlus watched care​ful​ly. His lit​tle ink self ap​peared to be tap​ping the witch with his minute wand. ​Charlus quick​ly took out his re​al wand and tapped the statue. Noth​ing happened. He looked back at the map. The tini​est speech bub​ble had ap​peared next to his figure. The word in​side said 'Dis​sendi​um'.

"Dissendium!" Charlus whispered and tapped the stone witch again. At once, the statue's hump opened wide enough.Charlus gave Harry a triumphant smirk before he tucked the map away. He hoisted himself into the hole headfirst, and pushed himself forward.

He slid a considerable way down what felt like a stone slide, then landed on cold, damp earth. A thud told him Harry had slid down behind him. They stood up and looked around. It was pitch black. Harry held up her wand, muttered, "Lumos!" and saw that they were in a very narrow, low, earthy passageway.

Charlus raised the map, tapped it with the tip of his wand, and muttered, "Mischief managed!" The map went blank at once. He folded it carefully, tucked it inside his robes, and they set off.

The passage twisted and turned, more like the burrow of a giant rabbit than anything else. They both hurried along it, stum​bling now and then on the un​even floor, hold​ing their wand out in front of them.It took ages, but Charlus and Harry had the thought of Honeydukes to sustain them. After what felt like an hour, the passage began to rise. Panting, they sped up, their faces hot, their feet very cold. Ten minutes later, they came to the foot of some worn stone steps, which rose out of sight above them.

Careful not to make any noise, Harry began to climb, Charlus following. A hundred steps, two hundred steps, they lost count as they climbed, watching their feet...then, without warning, Harry's head hit something hard.

It seemed to be a trap​door. Har​ry stood there, mas​sag​ing the top of his head. Charlus quickly mumbled, 'are you ok?' and he just grumbled in response. They couldn't hear any sounds above them. Very slowly, Harry pushed the trapdoor open and peered over the edge.

They were in a cellar, which was full of wooden crates and boxes. Harry climbed out of the trapdoor, helped Charlus , and replaced it -- it blended so perfectly with the dusty floor that it was impossible to tell it was there.

They crept slowly toward the wooden staircase that led upstairs. Now they could definitely hear voices, not to mention the tinkle of a bell and the opening and shutting of a door.

Charlus and Harry looked at each other debating on what to do, they suddenly heard a door open much closer at hand; somebody was about to come downstairs. "And get an​oth​er box of Jel​ly Slugs, dear, they've near​ly cleaned us out –" a wom​an's voice said.A pair of feet was coming down the staircase.

Charlus grabbed Harry's arm and leapt behind an enormous crate and waited for the footsteps to pass. They heard a man shifting boxes against the opposite wall. They might not get another chance—

Quickly and silently, they dodged out from their hiding place and climbed the stairs; looking back, Harry saw an enormous backside and shiny bald head, buried in a box. Charlus reached the door at the top of the stairs first, slipped through it, held the door open for Harry, and found themselves behind the counter of Honeydukes—they ducked, crept sideways, and then straightened up before Harry threw the invisibility cloak over them.

The shop was completely crowded with Hogwarts students. It was difficult maneuvering around them, but they made it work without getting the cloak ripped off of them. They looked around and and suppressed a laugh as they imagined the look that would spread over Dudley's piggy face if he could see where Charlus and Harry were now.

There were shelves upon shelves of the most succulent-looking sweets imaginable. Creamy chunks of nougat, shimmering pink squares of coconut ice, fat, honey-colored toffees; hundreds of different kinds of chocolate in neat rows; there was a large barrel of Every Flavor Beans, and another of Fizzing Whizbees, the levitating sherbet balls that Ron had mentioned; along yet another wall were 'Special Effects' - sweets: Droobles Best Blowing Gum (which filled a room with bluebell-colored bubbles that refused to pop for days), the strange, splintery Toothflossing Stringmints, tiny black Pepper Imps ('breathe fire for your friends!'), Ice Mice ('hear your teeth chatter and squeak!'), peppermint creams shaped like toads ('hop realistically in the stomach!'), fragile sugar-spun quills, and exploding bonbons.

They squeezed themselves through a crowd of sixth years and saw a sign hanging in the farthest corner of the shop (UNUSUAL TASTES). Neville was standing underneath it with Seamus, Adrian,Matthew and Dean, eating a blood-flavored lollipop.

On the way out, Harry took the lollipop from him, leaving the boy confused. Charlus giggled quietly as they made their way onto the streets of Hogsmeade. "Where do you think Alistair, Ron and Hermione are?" Harry asked his brother, not worried about being quiet, since there were others talking.

"The Shrieking Shack? Hermione told me she wanted to visit it." Charlus said and shrugged. Harry nodded, "Okay, we'll head there, then."

When they arrived, their three friends were there, but they weren't alone. Draco Malfoy walked towards them, followed by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Well, well, well, look who we have here?" Draco laughed. "You three shopping for your new home? A bit grand for you isn't it, Weasel-bee. Don't your family sleep in, uh... one room? And Black, I didn't picture you as a haunted house type of guy!"

Alistair groaned before he turned to face Draco and his goons, "Would you bugger off?" "Yeah, or for once, shut your mouth." Ron agreed.

Draco tugged a little on his jacket collar and scoffed, "Not very friendly. Boys, I think it's time we taught Weasel-bee and Black, here, how to respect their superiors."

Hermione let out a sarcastic chuckle before she protectively stepped in front of her two friends, "Hope you don't mean yourself." "How dare you talk to me," Malfoy growled as his eyes shifted towards the girl, "You filthy, little mudblood!"

Alistair clenched his fists and was prepared to lunge forward, but as soon as the words left Malfoy's mouth, Charlus angrily threw a snowball at the boy, hitting him on the side of his face.

"What was that?!" Malfoy called out and looked around in confusion when - SPLAT! SPLAT! - he took one more snowball to the face while another hit him in the chest.

Alistair , Hermione, and Ron looked to one another uneasily. What was going on?

As the both Gryffindors and the one Slytherin were the only people Crabbe and Goyle could see, it was them they started towards, but  Charlus pulled down the pants of one of them, revealing his boxers, and then kicked him into the snow-covered ground.  Harry grabbed the other by the scarf, spun him around and kicked him into the snow as well.

At the sight, Draco began to back away fearfully and eyed the surroundings curiously, but couldn't see anything. "Wait! There's something out there!" he yelled to his friends on the ground, "There has to be - aaaaaaaaaahhh!"

In an instant, Charlus grabbed one of Draco's legs and Harry grabbed the other one and together, they dragged him away from his goons and to the chipped-at wooden fence that surrounded the Shrieking Shack.

They dragged him through the gate, with him kicking around furiously and screaming like a little girl. As soon as they let go of him, Malfoy got up and ran back. His both friends quickly raised to their feet and ran after him.

The twins walked over to Alistair, Hermione and Ron , who all stood still and glanced at one another with the utmost confusion. At that moment, Harry pulled on the strings of Ron's winter hat.

Then Charlus played with Hermione's hair. The bushy haired girl laughed as she realized what was going on, "Charlus! Harry!"

The invisibility cloak fell to the ground. Sure enough, Charlus and Harry stood there, grinning from ear to ear. "Bloody hell, guys!" Ron shouted , breathing heavily. "That was not funny!"

But it was, so the ginger smiled. They all did before they began to laugh with one another. "My favorite part was when you pulled Grabbe's pants down and then kicked him from behind." Harry laughed and pointed at his twin brother. "That was the best thing I could have ever done." Charlus replied.

"You did that?" Hermione asked through her fits of laughter and he nodded his head. "You guys are brilliant," Alistair said with a laugh as he high-fived Charlus and Harry.

Honestly, probably the best use of the invisibility cloak.

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The golden five walked through the snow, out of sight from any teachers that could catch Charlus and Harry out of the castle.

"I still don't understand how you got out of the castle." Hermione squealed . "Wow!" Ron said, look​ing very im​pressed. "You two have learned to Ap​pa​rate!"

Alistair rolled his eyes - Ron could honestly be so dumb sometimes.

"'Course we haven't," Harry said. "You can't Apparate at Hogwarts, Ron,"Charlus said in a bored tone. Hermione had told him that like a million times.

Then the twins dropped their voices so that no one around could hear them and told their friends about the Marauder's Map Fred and George Weasley had given them, which showed the entire Hogwarts castle, along with the location of every single student or professor.

"How come Fred and George nev​er gave it to me!" Ron said, out​raged. "I'm their broth​er!" "Probably because they just like Charlus and Harry better." Alistair said with a cheeky grin.

"But they aren't going to keep it!" Hermione said, as though the idea were ludicrous. "They're going to hand it in to either Professor McGonagall or Professor Snape, aren't you?"

"No, we're not!" Harry said quickly. "Are you mad?" Charlus said, gog​gling at Hermione. "Hand in some​thing that good?"

Alistair kept his mouth shut. Harry protested, "If we hand it in, we will have to say where we got it! Filch would know Fred and George had nicked it!"

"But what about Sirius Black and Daniel White-Riddle?" Hermione hissed. "They could be using one of the passages on that map to get into the castle! The teachers have got to know!"

"They can't be get​ting in through a pas​sage," Harry said quick​ly. "There are sev​en se​cret tunnels on the map, right? Fred and George reck​on Filch already knows about four of them. And the oth​er three – one of them's caved in, so no one can get through it. One of them's got the Whomp​ing Wil​low plant​ed over the entrance, so you can't get out of it. And the one we just came through – well – it's re​al​ly hard to see the en​trance to it down in the cel​lar – so un​less they knew it was there –"

Harry hes​itat​ed for a moment. What if Hermione was right, like she always was? What if Black and White-Riddle did know the pas​sage was there?

Hermione went to protest again, but Ron cleared his throat significantly, and pointed to a notice pasted on the outside of the sweetshop door as they passed it.

BY ORDER OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

Customers are reminded that until further notice, Dementors will be patrolling the streets of Hogsmeade every night after sundown. This measure has been put in place for the safety of Hogsmeade residents and will be lifted upon the recapture of Sirius Black and Daniel White-Riddle. It is therefore advisable that you complete your shopping well before nightfall.

Merry Christmas!

"See?" Ron said quietly. "I'd like to see Black and White-Riddle try and come to Hogsmeade with Dementors swarming all over the village. Besides, the Honeydukes owners would hear a break-in, wouldn't they? They live over the shop!"

"Yes, but—but—" Hermione seemed to be struggling to find another problem. "Look, Charlus and Harry shouldn't be coming into Hogsmade. They haven't got a signed form! If anyone finds out, they'll be in so much trouble! And it's not nightfall yet—what if Sirius Black and Daniel White-Riddle turns up today? Now?"

"They'd have a job spotting Charlus and Harry in this," Alistair said and nodded through the mullioned windows at the thick, swirling snow. "Come on, Hermione, it's Christmas. They deserve a break."

"Besides," Charlus said and smirked at her. "What's life without a little risk?" "Safe?" Hermione uttered in disbelief. "Boring," Charlus corrected with a cheeky wink.

Hermione bit her lip, looking extremely worried. "Are you going to report us?" Harry asked mockingly, knowing full well that this would probably be the last thing his best friend would do. "Oh - of course not - but honestly, Harry -"

"Seen the Fizzing Whizzbees, Charlus, Har​ry?" Alistair said, grab​bing them and lead​ing them over to the window of Honeydukes. "And the Jel​ly Slugs? And the Acid Pops? Dad gave me one of those when I was seven – it burnt a hole right through my tongue. I never re​mem​ber Mum looking so angry."  "Reck​on Fred'd take a bit of Cock​roach Cluster if I told him they were peanuts?" Ron said and stared broodingly into the window.

Charlus laughed and shook his head quickly, while Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes. When Alistair and Ron were done showing them every single sweet, the five of them walked through the blizzard once again.

Hogsmeade looked like a Christmas card; the little thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow; there were holly wreaths on the doors and strings of enchanted candles hanging in the trees.

Hermione noticed that  Charlus was shivering. He didn't have his cloak or anything to keep him warm. She unwrapped her scarf from around her neck and handed it to Charlus. He protested at first, but she insisted. "Take it!" she shouted over the wind. "I'll be fine!"

Charlus reluctantly took the scarf but wound it around his neck. They headed up the street, heads bowed against the wind. Alistair and Ron  shouted through their scarves while Hermione  shouted  normally.

"That's the post office -" "Zonko's is up there –" "There's Spintwitches Sporting Needs -" "Tell you what," Alistair said in the middle of the tour, his teeth chattering, "shall we go for a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks?"

His friends were more than willing, so they crossed the road, and in a few minutes were entering the tiny inn.It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm, and smoky.

A curvy sort of woman with a pretty face was serving a bunch of rowdy warlocks up at the bar. "That's Madam Ros​mer​ta," Ron said,going slightly red. "I'll get the drinks, shall I?" 

Charlus, Harry,Alistair and Hermione made their way to the back of the room, where there was a small, vacant table between the window and a handsome Christmas tree, which stood next to the fireplace.

Ron came back five min​utes lat​er, car​ry​ing five foam​ing tankards of hot But​ter​beer. "Merry Christmas!" he said happily, raising his tankard.

The five of them drank deeply. Charlus liked butterbeer right away. It was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted and seemed to heat every bit of him from the inside.

A sudden breeze ruffled his hair. The door of the Three Broomsticks had opened again. Charlus looked over the rim of his tankard and choked, which caused his brother and his friends to turn in the door's direction.

Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had just entered the pub with a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with a portly man in a lime-green bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak -- Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.

In an instant, Ron and Alistair had both placed hands on the top of Charlus and Harry's heads and forced them off their stools and under the table. Dripping with butterbeer and crouching out of sight, Charlus clutched his empty tankard and watched the teachers' and Fudge's feet move toward the bar, pause, then turn and walk right towards them. Somewhere above him, Hermione whispered, "Mobiliarbus!"

The Christmas tree beside their table rose a few inches off the ground, drifted sideways, and landed with a soft thump right in front of their table, hiding them from view. Charlus took a quick glance at Harry beside him before he stared through the dense lower branches. He saw four sets of chair legs move back from the table right beside theirs, then heard the grunts and sighs of the teachers and minister as they sat down.

The golden five could hear their voices in the distance as Rosmerta had approached the new customers with drinks in hand already.

The barmaid called out, "A small gillywater-" "Mine," Professor McGonagall's voice said. "Four pints of mulled mead —" "Ta, Rosmerta," Hagrid said. "A cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella -" "Mmm!" Professor Flitwick said, smacking his lips.

"So you'll be the red currant rum, Minister." "Thank you, Rosmerta, m'dear," Fudge said in a flirtatious tone. "Lovely to see you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won't you? Come and join us..."

Charlus watched the glittering heels march away and back again. His heart was pounding uncomfortably in his throat. Why hadn't it occurred to him and Harry that this was the last weekend of term for the teachers too? And how long were they going to sit there? They needed time to sneak back into Honeydukes if they wanted to return to school tonight...

Hermione's leg gave a nervous twitch next to him. "So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?" came Madam Rosmerta's voice.

Charlus saw the lower part of Fudge's thick body twist in his chair as though he were checking for eavesdroppers out of the corner of his eye. Then he said in a quiet voice, "What else, m'dear, but Sirius Black and Daniel White-Riddle? I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Halloween?"

"I did hear a rumour," Madam Rosmerta admitted. "Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?" Professor McGonagall asked exasperatedly, to which Hargid simply sunk into his barstool.

"Do you think Black and White-Riddle are still in the area, Minister?" Madam Rosmerta whispered. "I'm sure of it," Fudge said shortly, sipping on his rum.

"You know that the Dementors have searched the whole village twice?" Madam Rosmerta said, a slight edge to her voice. "Scared all my customers away... It's very bad for business, Minister."

"Rosmerta, dear, I don't like them any more than you do," Fudge said uncomfortably. "Necessary precaution... unfortunate, but there you are... I've just met some of them. They're in fury against Dumbledore — he won't let them inside the castle grounds."

"I should think not," Professor McGonagall said sharply. "How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?" "Hear, hear!" tiny Professor Flitwick squeaked, whose feet were dangling a foot from the ground.

"All the same," Fudge demurred, "they are here to protect you all from something much worse... We all know what Black and White Riddle are capable of..."

"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," Madam Rosmerta said thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black and Daniel White-Riddle were the last I'd have thought... I mean, I remember them when they were boys at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what they were going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead."

"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," Fudge said gruffly. "The worst they did isn't widely known." "The worst?" Madam Rosmerta said, her voice alive with curiosity. "Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?"

 "I certainly do," Fudge said. "I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?" "You say you remember them at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," Professor McGonagall murmured. "Do you remember who their best friends were?"

"Naturally," Madam Rosmerta said, with a small laugh. "Never saw any of them apart from another, did you? The number of times I had them in here — ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the quadruple act, Sirius Black, James Potter, Daniel and Aurora White-Riddle!"

Alistair heard Charlus drop his tankard with a loud clunk, so naturally, the black-haired boy kicked him slightly to let him know not to blow their cover.

"Precisely," Professor McGonagall said. "Black, Potter and the White-Riddle twins. Ringleaders of their little gang. All very bright, of course — exceptionally bright, in fact — but I don't think we've ever had such a quartet of troublemakers —"

"I dunno," Hagrid chuckled. "Fred and George Weasley could give 'em a run fer their money." "You'd have thought Black, Potter and the White-Riddle twins were siblings!" Professor Flitwick chimed in. "Inseparable!"

"Of course they were," Fudge said. "Potter trusted Black and the White-Riddle twins beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black and White-Riddle were best men when James married Lily. They named Sirius and Aurora godparents of Charlus and Daniel godfather to Harry , with Marlene McKinnon being the godmother. They have no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment them.....oh! Not to mention that James and Lily Potter were Alistair's godparents ."

"Because Black and White-Riddle turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?" Madam Rosmerta whispered. "What about Aurora?" "She died after Alistair was born." Fudge dropped his voice and proceeded in a sort of low rumble. "Not many people are aware that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm."

"How does that work?" Madam Rosmerta said breathless with interest. Professor Flitwick cleared his throat. "An immensely complex spell," he said squeakily, "involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find — unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. As long as the Secret-Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Lily and James were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nose pressed against their sitting room window!"

 "So Black and White-Riddle were the Potters' Secret-Keepers?" Madam Rosmerta whispered. "Naturally," Professor McGonagall said. "James Potter told Dumbledore that Black and White-Riddle would die rather than tell where they were, that Black and White-Riddle were planning to go into hiding themselves ... and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters' Secret-Keeper himself."

"He suspected Black and White-Riddle, his own godson?" Madam Rosmerta gasped. ""He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements," Professor McGonagall said somberly. "Indeed, he had suspected for some time that two on our side had turned traitors and were passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who."

"But James Potter insisted on using Black and White-Riddle?" "He did," Fudge said heavily. "And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed . . ." "Black and White-Riddle betrayed them?" Madam Rosmerta breathed.

"They did indeed. Black and White-Riddle were tired of their double-agent roles, they were ready to declare their support openly for You-Know-Who, and they seems to have planned this for the moment of the Potters' death. But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Charlus and Harry Potter. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black and White-Riddle in a very nasty position indeed. Their master had fallen at the very moment when they, Black and White-Riddle, had shown their true colors as a traitors. They had no choice but to run for it —"

"Filthy, stinkin' turncoats!" Hagrid said, so loudly that half the bar went quiet. "Shh!" Professor McGonagall said.

"I met them!" Hagrid growled. "I musta bin the last ter see them before them killed all of them people! It was me what rescued Charlus and Harry from Lily an' James's house after they was killed! Jus' got them outta the ruins, poor little things, with a great slash across their foreheads, an' their parents dead... an' Sirius Black and Daniel White-Riddle turns up, on that flyin' motorbike one of them used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what they there doin' there. I didn' know they'd bin Lily an' James's Secret-Keepers. Thought they'd jus' heard the news o' You-Know-Who's attack an' come ter see what they could do. White an' shakin', they were. An' yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN' TRAITORS!" Hagrid roared.

"Hagrid, please!" Professor McGonagall said. "Keep your voice down!"

"How was I ter know they weren' upset abou' Lily and James? It was You-Know-Who theycared abou'! An' then White-Riddle says, 'Give Charlus and Harry ter us, Hagrid, we are their godfathers, we will look after them.—' Ha! But I'd had me orders from Dumbledore, an, I told Black and White-Riddle no, Dumbledore said Charlus and Harry were ter go ter their aunt an' uncle's. Black and White-Riddle argued, but in the end they gave in. Black told me ter take his motorbike ter get Charlus and Harry there. 'I won't need it anymore,' he says."

"I shoulda known there was somethin' fishy goin' on then. He loved that motorbike, what was he givin' it ter me for? Why wouldn' he need it anymore? Fact was, it was too easy ter trace. Dumbledore knew Black and White-Riddle'd bin the Potters' Secret-Keepers. They knew they were goin' ter have ter run fer it that night, knew it was a matter o' hours before the Ministry was after them."

"But what if I'd given Charlus and Harry to them, eh? I bet they 'd've pitched them off the bike halfway out ter sea. their bes' friends' sons! But when  wizards goes over ter the Dark Side, there's nothin' and no one that matters to 'em anymore. . . ."

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

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

"Pettigrew... that fat little boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?" Madam Rosmerta said. "Hero-worshipped "Black, Potter and the White-Riddle twins," said Professor McGonagall. "Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rather sharp 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," Fudge said kindly, "Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eyewitnesses -- Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later -- told us how Pettigrew cornered Black and White-Riddle. They say he was sobbing, 'Lily and James, Sirius,Daniel! How could you?' And then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black and White-Riddle were quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens...."

Professor McGonagall blew her nose and said thickly, "Stupid boy... foolish boy... he was always hopeless at dueling... should have left it to the Ministry..." "I tell yeh, if I'd got ter Black and White-Riddle before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn't've messed around with wands — I'd 've ripped them limb — from — limb," Hagrid growled.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid," Fudge said sharply. "Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black and White-Riddle once they were 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 and White-Riddle 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 and White-Riddle standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of them... a heap of bloodstained robes and a few - a few fragments - his finger - oh god, the finger..."

Fudge's voice stopped abruptly. There was the sound of five noses being blown. "Well, there you have it, Rosmerta," The Minsiter said thickly. "Black and White-Riddle was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Black and White-Riddle have been in Azkaban ever since."

Madam Rosmerta let out a long sigh. "Is it true they are mad, Minister?"

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

"But what do you think they have broken out to do?" Madam Rosmerta asked. "Good gracious, Minister, they aren't trying to rejoin You-Know-Who, are they?"

"I daresay that is their — er — eventual plan," Fudge said evasively. "But we hope to catch Black and White-Riddle long before that. I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing... but give him back their most devoted servants, 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 better head back up to the castle," Professor McGonagall said.

One by one, the pairs of feet in front of Charlus 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 had disappeared.

"Charlus? Harry?"

Alistair's, Ron's and Hermione's faces appeared under the table. The three of them were staring at them in disbelief, lost for words.

━━ AUTHORS NOTE

awww this chapter was very sad to write in my opinion. If only everyone knew the truth about Sirius and Daniel...

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Thank you for reading this far.

Until next time, much love to you all!