679Apologies for the delay, working in the NHS is still a nightmare, but I hope you enjoy this chapter.
Cedric waited with bated breathing for his mum to make her decision. Her face was very stern as she paced up and down, but when she looked back there was a familiar twinkle in her dark eyes.
"You won't go too high? Or too fast?"
"No," said Cedric. "I'll be careful, promise."
Mum's lips twitched, and she nodded. "All right, but I expect you back in time for tea."
Cedric beamed, and bounced to his feet. "Thank you!"
His mother's laughter followed him as he raced through to the back of the house. The old, but well looked after Silver Arrow his grandfather had given him hung from its hook, and Cedric felt it shiver in its hands as he lifted it down.
"I know," he told it. "It's been much too long."
The new brooms at Hogwarts were great, but there was something special about his own broom. His parents had looked after it well while he was gone, but Cedric still checked it over carefully. A lifetime of fighting had taught him caution, and it was a good habit to get into besides.
By the time he was happy, his mum had packed him an appropriate selection of sweets, and a note for Mrs Weasley. Cedric settled his rucksack on his back, kissed her on the cheek, and shot off into the sky.
Cedric loved flying, in any weather and for any reason, but being on his way to spend a day with his friends on a clear winter morning was something special. He hadn't seen any of the Weasleys since they had broken up for the holidays, and while it had been good to be able to concentrate on Harry and Susan he had missed the Weasleys too.
It wasn't far to the Burrow, especially by air, but Cedric's hands were soon numb with cold. A Wandless Warming Charm helped though, and the beauty of his surroundings more than made up for it. He couldn't wait to show this to Harry and Rowena one day. They might even be able to coax Susan onto a broom. He smiled at the thought, and it widened when the Burrow came into view.
Someone must have spotted him, or his mum had called ahead, for red-heads were pouring out into the garden as Cedric started his descent. He landed in the garden, and barely had time to get his balance before Fred was thumping him on the back.
"How'd you get your mum to let you fly here?"
"I'm trustworthy," said Cedric with a grin, and laughed when the twins gave identical explosive snorts.
"Jammy git," said George. "Mum won't let us fly in the orchard without Charlie there."
"Yeah, 'cause she knows you," Charlie pointed out. He reached over Ron's head to shake Cedric's hand. "It's good to see you, Cedric."
Cedric smiled at him. Charlie was a sixth year now, and Quidditch Captain, and one of the most popular students at Hogwarts, but he hadn't changed at all. "You too. How's the studying going?"
Charlie pulled a face. "Nope. We're not talking about school on my day off from revising." He squinted up at the clear sky. "I know you just only just got here, but I don't know how long this weather's going to last, so if we want to get a game in…"
"Sounds good," said Cedric quickly. "Give me a minute though, I need to say hello to your mum." He glanced round and frowned. "I'm guessing Percy's upstairs, but where's Ginny?"
She normally would have jumped on him by now. Charlie chuckled. "She went over to see Luna. She'll be sorry she missed you.
Cedric smiled. "I'll visit again before we go back to school." He turned towards the house, and spotted Ron hovering at the edge of the group. "Hi Ron. You ready for Quidditch?"
Behind him Fred sighed, but Ron lit up. "Yeah! I've been practicing really hard!" He bounced on his toes. "And Percy got a new chess set for Christmas so I got his old pieces."
"We'll have a game later," said Cedric, with a nod.
Ron beamed at him, and Cedric stamped on Fred's foot without looking at him. Fred grumbled under his breath, but Cedric left George to handle him and slipped his rucksack off his shoulders. "I'll be back in a minute."
Mrs Weasley was bustling around the kitchen and Cedric smelled scones in the oven before he even opened the door. Tension he hadn't realised he'd been holding drained out of his shoulders. The Burrow had practically been a second home for the last eleven years, and he had spent a lot of time in this kitchen.
Harry would love it. He had never had a big family. Cedric pushed that thought firmly to the back of his mind, and pulled open the door.
"Good morning, Mrs Weasley."
He was promptly engulfed in a floury hug. "Hello, dear. I hope the flight over wasn't too cold." She pulled back and gave him an appraising look. "At least you had the sense to wear gloves."
Cedric smiled. "Mum wouldn't let me leave without them. Oh, and she made these for us."
He handed over the bag of sufganiyot, and Mrs Weasley beamed at him. "How wonderful, thank you. I'll send you back with some of these scones you like."
"Cedric, come on!"
Cedric winced at the yell from the garden, but Mrs Weasley's eyes sparkled. "You run along and play now, dear."
He should have bristled at being talked to like that, but it was hard to get annoyed with Molly Weasley. Besides, he did want to play Quidditch. Cedric grinned at her, and dashed back out into the snow.
"I'm here," he called. "What are the teams?"
"Cedric's with me!"
Cedric swallowed a laugh with an effort as the twins glared at each other. Fred's eyes narrowed. "I said it first."
George glared back. "We said it at the same time," he growled. "And he was on your team last time."
"Was not. You're thinking of the time last summer-"
"Don't be stupid, you know what I'm talking about-"
"You're the stupid one if you can't remember that-"
"Stop that," Charlie snapped. The twins switched their glares to him, but Charlie just folded his arms and scowled back. "We'll swap the teams around after each match. Cedric, you'll be with me first."
"Sounds good," Cedric agreed.
Fred and George looked momentarily crestfallen, before exchanging identical grins. "Fine," said Fred. "But don't complain when we win."
"I can promise you that we won't," said Cedric solemnly, but even as he said it he found his eyes drifting to Ron. The younger boy was watching them with wide eyes, but the slump of his shoulders betrayed his resignation. He sighed and started to turn back towards the house, and Cedric's heart clenched.
"Are you going to play, Ron?"
Fred frowned, but Ron looked like Christmas had come round again. "Really? I can play?"
He turned to Charlie, and Cedric saw his resistance evaporate under that hopeful stare. Charlie chuckled and ruffled his brother's hair. "Why not? The more the merrier." He cocked his head to one side. "It makes the teams uneven, but we'll cope."
"Because having the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain on one of them didn't make it uneven at all," said Cedric pointedly.
Ron hastily turned a snort into a cough. The twins didn't bother hiding their cackles, but Cedric kept his most innocent expression in place as Charlie peered at him. "Are you sure you're a Hufflepuff?"
"I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be," said Cedric firmly.
Charlie looked at him, his gaze turning appraising. "Yes," he said. "I think you are." He flashed a sudden blinding grin, and chucked the Quaffle to Ron. "Come on then. Let's get moving before the rain hits."
Cedric grinned and grabbed his broom. It was going to be a good day.
Alastor was not having a good day.
For a start, he hated winter. The cold made his stump ache and the remains of his nose throb, and snow and ice were a pain in the arse to navigate. Add to that all the idiots that came out around the holidays, and Alastor was ready to sleep until spring.
If he was having a bad day though, Scrimgeour's was going even worse.
"How did they get hold of it?"
Alastor shrugged. The Ministry was as leaky as a sieve, and the Auror Department was no exception. Scrimgeour glared down at the front of the Prophet, where Sirius Black's personal statement was printed in full in their most impressive font, and slumped back into the chair.
"The mail room is already full of letters of protest," he said. "The public were angry enough about the lack of a trial, and now this…"
He trailed off with a scowl. Alastor grimaced. "Black always did have a way with words."
He had heard enough from Minerva to know that, but even he had been surprised by just how eloquent the statement was. Persuasive was an understatement. Scrimgeour gave a thin smile.
"It's probably a good thing," he said. "Fudge was already bowing under the weight of public opinion. I won't be surprised if he skips the trial altogether and goes straight for the pardon."
Alastor bit back a comment with an effort, Scrimgeour was well aware of his opinions on Fudge, and focused on the matter at hand. "Wouldn't be such a bad thing. He's been on the run long enough."
Scrimgeous grunted. His hand dropped to massage his bad knee as he squinted up at Alastor. "Still no luck tracking him down?"
Anyone who didn't know him as well as Alastor did would have missed the amusement in his eyes. Alastor just shrugged again. "He's good, but I have some ideas."
Scrimgeour sat back in his chair. "Maybe you should go and follow them up."
Alastor smirked at him. "Try a heating charm on that knee," he said. "Works wonders." He pushed himself off from the wall and stomped towards the door. "Don't murder Fudge before I get back."
Scrimgeour's snort of laughter followed him from the room, and Alastor smirked as he left the department and headed for the atrium. Being an Auror was a tough job, but at least his boss wasn't one of his problems.
The usual horde of vultures were waiting in the atrium, but not even Skeeter tried to ask him for a comment. Alastor favoured them with a smile that made a couple of the younger ones blanche, then turned on his heel and Disapparated.
There was even more snow in Birmingham than there was in London. Alastor swore under his breath as he made his way through to Lupin's inconspicuous little terraced house. His mood improved slightly when he faint the faint crackle of static that indicated they'd finally put up some sort of protections, but when he thumped on the door there was no reply.
"Lupin," he barked. "Open up."
He knocked again, harder this time, and finally the door swung open to reveal a harried-looking Lupin. Alastor spared a moment to be grateful that Black had finally learned to stay out of sight before scowling.
"What kept you?"
"Sorry," said Lupin. "We were upstairs."
He closed the door and hurried back up without another word. Alastor sighed and followed.
The house looked like a whirlwind had gone through it. Old books and papers were scattered everywhere, and Alastor spotted old toys and joke shop products underneath the dust. Black stood in the centre of the chaos going through yet another trunk, and he didn't look up as they entered.
"They're not here either!"
Lupin sighed. "I told you I haven't seen them in years." He picked up a battered Snitch, expression turning nostalgic. "I'd forgotten I'd kept this."
"Focus, Moony," Black snapped. "Where else could they be?"
"What the hell is going on here?" Alastor demanded.
Black spun round, wand appearing in his hand, only to trip on a sheaf of papers and hit the ground with a crash. Alastor rolled his eyes. "Your situational awareness is dreadful."
Black scrambled to his feet and stuffed his wand back into his jeans. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. What do you want, Moody?"
"I asked first."
Lupin stepped between them before an argument could ensue. "We heard from Harry again."
"What? What did he say?"
Lupin smiled, and it made him look a decade younger. "He liked our Christmas present. I think he might be starting to trust us."
Alastor gave a non-committal grunt, and Black huffed. "He's not going to trust us if we can't help him now. Why did you go and lose them for?"
"I didn't do it on purpose," said Lupin, rolling his eyes. "It's not a disaster, we can make new ones easily enough-"
"That'll take time, and Harry wants them now!"
"What does he want?" Alastor asked.
Lupin sighed. "He asked if we knew of a way to communicate face to face." He looked at Black, and when Black shrugged he continued, "When we were at school we had these mirrors. They were paired, so if you spoke into one the other person could hear you."
"We used to use them in detention," said Black. For a moment his expression was wistful, before the manic energy returned. "Now Harry needs them and we can't bloody find them!"
Alastor had to take a moment to pull his mind back from the multitude of ways that that sort of communication could be helpful before he could reply. "How long would it take to make new ones?"
Black waved a hand. "A few days, once we get the base materials, but that's too slow!"
"Sirius," said Lupin with a sigh, "Harry doesn't need them straight away. He asked if we had ideas, not if we could provide him with an instant solution."
"I don't care! It's been years, Remus! I want to see my godson!" He paused, eyes gleaming. "I know where mine are."
Lupin frowned, then his eyes widened and he shook his head. "You cannot break into Grimmauld Place!"
"Why not?"
"You were disowned, Sirius! If your mother sees you-"
"I'm not afraid of her," Black spat. "Or Kreacher, or anything else in that hellhole."
"Hold on," Alastor interrupted. "Black, have you forgotten that you're a fugitive?"
"I don't-"
"And that your house is under surveillance?"
"So?" Black demanded. "I can dodge them easily enough. I broke out of Azkaban, didn't I?"
Lupin let his head fall against the wall. Alastor took a deep breath and fixed Black with his fiercest glare. "You're an idiot."
Black flushed, but Alastor didn't give him a chance to interrupt, "You're going to get yourself captured or killed, and for what? A couple of mirrors that you can reproduce in a couple of days anyway?"
"For Harry," Black snarled. "For all the times I let him down before."
"Getting yourself hurt is not going to help Harry," Alastor insisted. "You know that." He took a step closer. "You're burning up with the need to do something, but you're not thinking. Harry needs you alive and free, not in prison, and definitely not caught up with your damned family."
"But I have to do something!" Black exploded. He turned on his heel and started pacing, eyes flashing and voice rising higher and higher. "I abandoned him! He was stuck with those people for years, and he hated so much that he ran away to Merlin knows where, and I wasn't there!"
"Sirius," Lupin began, but Black silenced him with a look.
"I failed him," he rasped, and the quiet devastation was worse than the screaming. "I failed him for so long. I can't…I won't fail him again."
Alastor's chest ached. None of this should have happened. Harry and Black both deserved so much better. He shifted, at a loss for how to help, and it was Lupin who stepped forward. He rested a hand on Black's shoulder, and when Black didn't react he gripped both arms hard.
"You won't," he said fiercely. "Neither of us will. But we can't keep rushing into things, Sirius. We have to think about Harry first."
The two of them stared at each other for a long minute. Alastor watched patiently, until finally Black sagged as if his strings had been cut. Lupin caught him into a fierce hug.
"I know," he said. "We'll find him. We won't let him down again."
Alastor gave them a minute before clearing his throat. "What do you need to make these mirrors?"
Black gaped at him, then a brilliant smile spread across his face. For a moment he looked like the young man who had fought alongside them, then he moved forward to grip Alastor's hand.
"Thank you."
Alastor coughed. "All right," he said gruffly. "Least I could do."
Both of them were looking at him in a way that made him very uncomfortable, and he cast about for a change of subject. The copy of the most recent Daily Prophet lying in the corner was as good as any.
"Your statement made an impact."
Lupin followed his gaze and shook his head. "It's the first time I've been glad that the Ministry is so unreliable," he said dryly.
Black snorted, and Alastor nodded. "Press is having a field day. Wouldn't be surprised if the Minister takes action soon."
"Good," said Black. His grey eyes glittered as they met Alastor's. "I've got work to do."
"Check."
Cedric stared at the chessboard, then at Ron. "Huh," he managed. "I didn't see that one coming."
Ron's ears blazed red as he gave a shy smile. "Percy found a book on chess in the library and brought it home for me. It was interesting."
"I can see you've learned a lot," said Cedric. The game wasn't unsalvageable, but it was going to be a bit more tricky than he was expecting. He moved his king out of danger, and winced when it cost him his remaining bishop. "That was a good move."
"Thanks," Ron mumbled.
His ears were still as red as his hair. Cedric grinned, suddenly even more glad than ever that he'd made the time for a game before heading home. The Weasleys were some of his favourite people, but Ron was unassuming enough that it was easy for him to fall through the cracks. Seeng him so happy was worth getting home a bit late.
Cedric did end up winning the game, but it was the closest he had come to losing in a long time. Ron pulled a face as he carefully packed his pieces away.
"I'll beat you next time," he vowed. "I'm going to ask Percy to look for more books when he goes back to Hogwarts."
"That's a good idea," said Cedric. He thought for a moment. "It might be worth checking the Muggle library in town too. Muggles play chess too, after all."
"I hadn't thought of that. Thanks!"
"No problem." He ruffled Ron's hair, and grinned when he ducked away the same way Harry did. "Maybe you should look into competitions. You'd definitely stand a chance."
Ron ducked his head in a futile attempt to hide an even brighter blush. "Maybe," he mumbled.
He opened his mouth, then paused and closed it again. Cedric cocked his head to one side. Ron was as competitive as Charlie and the twins, and he would normally leap at a chance to prove himself, but his eyes were fixed on the chess pieces. Cedric chewed on his lip for a moment, but he couldn't leave that alone.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Ron squeaked.
It would be more convincing if he managed to meet Cedric's gaze. Cedric leaned forward. "Come on, Ron. You can talk to me."
Ron nodded. He took a deep breath and looked up. "I just… Can I ask you something?"
"Of course," said Cedric. "You can ask me anything, you know that." He gripped Ron's shoulder. "What's on your mind?"
Ron hesitated a moment longer, then took another breath. "When you were sorted into Hufflepuff, was it because you wanted to, or because your parents were there?"
Cedric blinked at him. Whatever he had been expecting, that wasn't it. Ron shifted in his seat. "Never mind," he muttered. "It doesn't matter."
He started to push himself upright, and Cedric hurried to catch his arm. "I don't mind," he said. "I just hadn't thought about it."
Ron sat back with a small smile. Cedric considered his answer for a minute, then nodded to himself. He couldn't tell the whole truth, but Ron wouldn't ask for no reason and he deserved a proper answer. "A bit of both, I guess," he said finally. "I knew it would make my parents happy, but I wouldn't have gone there if I would have fitted in better somewhere else."
Ron nodded slowly. Cedric studied him. "Can I ask why you were thinking about it?"
Ron shrugged. His eyes dropped to the king he was rolling around in his fingers, but Cedric waited and after a minute Ron's shoulders slumped. "I thought you'd be in Gryffindor."
Cedric had to smile. "I thought about it," he admitted. "But I like Hufflepuff as much as I would have liked Gryffindor."
Ron frowned slightly, but didn't argue. He kept his eyes on the king. "Weasleys have been in Gryffindor for generations."
Cedric let out a long breath as the meaning behind Ron's questions became clear. "I've heard," he said. "But you know you don't have to go there if you don't want to."
Ron snorted. "Yeah, like the twins would ever let me live that down."
"It's not up to them," said Cedric firmly. "And if they tried to give you any problems then I'd deal with it."
Ron looked up at that, his eyes wide with surprise, and Cedric smiled at him. "You can go wherever you want, Ron. Even Slytherin, and don't start with that 'all Slytherins are evil' nonsense," he added, when Ron frowned. "You've heard about Pettigrew in the news, and he was a Gryffindor. Dark wizards come from all houses, not just Slytherin."
Ron looked slightly taken aback by his fervour, and Cedric reigned himself back in with an effort. He knew he had feelings about this, and he didn't want to make anyone too suspicious. Ron still didn't look entirely convinced though, and Cedric sighed.
"Look, I've got a friend who is almost definitely going to be in Slytherin, and he's one of the kindest people I've ever met. Just think about it, will you?"
Ron frowned, but he nodded. Cedric smiled, and ruffled his hair again. "I really should get going, but I'll see you before we go back to school."
"Okay," said Ron. "Thanks, Cedric."
Cedric smiled, and went to say goodbye to the twins. It looked like he had another project. If they were going to put an end to the destructive antagonism that had sprung up between their houses, then this was as good a place to start as any.
"We might have a problem."
Harry tore his eyes from the Tamil dictionary he was paging through and blinked up. "What kind of problem?"
Helena floated down to eye level. She smiled slightly as she took in what he was working on, but her expression soon turned serious. "That prank you pulled on Professor Snape."
Harry smirked at the reminder but Helena's next words banished all traces of amusement, "He knows that none of his students could be behind it."
"What?" Harry demanded. "How?"
Yes, it had been a new creation, but he had been careful. Nothing in that potion had been beyond the capabilities of a talented student, even one who hadn't finished their studies.
Except Salazar had known the capabilities of every single one of his students. If Snape was half the Potions Master Harry had heard he was…
Harry groaned and let his head fall onto the desk.
"What did I miss?"
A chill touched the back of his neck as Helena drifted closer. "You used liverwort as the catalyst. Various substitutes discovered in North America have been far more popular for centuries."
Harry winced. He really should have thought of that. "I'm never going to live this down."
"You're not infallible, Uncle," said Helena gently. "Not even you can absorb a thousand years of knowledge in six months."
Harry managed a weak huff, but his mind was racing at the implications. If Snape knew that someone else was responsible for creating that potion they were going to have to be far more careful with the knowledge they displayed in class.
Well, Cedric would. Harry and Susan wouldn't have that issue for a couple of years yet. He still should have known better.
"I got cocky."
He hated to admit it, but it was true. He had been so determined to do something, anything to protect their students, that he had let his creativity get ahead of his common sense. It wasn't a mistake he could afford to repeat.
"It's not such a disaster," said Helena. "They already knew that something was going on." A wry smile touched her face. "You haven't exactly kept a low profile."
Harry snorted and raised his head to look at her. "Exorcising Binns and burning down the broom shed within the first months probably did stir some suspicions," he agreed. "I expect Rowena will have something to say about that too."
Helena's smile faltered slightly at the mention of her mother, but she covered it quickly. "The Headmaster is looking into it. He's asked all of us to keep our eyes open, and he's been doing research into Hogwarts' earliest records."
"For all the good that will do him," said Harry. Hogwarts wouldn't cooperate, not when it came to them. The ghosts were a different matter, but Harry had had plenty of practice at dodging enemies. Not that the ghosts were enemies, but it was good practice.
Still, he would have to be careful. Cedric would need to be warned. Harry took a deep breath and nodded.
"Thank you. Will you tell me if you hear anything else?"
"Of course," said Helena. She grinned suddenly. "This is the most fun I've had in centuries."
Harry burst out laughing. He couldn't help it. Helena looked absolutely delighted with herself, and the weight evaporated from Harry's shoulders. It had been too long since he had last seen his niece look like that. Helena beamed at him, and arranged herself as if sitting on the sofa next to him.
"How are you getting on with that?"
Harry wiped his eyes and refocused on the notebooks. "Slowly. It's a beautiful language, but it's hard to learn from books."
Helena nodded. "Well, with any luck it won't be long until you can get lessons in person."
Harry glanced at the latest copy of the Daily Prophet and smiled. Things were looking very promising on the godfather front, and he had received a hastily scribbled note from Sirius promising that they had a solution to his communication problems too.
Things were definitely beginning to look up.
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