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The many Deaths of Harry Potter by ShayneT
 Books » Harry Potter Rated: T, English, Harry P., Hermione G., Words: 242k+, Favs: 6k+, Follows: 4k+, Published: Mar 2, 2017 Updated: Jun 15, 2017 3,851Chapter 37: Capture
"The Ministry does not follow the whims of a thirteen year old boy."
Considering that Cornelius Fudge had just been thrown out of office by the enraged parents and family of the children of Hogwarts, and by a concerted smear campaign, the new Minister for Magic didn't have much room to talk.
"I was right," Harry said. "Isn't that more important than how old I am?"
Rufus Scrimgeour had been appointed two days before, and Harry was now, finally, belatedly getting his meeting with the new Minister for Magic.
"You went to the press after one meeting?" Scrimgeour asked, leaning forward. "That's not how governments work!"
"If I'd waited there would be hundreds of grieving parents right now," Harry said. "People who wouldn't even get to see their children again after they died. What did you want me to do?"
"Support the Ministry! We're all that stands between the populace and the forces of darkness!"
"I'm a thirteen year old boy," Harry said. "What could I possibly do to help anyone?"
Scrimgeour's office was almost spartan; there were no pictures on the walls or other decorations. There was a desk and a couple of chairs and a couple of boxes in the corner. The man hadn't been in office long enough to personalize his office.
"You really are a Slytherin aren't you?" Scrimgeour said.
"It takes one to know one," Harry said. He looked up at the new Minister. "Leaving the dementors is a non-starter. People are outraged enough that if you try they'll have a new Minister in before you have a chance to decorate this office."
"What do you suggest? A continual guard?"
"I can handle myself pretty well," Harry said. "It wouldn't take much. One other Auror to watch me, in shifts and I'd likely be fine."
"All it would take would be an ambush and one guard wouldn't be enough."
"Do you believe in your prophecy or not?" Harry asked. "If you do, then Black isn't the one who's going to kill me. If you don't, then you are spending a lot of resources on protecting an orphan who doesn't have much political influence."
"You say that after you almost brought down the Ministry?"
"The Ministry almost brought itself down. They should have at least fed the dementors after it was pointed out to them instead of getting stubborn."
"Two guards in rotating shifts," Scrimgeour said. "Children think they are immortal but adults know better."
"Done," Harry said.
"And don't think you'll be able to slip away and leave Hogwarts again like you did before."
Harry hesitated, then said, "Do you think the aurors would be willing to train me? As long as they're already there."
"I won't order them to do anything. I'll leave it to your ability to convince them."
Harry grinned.
"Now about what you can do for the Ministry..."
Harry hadn't expected to get his guard immediately after leaving the office.
"Only a year out of Hogwarts and here I am, guarding Harry Potter," the younger of the two said. "You can call me Tonks, since I don't care for my first name."
She looked young enough to still be a student at Hogwarts. Harry wondered why the Ministry was giving him someone who was just out of training if they were really worried about him.
"Dawlish," the second one said shortly.
"Weren't you the bodyguard for the last Minister?" Harry asked. He'd seen his picture in the paper next to a harried looking Cornelius Fudge.
The man grunted. He looked capable and self assured, exactly like the sort of man Harry would have expected to be an aurors. His hair was wiry and gray. Harry hoped he'd be able to get a few pointers from him.
Of course, this had to be a step down for him. Harry hoped he didn't hold a grudge.
Harry saw the toad woman staring at him with an expression of absolute hatred. Somehow she'd managed to keep her position, but Harry was sure it had damaged her career.
He smiled at her, wondering if he should take such vindictive pleasure in her discomfort.
Considering that she was as much responsible for Fudge's downfall as he was, Harry didn't feel terribly guilty.
"You'll have to watch out for that one," Tonks muttered as they passed her. "She holds grudges."
Harry nodded. The fact that she'd survived the scandal that had taken Fudge down showed that she had some degree of being politically astute.
"She should watch out for me," Harry said.
"Don't get ahead of yourself," Dawlish said. "You're still only thirteen."
Harry glanced back at the two aurors behind him. "And I just toppled a Minister from power. What do you think I'll do by the time I'm twenty?"
Assuming, of course that he ever made it to twenty.
The disturbed looks the aurors gave each other barely registered as they took the floo back to Hogwarts, something that normally wouldn't be allowed without the special permission of the Headmaster.
Apparently Hogwarts was usually kept disconnected from the network for reasons of security.
Harry quickly found the presence of the aurors to be stifling. While he could generally ignore them in class, where they generally stood in the back of the room, it was much more difficult to ignore them when they had to check the toilet before he went to the loo.
He felt constricted in what he said around Hermione and Neville as well; little in-jokes that he didn't feel comfortable telling when there were adults around.
At least he'd managed to convince the aurors to train him; apparently they were as bored as he was, and they saw their sessions as a perfect opportunity to keep their hand in.
Considering how young Tonks was, she was much better at dueling than Harry would have expected. She was fast, and what she lacked in experience she made up for in creativity.
Dawlish on the other hand was a nightmare. Compared to the people Harry was used to dueling he was fast and vicious, although Harry suspected he wouldn't have had a chance against Dumbledore or Voldemort.
Flitwick had a tendency to match his skills to Harry's, feeling that Harry would be easily discouraged if he went up against someone of Flitwick's caliber. Dawlish didn't bother.
The fact that he'd been effectively demoted because of Harry probably didn't help.
There were two other aurors who guarded Harry by night; these were both male, and Malfoy complained incessantly about them. Neither of them seemed to exhibit much personality.
Days turned into weeks, and there wasn't any sign of Black. Harry began to wonder if Black had simply given up on the whole idea of attacking him and scampered off to France to eat baguettes or something.
Really, Harry wondered why most villains bothered. Voldemort probably could have become Minster for Magic quite easily. He could have enacted the policies that he wanted if he'd done it slowly enough, encroaching on people's rights a little at a time.
He could have embezzled massive amounts of money and lived like a king. Instead he'd become a terrorist. Why?
Wasn't telling other people what to do more of a bother than anything? Wouldn't it be better to be on a beach somewhere sipping firewhisky than hiding in a cave fearing the next attack by aurors?
Nevertheless, Harry kept covertly checking his Map whenever he thought the aurors wouldn't notice.
He was sure that letting them see it would be a disaster. They'd confiscate it in a minute so that they could find Black the minute he entered the school.
That might have been all right, but Harry wasn't sure they'd give it back when they were done. He had a feeling that he'd beed it later, when Voldemort got serious about attacking him.
As was his habit, Harry checked the Map before going to sleep. The last thing he wanted was for Black to appear and cause problems; the Ministry would likely claim that this was what happened because they removed the dementors.
Hmm...Weasley was in bed again with someone named Pettigrew. Harry didn't know all of the Gryffindors, but he found it a little scandalous, not just because of Weasley's age but because he was sleeping not ten feet away from the others.
Maybe the Gryffindors were a little more liberal about relationships.
He'd seen other things on the Map that he didn't reveal to anyone either; students together in the broom closets with their feet in suggestive positions, or in the toilets, or even behind the bushes late at night. It was hard to find places to be private with others in a place where there were portraits everywhere watching, so students tended to end up in the same place.
He'd even seen some at the top of the Astronomy tower during times where there were no classes.
Well, it wasn't any of his business what Weasley did, although he did find it ironic that it was Ginny the twins were worried about.
He stiffened as he saw Black in one of the secret passages.
Harry stood and began to dress as quickly as he could. If Black was going to be going to the Gryffindor common room, he wanted to be waiting for him.
After all, the man had been responsible for most of the bad things that had happened in Harry's life. If he hadn't betrayed Harry's parents, Harry might have had the opportunity to live in a loving family. He'd have been raised by parents who loved magic, who loved each other.
He'd have grown to trust people, and he wouldn't have died more than a half dozen times. He wouldn't be anyone famous.
There might have been more than one happy memory to power his patronus, not that he'd have needed one.
The war itself might have been over. Dumbledore surely would have killed Voldermort by now if he hadn't disappeared.
Harry stepped out into the hallway where the two aurors were standing guard.
"Where are you going?" one auror asked. He had never been particularly friendly to Harry.
"Common room," Harry said shortly.; "Forgot something."
The aurors followed him.
It might have been easier with Dawlish and Tonks instead of these two faceless drones, but Harry's mind raced.
If he told them what he was really after there was no way that they'd let him go. Their job was to protect him from Black, not let him get into a confrontation with him.
As Harry marched into the common room, he noted that they were following him. This was actually something he wanted. Having two experienced aurors at his back was much better than trying to attack Black on his own.
Still, he didn't trust them to capture Black without him.
"Where are you going?" one of the aurors asked.
"Out," Harry said shortly.
"Not supposed to be out after hours," the auror said.
Harry wasn't sure how bright he was; he could have been as dumb as a troll for all he knew. What he did know was that he had to convince him that he was going to leave.
"What, are you going to take house points?" Harry asked. "You're just here to keep me safe, not to keep me out of trouble."
"Easier to keep you safe if you aren't wandering the castle at night with a crazed killer after you." the auror pointed out.
Harry shrugged, then dashed out of the common room.
He raced out into the hallway outside. He heard them calling out for him to stop, but he didn't.
The moment he rounded the corner he ran straight up the wall; he still had the Weasley boots. He waited up above on the ceiling with his cloak held awkwardly around him. He had to hold it up to keep gravity from dropping it and showing him from below.
The aurors stopped.
One glanced at the other. "Report says he has an invisibility cloak."
The other pulled out his wand and quickly cast a spell. He glanced upward; he obviously didn't know exactly where Harry was, but he knew where we was in a general sense.
"Come on down, Mr. Potter."
Harry carefully took off his cloak and stuffed it in his bag. "I'm afraid I've got something I have to do."
"If you don't come down we'll make you come down."
"You do that and I'll fall, possibly to my death. Are you sure you can levitate me before my head cracks open on the floor like a melon?"
"We could use a cushioning charm," the auror said.
The sensation of being upside down was more unpleasant than Harry remembered. He hoped that he was never held this way by an enemy. Given his luck it was likely that he would be.
"While I'm attacking you?" Harry asked."It hardly seems like you'd have time."
"Attacking an auror is a crime," the auror said.
"Do you really want to be the one to send Harry Potter to Azkaban?" Harry asked. "What would you tell your family and friends?"
He hesitated. "What I'm doing is important, and it'll take less than an hour. After that I'll promise to go to bed."
The aurors conferred with each other in a low voice, and then one nodded. The other sent a patronus in the shape of a silvery dove flying down the hallway.
"What was that?" Harry asked sharply.
"We've heard about you," the auror said. "What you consider a walk in the park will probably need backup."
Harry nodded. More aurors were probably better anyway.
He made his way along the wall as quickly as he safely could. He couldn't really run with the suction cup shoes because one shoe had to be connected to the wall at all times.
Walking high up along the wall instead of on the ceiling at least helped him reduce the blood rushing to his head, even though walking sideways was a pain. He could at least change sides whenever his head felt too uncomfortable.
There was probably a spell to help with this sensation, yet another thing that he hadn't studied yet. He really needed o be more curious about things not related to his immediate survival.
Dawlish and Tonks joined them when he was halfway to the Gryffindor common rooms.
"Wotcher doin Harry?" Tonks asked.
"Got something I have to do," Harry said. He'd slipped the map inside a book; he opened it and checked. Black hadn't reached the Gryffindor common room yet.
He couldn't tell exactly where Black was without opening the map out all the way, but he didn't imagine it would take him too much longer.
"Why don't you just go back to bed?" she asked. "And do whatever it is in the morning."
"I can't," Harry said. He picked up his speed.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Does this have something to do with Black?"
"I'll tell you later," Harry said.
Of course, he wasn't able to move as quickly as they were, but when they came to the moving stairs he saw his chance to get ahead.
While they were waiting for the stairs to move back up he scampered up the wall. He dropped to the floor and began running, which was a relief because he hadn't been sure he could take another moment of being upside down.
By the time they caught up to him two sets of stairs later, he was already at the hall leading to the Gryffindor common room.
He had his wand out, and he was glancing in his book.
"Can you all cast disillusionment spells?" he asked as they raced up to him.
"Why?"
"Black's almost here," Harry said.
Harry pulled the map out of the book and opened it up against the wall. He heard the indrawn breath of one of the aurors behind him.
"Where did you...never mind," Tonks said. She glared at him. "We could have used that..."
"And kept it?" Harry asked. "It doesn't matter. There isn't time to get me away. Best bet is to ambush him here."
"How did you know he was coming here?" asked Tonks, her eyes narrowed.
"Perks of being the Chosen One," harry said, grinning at her.
The aurors had a quick discussion. None of them knew the password to get into the Gryffindor common room and there wasn't time to summon a teacher.
They made Harry hide under his cloak as they all cast disillusionment spells.
After that they waited.
Two minutes later, a large dog came wandering down the hallway. It looked mangy and sick, with ribs showing and an unsteady walk. Harry glanced at the folded map and his eyes widened.
The dog stopped; although the aurors were effectively invisible, it could smell them quite easily.
Ignoring what he'd been told, Harry pulled out his wand and yelled, "Stupefy!"
The dog tried to dodge, but it had been focused on the mass of aurors, not on Harry, who was further back.
It fell to the floor, seemingly lifeless.
Harry pulled off his cloak, and the aurors hissed at him.
"That's Black," Harry said.
"He's an Animagus?" Dawlish asked. "Might explain how he was able to escape and why he'd been so far to find."
The aurors reappeared and a moment later one waved his wand. A shaggy, decrepit figure of a man appeared, lying on the ground. If Harry hadn't known what he had done, he would have felt sorry for him.
A couple of other spells and the man was bound and levitating.
"We'll take it from here." Dawlish said.
Harry hesitated. "What's likely to happen to him."
"He'll be Kissed, almost certainly," Dawlish said. "If he can escape from Azkaban once, he could do it again."
"Can I ask him why he did it?"
The aurors glanced at each other then nodded. A tap of the wand and Black was suddenly conscious again.
"Why'd you do it? Why'd you betray my parents...why are you trying to kill me?"
The man stared at him as though he had no idea who he was; he glanced up at Harry's forehead and then his eyes widened.
"Wasn't coming for you. Was coming for Pettigrew. He was your parent's secret keeper and he was the one who betrayed us all."
"You killed Pettigrew," Dawlish said. "Don't try to lie. Why are you really after Potter."
"Peter Pettigrew?" Harry asked slowly.
He could see the other aurors gathering around Black, angry looks on their faces. He had an uneasy feeling that Black might not actually make it to the Ministry; he might be killed while "trying to escape."
"Pettigrew is dead," Tonks tried to assure him. "All that was found of him was a finger."
"Peter Pettigrew has been in bed with Ron Weasley for the past week," Harry said, gesturing toward the map.
Dead silence followed his proclamation.
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The many Deaths of Harry Potter by ShayneT
 Books » Harry Potter Rated: T, English, Harry P., Hermione G., Words: 242k+, Favs: 6k+, Follows: 4k+, Published: Mar 2, 2017 Updated: Jun 15, 2017 3,851Chapter 38: Court
"What's this, Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonegall was in her nightgown and scowled at the lot of them.
Harry suspected that one of the painting had alerted her that something was happening outside the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. She had barely spent the time to throw on a robe and she didn't look pleased.
"This is Sirius Black, ma'am," one of the aurors said. "And he says that Peter Pettigrew is inside with one of your students."
"He's a rat!" Black shouted. "A rat!"
The man looked positively unhinged; enraged and disheveled, it would be difficult to believe anything he said. Harry certainly wouldn't think so.
"He's obviously quite mad," McGonagall said. "Why are you listening to him?"
The aurors glanced at each other then at Harry. They knew Harry wouldn't want his map revealed, and it surprised Harry that they were leaving it up to him to reveal it.
Harry frowned. "Black is an animagus. I think he's saying that Pettigrew is in the form of a rat. Specifically Ronald Weasley's rat."
He knew Ron had a rat; Hermione had complained about it often enough. Ron had been arguing with her for weeks, claiming that the rat had been eaten by her Kneasel. The rat had vanished for a time only to turn up later much to Hermione's satisfaction.
Harry had to wonder just what Pettigrew had been doing during the time he was missing. If he really was the one who had betrayed Harry's parent;s to the Death Eaters, then he was in league with Voldemort and he'd had the run of the castle.
Being an animagus was starting to sound like a very useful skill, especially if it would enable an escape from Azkaban.
McGonagall stared at them for a long moment.
"It's important," Harry said. "A man's life hangs in the balance."
She snorted, then turned and murmured a password to the painting that guarded the Gryffindor common room. Harry strained to listen to what it was, but he couldn't hear what she had said.
Five minutes later she returned, Ronald Weasley in tow, levitating a rat.
"We'll see if there is anything to this," she said. She pointed her wand and murmured what Harry assumed was the counter spell to the animagus transformation.
She shrieked as the rat began to writhe and shift, transforming into a man.
"My heavens...it IS Pettigrew!" she cried.
Ron Weasley stared at the rat he'd had in his bed for years and he turned white as a ghost.
"Maybe you'd better call the Headmaster," Harry said.
It was a long night for everyone; Sirius Black was taken to the Ministry to be held over for trial.
Having learned that the man hadn't even had a trial the first time around before being held in Azkaban for twelve years, Harry was annoyed.
He explained to the aurors that he would be even more annoyed if the man was killed in transit or Kissed before he ever saw a courtroom in an effort to avoid embarrassment for the Ministry. Obviously the Ministry couldn't be trusted any farther than he could throw them if they wouldn't even follow their own rules.
Harry began to wonder what would happen to him if he actually killed Voldemort. Would the Ministry start thinking he was a liability and make him disappear? Maybe Voldemort wasn't his only enemy.
Even worse, his ability to reset might vanish if he actually defeated Voldemort. It was something to think about.
He almost expected to have one or the other of the men 'escape' in transit, but the next morning the Daily Prophet had headlines screaming that Black had been caught. There wasn't much about his not being the killer, though.
Harry expected there to be some sort of mock trial as a result, but Dumbledore assured him that he would do his best to get the man a real, fair trial.
He seemed surprised at Harry's cynicism. Harry had talked to the new Minister, however, and the man had seemed more concerned about the appearances of safety than actually keeping people safe.
Minister Scrimgeour had been angry at Harry for refusing to have his picture taken, and Harry suspected that if he'd stepped outside the Ministry the man would have had his picture in every paper, Death Eaters be damned.
Still, he'd gotten out of the whole thing without a detention or even any house points taken, and the aurors were removed the next day, so all in all it was a win. He'd claimed that he'd thought Black would come for him and would assume he was in Gryffindor since his parents had been. It was as good a lie as any.
He'd miss the extra training from the aurors, but he wouldn't miss having his time in the loo timed. It had made him enormously self conscious.
Harry arranged to have another meeting with Scrimgeour, and this time his meeting was taken immediately.
He explained to the man how they could blame Black's incarceration on a previous administration which Hermione had told him was headed by Millicent Bagnold, and show generosity by releasing Black.
For once, the man had listened to him instead of treating him as though he was a child with nothing valuable to say.
The gavel fell, and the crowd gasped.
Sirius Black was innocent. Testimony had been forced from Peter Pettigrew, and everything Black had said had been corroborated.
Some had still judged Black guilty, based on the idea that Pettigrew could be confunded, but the fact that Pettigrew had been living in the beds of a succession of underage boys had weighed heavily against him.
Black looked as though he didn't understand what had just happened. Harry suspected that his rage against Pettigrew had been all that had supported him throughout these long years and now that was gone there wasn't much left.
The prosecutor cleared his throat. "There are also the matters of his being an unregistered animagi, and for escaping from Azkaban."
The crowd began muttering, and Black began to look anxious again.
"Is twelve years not enough?" Dumbledore asked, standing suddenly. His voice rang out into the chamber. "An innocent man placed in the worst conditions imaginable. His escape was to protect the boy-who-lived from an admitted ally of Voldemort."
The crowd gasped at the mention of Voldemort's name.
"Protecting the Boy who lived is protecting us all, given the nature of the prophecy," Dumbledore said. "Punishing him for doing so would be a travesty of justice!"
His voice was powerful and compelling. Harry stared at the man; he hadn't realized just how powerful an orator the man could be, given his doddering old man routine at the school. He obviously knew how to play the political game as well.
"What of being an unregistered animagi?" the prosecutor asked.
"Hasn't he been punished enough?" Dumbledore asked. "Is twelve years not enough of a sentence? I say he has served his time and he should go free."
The crowd broke out into loud arguments and it was a full five minutes before order could be called.
"Are there any more witnesses?''
Harry stood. It wasn't his nature to stick his neck out for anyone without something to gain from it, but it irritated him and angered him that the Ministry had railroaded this man. It reminded him a little of being bullied during first year simply because he'd been sorted into Slytherin.
The one thing Harry was learning was that he hated bullies.
He'd been assured that there weren't going to be cameras in the courtroom, although there would be some outside. He knew how to avoid those. The real risk was in letting the members of the Wizengamot see him, since some of them were certainly Death Eaters.
However, it was only a matter of time until he was seen anyway. The Minister wanted his picture out in public so that Harry would agree to engage in propaganda for the Ministry; he'd told him as much in both of his meetings.
It had been difficult getting into the courtroom without being seen by the reporters. Harry had been forced to use every method at his disposal, most of which included his invisibility cloak and the help of auror Tonks.
"Sirius Black is my Godfather," Harry began. "The last living link I have to the parents who gave their lives for me and by extension for all of you. He tried his best to save me, and I'd ask that you do the merciful thing...the right thing and give him his freedom."
Dumbledore had coached him on the kind of things that would likely sway the members, and Harry did his best to look utterly sincere.
Harry had been tempted to imply a threat, but Dumbledore had assured him that would be a bad idea. No one threatened the Wizagamot, much less a thirteen year old boy. Harry's best bet was to look humble and contrite.
Umbridge stood. "After twelve years in Azkaban, isn't it likely that this man isn't quite sane? He may have been innocent before, but he may be a threat to the Boy-Who-Lived now even if he doesn't want to be."
She smiled in Harry's direction, although it didn't reach her eyes. "This esteemed chamber shouldn't be listening to children who don't know how to be silent when around their betters."
"Like you didn't listen to me when I told you that dementors were likely to attack and wipe out a good portion of the next generation of Britain's wizardkind?" Harry asked.
Umbridge's face turned red and she turned a look of undisguised rage toward Harry. Harry wouldn't have wanted to be in a dark alleyway with her without his wand out.
"I won't talk about who should actually be up here on trial," Harry continued. "As the esteemed Chamber has determined that some things were simply the result of incompetence rather than malice."
This made her turn an even darker red. Harry couldn't help but wonder if he continued would be be able to badger her into a heart attack. Part of him wanted to try.
However he was here for a purpose and getting sidetracked wouldn't do Black any good.
"The muggles have a saying...out of the mouths of babes," Harry said. "Sometimes a child will say things that no adult will. I am saying this...what happened to Sirius Black was an injustice. It wasn't an injustice done by this esteemed body...you never even had him brought before you. But sending him back will compound the injustice that has already been done...and that will be on your own souls."
Harry sat down, ignoring the grateful look black was giving him. He didn't know the man and wasn't sure he wanted to know him, although hearing stories about his parents from someone who was their friend instead of just a teacher did sound inviting.
Harry sat back and watched closely as the vote was called. The result would be whatever it was; he'd done his best to make sure the man got a fair trial. From what he understood, the wizarding court system was corrupt and injust. However, they liked having the appearance of being fair and impartial.
The speeches would be reported in the wizarding newspaper, and he and Dumbledore had backed them into a corner. Whatever bribes they had taken, they weren't willing for the common wizard to realize that the game was rigged.
Sure enough, the vote was for freedom, although it was closer than Harry had expected. Harry tried to take note of the men who had voted against freedom. Those were likely his enemies in one form or another.
He'd try to get a copy of the court report. If he could get a list of his enemies, things might get easier in the future. If he could cross reference them with known Death Eaters, he might even be able to learn something important.
No one might threaten the Wizangamot to their faces, but no one said Harry couldn't make them pay in the long run.
Black looked stunned, as though the very concept of freedom was more than he could understand.
Dumbledore leaned down and murmured in his ear.
It finally seemed to sink in, and the man began to smile, which made him look like more than a shell of a man. Black turned and smiled widely at Harry.
Harry smiled weakly back at the man. Dumbledore had arranged for him to be washed and groomed, but he still looked like a dog that had been starved half to death. The smile helped a little, but it would require months of good meals and good treatment to return him to a semblance of his former self.
The chains on Black were removed and he rose and walked over toward Harry. Harry resisted the urge to go for his wand' just because the man was walking a little faster than he was comfortable with didn't mean that he was coming to attack him.
"Harry...you saved me," Black said.
The man reached out to hug him, and Harry flinched.
It was an involuntary response; Harry hadn't been touched much in his life and he was uncomfortable with someone wrapping their arms around him. The other man was enough larger than he was that he wouldn't be able to defend himself if he did.
"Sorry," Harry said. "Force of habit."
He offered his hand.
Black stared at him for a moment before shaking his hand.
Harry saw a flash out of the corner of his eye and he cursed, turning. He saw a reporter rapidly moving away.
Scrimgeour looked smug. Apparently he'd given the reporter special dispensation to take photographs inside the court. It was telling that the only picture he took was over Harry shaking hands with Sirius.
Damn.
It had only been a matter of time before someone had gotten his picture. Harry had known that, but this was going to make disguising himself both harder and even more necessary in public.
"Maybe we should have done this somewhere else?" Black asked sheepishly at the look on Harry's face.
"I can't believe you thought I was shagging an adult man!" Weasley said, confronting him.
Harry shrugged. "How was I to know you weren't? For all I know Gryffindors are engaged in all kinds of weird things behind closed doors."
Beside him, Hermione stiffened.
Harry suspected that he'd pay for the comment later, but it was worth it to see Weasley's face turn red. Apparently the twins had told Ron about the map, and he'd rushed to confront Harry immediately.
"Didn't seem like any of my business," Harry said. "Besides, you'd have thought your brothers might have noticed it, considering that they had the Map for two years before I did."
"Did you have to tell the whole world that I had a grown man staring at me for the last three years?"
"Yes," Harry said. "Yes I did."
Weasley's face turned even redder. There had been speculation in the paper about what the wizard might have done to Ron and his brother.
Although Harry suspected that Pettigrew would have been too afraid of being found out to try anything, the papers brought up the point that Ron and his brother might have been obliviated, and thus not even know if anything had happened.
This thought had apparently bothered Ron enough that the twins weren't even teasing him about it, although other students weren't so careful.
"I don't think anything happened," Harry said. "Pettigrew was a coward, and they asked him under Veritaserum if he'd done anything to you. He said he hadn't."
That much hadn't made it into the paper. Apparently the Wizarding paper loved making salacious allegations without anything to back it up, just as the courts threw men in prison without evidence.
Ron stared at him, looking relieved but still angry.
"A man's life was on the line," Harry said.
Weasley didn't look completely satisfied, but he stalked off in a better mood than when he'd started.
"You really should have told someone," Hermione chided. "Someone our age shouldn't be doing anything with anyone else. It's a crime."
"If I'd told anyone, they'd have wanted to know how I knew," Harry said. "Besides, Ron didn't look particularly upset, so I thought he was OK with whatever it was."
Hermione stared at him. "There's something wrong with you, you know that?"
Harry smirked. "You're only figuring that out now? Besides, if I told about everyone I saw in a broom closet or on the astronomy tower, I wouldn't have time to get my studies done."
Hermione looked conflicted. "Do I really want to know?"
"You really don't," Harry said.
Sometimes knowledge was a burden.
Harry spent the next three months waiting for an attack that never came. Voldemort had made a habit of attacking every year, and Harry reasoned that just because someone else was suspected of attacking him didn't mean that his plans had to change.
It made him a little uncomfortable, actually. If Voldemort wasn't attacking him, what was he doing. Was he building up an army in secret, planning attacks, regaining a body?
The man was working from the shadows, and Harry had no way of knowing what was going to happen next.
One good thing to come of everything was that Black started sending him letters. Harry was happy to see them, after he learned a number of detection spells to check for curses. Sending a letter supposedly from one person would be a good way to kill, assuming a deadly curse or poison was in the letter or on the envelope.
Black was apparently in the care of Dumbledore's organization. He was being treated by a Squib psychologist; apparently his time in Azkaban had given him a severe case of post traumatic stress, as had things he'd been forced to do in the war.
He was getting the care he needed, and he would share a story from his time with Harry's parents each time he sent a letter. Harry soon found himself looking forward to the weekly letters despite the effort it took to check them for traps.
Although he'd told Black that he wouldn't go and live with him until the blood wards on his aunt and uncle's home failed, he did leave open the possibility of living with him later. He encouraged him to get better quickly.
It seemed like no time at all before the term was over and he was heading home.
He'd hardly died at all this year, and he felt this was a massive improvement over previous years. The stronger he got, the harder he was to kill. Maybe he would become Voldemort's equal and then hardly anyone would be able to kill him.
All he could hope for was that the next year was uneventful.
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The many Deaths of Harry Potter by ShayneT
 Books » Harry Potter Rated: T, English, Harry P., Hermione G., Words: 242k+, Favs: 6k+, Follows: 4k+, Published: Mar 2, 2017 Updated: Jun 15, 2017 3,851Chapter 39: Quidditch II
As Harry stepped through the fireplace, he scowled.
The first three years he'd been going to school he'd had to go through a great deal of trouble to conceal what city he was coming from; he'd taken buses, the subway and the Knight bus, putting himself in all kinds of danger and stress.
He'd actually been killed once that way.
If he'd known that Arabella Figg had a floo connection, that she was one of Dumbledore's agents, he'd have skipped all the stress and danger involved in all of it.
His connection with Sirius Black was already paying dividends. It was Black who had told him about Figg in an effort to get him to spend time with him. Apparently they were comrades from the war.
He still couldn't believe that Sirius had convinced him to come. He enjoyed Quidditch, but seeing a professional match wasn't on his particular wish list.
However, Sirius had waxed poetic about it in his letters over the summer, painting a picture that Harry had found himself growing more and more enthusiastic about. Summers had previously been a relief from the constant terror of Hogwarts, but now that he was becoming more confident in his ability not to die, they were actually becoming boring.
He found himself missing the excitement of school, and missing his friends.
Getting the permission of the Dursleys for him to leave for two days hadn't been difficult; Harry had a feeling they were going to celebrate his being gone. At least they weren't actively trying to make his life more unhappy they way they had before he'd learned he was a wizard.
He'd let them know a little of the things he'd done over the year; partially to tell them about how terrible Hogwarts could be and partially to remind them of just how dangerous he was getting. He wanted them to know that staying on his side would help him stay on theirs in the years to come.
Even Dudley was coming around; Harry made sure to buy a load of Wizarding candy and dole it out to his cousin in secret while telling him stories about Hogwarts that he didn't tell his aunt and uncle. Dudley still was a jerk to him sometime, but Harry had made sure the candy was locked away in a box that Dudley wouldn't be able to get into no matter how hard he tried.
It was a little like training a dog; candy when he was good and nothing when he was bad. He reminded Dudley that if he complained to his parents they'd make him throw all the magical candy out and there would be no more ever again.
It was surprisingly effective.
As Harry stepped out into a dusty house, he saw Sirius Black waiting for him, wand outstretched.
"Who are you?" Black asked suspiciously.
"You asked me to come," Harry said, using his own voice. He'd been practicing doing other voices, but he didn't think he was very good at it.
"Harry?" Black asked. "I wouldn't have recognized you."
The man lowered his wand and Harry relaxed. He'd been afraid that he'd have to pull his own wand, which he was holding inside his robe.
"That's the point," Harry said. "You'll have to change too."
Sirius Black accompanying a boy Harry's age would be a dead giveaway. Harry had been reluctant to go at first, but Black had assured him that no one outside of Dumbledore's people had any idea they were going.
He'd purchased the tickets under an assumed name and they were going to be anonymous.
"What do you have in Mind?" Black asked.
Harry pulled out the Weasley's hairbrush. He had a few ideas, although he wasn't sure how the older man was going to feel about them.
"Let's see what we can do."
"An effective disguise requires some compromises," Harry said. He grinned. The fact that he himself now had Weasley red hair and sunglasses was a case in point.
Sirius looked at him sourly, "You had to make me look like bloody Winston Churchill?"
"You don't look like Churchill," Harry reassured him. "I'm sure there are a lot of fat, balding men out there who aren't Churchill."
"I'm never going to get a bird like this," Sirius said.
"You can deal with it for a couple of days," Harry said. "People will be expecting a rail thin man with wild hair. This is as far the opposite as I could get."
It involved more transfiguration than Harry himself could handle. However, Sirius was apparently very good at transfiguration. It was apparently a requirement to become an animagus.
"All right," Sirius sighed. "Let's go."
Apparently they were going to floo to a business in Diagon Alley that was hosting a variety of staggered portkeys. It was too dangerous to have everyone apparating in at once.
Harry and Sirius stepped through the fireplace and emerged into Diagon Alley. They walked quickly, although Harry had to remind Sirius again how to walk like a fat man.
Apparently there weren't many fat wizards, and Sirius hadn't been around fat people very much. He was a fairly good mimic, however. From his stories, he and Harry's father had seemed to be like the Weasleys; pranksters with a mild bullying streak.
Harry didn't care for bullies, but Sirius seemed so earnest that it was hard to take him as being like the people who had tormented Harry in his first year.
Sirius began to walk more like a hefty man; it was somewhat exaggerated, and Harry wondered if Sirius was a bit of a ham.
That was confirmed when they reached the business. Sirius started speaking with a bad Liverpudlian accent, and Harry almost groaned. The point was to not stand out.
"Lawrence White, old man, here with my son Patrick," Sirius said. ""We're here for the ten o'clock."
People from Liverpool didn't even talk like that? Harry stared at the shopkeeper, waiting for him to say something, but the man barely even looked at them. He waved them through to a room where there was a number of old, dirty items.
They had to touch a rusty old tin can, and Harry found himself wondering if he'd catch tetanus. It'd be humiliating to reset because of something so stupid.
They touched the can at the appointed time, and Harry suddenly remembered why he hated wizarding methods of travel. If he could only figure out something more comfortable he was sure he could make a fortune. He'd be richer than Malfoy.
They ended up in a field in front of a pair of wizards who looked exhausted.
"You White and his boy?" one of the wizards asked disinterestedly.
Sirius nodded.
Harry hoped he didn't go into the accent again.
Sirius glanced at him and his lips twitched. Apparently the accent had been a little prank played on harry himself.
"You need to get moving; we've got more coming in five minutes."
They were directed to a cottage a half mile away. Whatever had been left of the morning fog was rapidly burning away in the morning sun and they could see the cottage long before they reached it.
Sirius proved to be adept at handling Muggle money, which surprised Harry even though it shouldn't have. The man had bragged about having a magical motorcyle in one of his letters.
"Why use a muggle?" Harry asked.
"He owns the property," Sirius shrugged. "They keep having to obliviate him."
"They should have made him think he'd won a trip and used a Squib for this," Harry said. "I'm sure Filch wouldn't mind the extra income."
Of course, Filch probably wasn't the face the championship wanted to present to wizards who were essentially out on holiday. Harry imagined that there had to be squibs out there who could act cheerful, somewhere.
As they made their way toward the rows of tents, Harry saw that he hadn't needed to worry. Apparently wizards on holiday dressed even more insanely than they did in Diagon Alley. He could have dressed Sirius in a feathered headdress and no one would have likely noticed.
Harry wondered if he should have convinced Sirius to bring Hermione and Neville, but he decided it was probably better that he hadn't. The man was wanting to improve their relationship and being part of a crowd wouldn't do that.
Besides, disguising four people was much harder than disguising two.
"I paid extra to get a good spot," Sirius said. "Close to where the action is. We'll have to put the tent up without magic...there are too many muggles around to let us do it the normal way."
Harry had never been camping in his life; his one night in the Forbidden forest was the closest he'd ever been. Fortunately, Sirius seemed to know his way around a tent, and he instructed Harry in how to put the tent up while talking about a time he'd gone camping in Bulgaria with Harry's parents and his other friends.
Apparently Pettigrew had been there too...every time a part of the story would come that involved him, Sirius would suddenly stop and look distant before moving on.
Pettigrew had been Kissed shortly after Sirius had been released. Harry couldn't imagine what it would have been like to have someone who had once been a friend betray you and then have their soul devoured. It would have to lead to mixed feelings.
The inside of the tent was larger than the outside; Harry was thrilled to see that it had its' own loo and other modern amenities. It was a rental, apparently, so Sirius asked him not to destroy anything he didn't have to.
He'd been afraid they'd be sleeping inside something like a muggle tent, and he hadn't looked forward to being uncomfortable. Hogwarts had spoiled him. There had been a time where he wouldn't have thought anything of sleeping on a hard floor in a cupboard with the spiders.
"We'll cook on a fire outdoors, cook marshmallows...it'll be like old times," Sirius said. His grin seemed a little forced, but Harry thought that was probably because they hadn't really spent much time together and he wanted to leave a good impression.
The truth was, Harry was already having more fun than he'd had in ages. This wasn't something he had to do, like going to school, and it wasn't something for survival. It was the only vacation he'd ever taken, and everything was novel and new.
He could still smell the scents of cooking outside; breakfast was long past over, but some people were beginning on early lunch.
"We can get some food from one of the stands," said Sirious. "Who wants to cook on a day like today?"
Harry agreed. He was excited to see the sights.
When Sirius gestured for them to go, Harry pulled out his wand and began to gesture with it and mutter under his breath. Sirius watched him for a moment before speaking.
"What are you doing?"
"Alarm spells," Harry said. "To see if anyone tampers with things while we are gone. I'd hate to come back and find someone waiting for me."
"You worry too much," Sirius said. "Nobody knows we are here?"
"I've got a price on my head," Harry said. "Ten thousand galleons. They really ought to raise it, because I plan on making anybody who tries to catch me earn every last knut of it."
Harry doubted that he'd be able to duel an adult wizard who was in practice in a fair fight, but he had no intention of ever getting into a fair fight if he could avoid it.
"Let's go," he said.
They left the tend and walked along the path, seeing wizards with small children sitting outside and tending fires. Even smaller children raced around, chasing each other. Harry wouldn't have realized they weren't muggle children except for the outlandish clothing some of them wore.
As they walked, Harry occasionally saw people he recognized from school. He made an effort not to stiffen or in any way give away the fact that he recognized them. A good portion of disguise was attitude.
Seeing the Weasleys gathered outside a tent at the end of the block of tents they were on was disturbing. Outside the Slytherins, the Weasley twins probably knew him better than anyone outside of Hermione and Neville.
He'd disguised his appearance, but not his voice.
"That's the Weasleys," Harry said. "They know me...let's stay away from them."
"How Slytherin of you," Sirius said.
Harry shrugged. "They know my voice."
Sirius nodded, and they made their way past toward the food stalls and other stalls before reaching the field.
"It was amazing!" Harry said.
He'd loved everything...the Veelas, the strange, exotic foods, the gimracks and gadgets and other things sold.
Excitement permeated everything; and the roar of the crowd made Harry forget that he was under the threat of death. He forgot about survival and about worrying and about his plans for the future.
For the space of a few hours he was able to live in the moment and that was something that was unique and precious.
He hadn't even really cared about which team won, although Sirius apparently favored the Irish.
His face was still flushed at their win and he was grinning like mad. His enthusiasm was infectious. Harry couldn't help but grin with him, and it felt great to have a grin that didn't involve prevarication or thinking about what it meant.
Harry was wearing a pair of omnioculars and a large green Irish hat. He had a large foam finger that had apparently been imported from America and a number of other gadgets and devices that Sirius had insisted on buying him.
They were each chewing on a shepherd's pie that was actually portable; it had been enchanted not to fall apart into a mass of mashed potatoes and meat after the first bite.
Harry has drinking butterbeer from a mug that was enchanted to stay frosty for at least an hour; Sirius had offered to let him try firewhisky, but Harry had refused.
For all the fun he was having, he didn't want anything that would slow his reactions or impair his judgment.
"There's nothing better than Quidditch!" Sirius said. "It's too bad you never got a chance to play.
Harry shrugged. "Slytherin politics...you know."
"You're the first Slytherin I've ever actually liked," Sirius said.
Grinning Harry lifted his mug and said, "I'm the first Slytherin I ever liked too."
He hadn't talked to Sirius about Adrian and Colin. Even after all this time it still bothered him enough that he didn't want to face it in any sort of a meaningful way.
If he ever got to a time where it didn't bother him that he'd failed to save people he cared about, he suspected that he really would have become the next dark lord.
On Harry's insistence, they'd waited in the stands as the crowd cleared out; the last thing he wanted to be was in the middle of a crowd of strangers. It would be too easy to get a knife to the ribs. Besides, it was nice getting to simply sit and talk and enjoy the night air.
Now they were able to stroll at their leisure with only a few stragglers around them.
"Watching them reminds me of my glory days," Sirius said. "Back when me and your dad played. We were good...if it wasn't for the war I think your dad might have gone pro. He was the best chaser I'd seen, at least before I went to my last world Quidditch cup."
Sirius loved to talk about the old days, probably because they were all he had. His time in Azkaban had left his life on hold and there wasn't much point in talking about twelve years in a dark room being tormented by dementors while planning on murdering your former friend.
Harry saw the Weasley camp; he was reminded again of how many children they had. He wondered what it would have been like to be part of a family that large.
The Weasleys were approaching their tent when the sounds of the first explosion went off. In the distance Harry could see a fireball as a distant tent went up in flames.
That was followed by a second tent and a third.
Harry's mind raced. He had noticed numerous people he'd taken note of in the Wizengamot in the audience and even more people dressed in Ministry robes. Everyone who was everyone was here.
"They're targeting the Ministry," Harry said.
He pulled out his wand and with a gesture removed the disguise that had covered him; at least the magical parts.
He began racing toward the Weasley tent; they were milling around outside the tent.
He'd been told that the Weasley twins' father was in the Ministry...something to do with Muggles. Harry suspected that Voldemort's people had probably booby trapped the tents of people suspected of being muggle sympathizers.
It would serve a dual purpose; first if they killed off enough muggle sympathizers and replaced them with their own people the balance of power in the government might shift. Furthermore, attacking them here would help intimidate those who escaped being killed.
Harry saw one of the Weasleys about to go into the tent. It was the oldest of them, probably the father.
He put his wand to his throat and said, "THE TENTS ARE TRAPPED! STAY OUT OF THE TENTS! VOLDEMORT IS TARGETING THE MINISTRY!"
The oldest Weasley stopped and turned, staring at him. The twins seemed to recognize him, because they stopped him with urgent words.
In the distance he could hear the sounds of other explosions.
Harry heard the sound of apparition all around him; apparently he had been heard and people were coming for him.
He should have known. They'd have troops on the ground to attack members of the Ministry who'd escaped the traps.
Harry grimaced.
This was going to hurt.
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