Chapter 6: Fire Meet Gasoline
Grimmauld Place, September 1st 1995
A month has gone quickly, and now the house feels empty. The teenagers have left towards Hogwarts this morning, and the Weasleys have moved back to their home. It is finally quiet in Grimmauld Place.
Even though I've tried to stay away from everyone for the past month, I haven't really managed to avoid entirely the collection of other inhabitants and the various people who have gathered here for the Order meetings or simply for dinner. While I haven't seen Severus since the meeting in the beginning of last month, I have been acquainted with Weasleys' eldest son William and my cousin Nymphadora, who have both visited Grimmauld place almost every day.
Not every member of the Order has been as eager to engage into a conversation with me as some have. Perhaps they remember who I was. Perhaps they have their doubts about my sincerity.
My thoughts are interrupted as my cousin Nymphadora steps into the library, where I am currently researching.
"Here's my favourite cousin!" She calls. I turn to look at her direction and see my brother and the werewolf following her. So much for the peace and quiet.
"Hey!" My brother says and stops in midstride. "I thought I was your favourite cousin?" He says to Nymphadora with a mock hurt look on his face.
The werewolf rolls his eyes while Nymphadora shrugs innocently and walks towards me, snatches the book from my hands and plops down next to me on the sofa.
"What are you reading?" She asks as she props her feet on the table and starts to browse the book while I grit my teeth together. "Oh, Merlin this looks boring." She mutters.
"And how are you today, dear Nymphadora?" I ask snidely, with every intention to annoy her since she has the audacity to interrupt my tranquillity.
Sirius chuckles as he and Lupin sit down in the armchairs opposite us.
Nymphadora sends a scowl at me, but eventually her lips turn into a sly smile as she hands my book back. "Just came to see if you're up for a little duel," She says mischievously.
"What?" I ask with confusion.
"You do know what a duel is, little brother?" Sirius quips with a knowing smile and my nostrils flare. I've always been younger than him, sure, but now even more so. And he doesn't hesitate to remind me about that little detail.
"Belt up," I say to him and give him a bored look, even though the suggestion of a duel sounds intriguing.
Nymphadora eyes our banter with amusement. "So?" She says and nudges me. "You up for it? Sirius's been boasting about finishing you off all morning," She says with a devious smirk. I know she's trying to bait me into it. How in the hell was that woman not in Slytherin?
I arch a brow at my brother. "Not bloody likely." I say with a scoff.
"Oh, come on, brother. It's just a small, friendly sporting competition," My brother says with a huge grin. "You have to practice with your new wand," He says shrewdly.
I roll my eyes. "I can practice fine on my own," I mutter, and my brother looks contemplative.
"Okay. I mean, I understand if you feel intimidated to duel me. I have several years on you," He says slyly, probably knowing already that I'll cave in. It's not like I'd let my brother go on by thinking that he could best me in a wizard's duel.
"Fine." I grumble and put my book on the table. Nymphadora and Sirius exchange knowing smirks. Brilliant. I've been tricked by a Gryffindor and a Hufflepuff.
"Stupefy!" My brother yells, and I dodge his spell with ease. I respond with a Full Body-Bind Curse and follow it up with a Knockback Jinx. Sirius deflects the first and dodges the other, all the while sending a trip jinx at me, followed by a stinging hex.
"Fuck!" I hiss as I take both spells and stumble, but manage to keep my footing and avoid his next hex. I have to give it to him – he's fast.
Sirius barks a laugh. "Oh, brother. You didn't think I'd forget how you play?" He asks tauntingly.
The git. I send a couple of mild hexes towards him while I adjust my stance and think about my next move.
We're still in the library, as it is the most spacious room in our house. We've made enough room on the floor and warded the bookshelves and furniture. No need to make a mess. Needless to say, we've done this before, when we were younger. Before my brother ran away from home.
Lupin and Nymphadora watch our duel with a mix of amusement and interest. My brother and I continue sending hexes, jinxes and mild curses towards each other while deflecting and dodging what the other sends forward.
A half an hour later we're both sweating, exhausted, and slower in our moves. I manage to hit Sirius with a spell I've been wanting to test and for a moment, my brother is staring at me in confusion until he begins to shift in front of me.
Both Lupin and Nymphadora snort as they realise what is happening, while I eye the black dog in front of me a bit smugly. I flick my wand and retrieve my brother's wand from the floor. "Now who's finished who off?" I ask with a self-satisfied smile.
My smile falters as the dog starts to approach me slowly, carefully, its grey eyes glinting threateningly. The dog bares its teeth and lets out a low growl.
"Sirius?" I ask hesitantly and take a step back. "You can shift back now." I say, and the dog growls again. I'm beginning to feel a bit nervous. He is still my brother, right? He understands what I'm saying, right? I mean, I haven't really faced him like this before. I only learned about him being an animagus a couple of weeks ago, but didn't really confront him about it. And now I'm starting to regret that…Fuck!
I take another step back, and then the dog charges towards me. I scream – because, hell, I fucking bear-like dog is attacking me and I don't know if it's going to eat me slowly or just kill me – and I don't even have time to repel the beast with a spell before it has knocked me on the floor and my wrist is between its sharp teeth. The dog sits on the top of my chest and growls.
"Sirius," I groan under the dog's heavy weight and grab it by the scruff of its neck with my other hand. "Let go of me," I pant with a warning tone.
The dog narrows its eyes at me, its jaws tightening around my wrist, and lets out another growl. My wrist stings like hell. And then I know my brother understands me. I know what he wants me to say.
"Ouch! Fuck," I wheeze. "Fine. You win, you fucking arsehole," I grit between my teeth, and instantly the dog lets go and swifts back to my brother.
"Oh, thanks Reggie," Sirius says and grins at me, still sitting on top of me while he takes his wand from my hand.
I shove him hard. "Now get the fuck away from me," I hiss at him, and he finally stands up, laughing, and holds out his hand for me.
I narrow my eyes at him but stand up with his help. Nymphadora and Lupin are shaking with laughter, and I send an angry glare towards them.
"I can't even begin to understand how you think of that as a win," I grumble as I go to the sofa and sit down, feeling quite exhausted.
Sirius barks a laugh and comes to sit next to me. He puts his arm over my shoulder and pulls me closer. "Aww, Reggie, I love it when you're all angry and broody. Not to even mention how I've missed your girlish screaming."
I wrench myself away from his grasp. "Fuck off." I mutter, and Sirius merely grins at me.
"Okay, if you children have had enough fun, I'd like to have a round with this handsome man here," Nymphadora says and winks at Lupin. The werewolf seems a bit uncomfortable, and I notice my brother stare at his friend with a knowing smirk.
"Um. Sure, why not." Lupin mutters and they take their places in the middle of the room.
They duel for a while, and I have to say, the werewolf is clearly better but for some reason, he doesn't put enough effort into the duel. It seems that he's going to let my cousin win. I assume there's something going between them, or, well, perhaps the guy is just a wimp. My cousin eventually wins and narrows her eyes at Lupin, probably knowing he's been terrible in purpose.
We eat dinner together and then Nymphadora and Lupin are off into a mission, to follow a lead they have on one of the suspected Death Eaters.
Grimmauld Place, September 7th 1995
I wake up with a jolt, feeling quite overwrought. "Ah, shit," I gasp, as every muscle in my body twinges with sharp pain. It feels like someone is trying to slice my left arm in half. What the hell has happened to me?
And then I remember. The Horcrux. A collection of memories rush into my mind; an apparition into a forest in the countryside; dark curses soaring in the air, all repelled by the locket; whispers in my head and my arm burning in pain. Evidently, it clearly was a fruitless trip. If I hadn't been able to call Kreacher to take me home, it could've ended worse than it did.
I am still alive. And it hurts like hell. I groan and force my eyes open.
"Take it easy, Reggie," Sirius murmurs next to me, an anxious look on his face. He's sitting in a chair next to my bed where I'm currently situated, chewing the fingernails of his right hand while his eyes are studying me carefully. I glance towards the windows – it's dark outside, and I have no idea how long I have been unconscious.
"What day is it?" I grunt and close my eyes briefly when my head stings with pain. "What happened? I need a Pain Relief Potion," I mutter, trying to ignore the soon to be raging headache and the aching in my body – in my arm, to be more specific.
I can feel a wave of a diagnostic charm float over me and I give my left arm – which is resting on top of the blanket – a small glance. The mark is visible, but it looks like nothing I've seen before. The skin surrounding the Mark is burned severely, and it looks like it will take a lot of time and effort to heal it. Apparently, the Horcrux recognises a Mark of the Dark Lord. Or the other way around. A slight miscalculation on my part.
Sirius glares at me. "You tell me, brother," He says sharply and nods pointedly at my arm before he flicks his wand and summons a vial of something. "I mean, you take off without telling me and then come back barely breathing, covered in blood and mud," Sirius continues angrily. "What the hell were you up to, Reggie? What happened?"
"No idea," I say quietly and look away. I want to pull my arm away from his scrutinising stare, under the covers, but I can't move a muscle.
Sirius lets out a frustrated sigh and rubs the bridge of his nose. "Knew you'd say that…" He says with a bitter tone. He tosses the vial on the bed, close to my injured arm. "Pain Relief. You'll live, brother," He says dryly.
My lips quirk up involuntarily, but the amusement I feel fades when I reach for the vial. I grit my teeth and try to move only the other half of my body, since that side doesn't feel like someone is carving my skin with a blunt knife. It feels only slightly less horrible. I let out a loud huff of breath, laced with swearwords and finally manage to crab the vial.
Sirius eyes my ministrations with interest. "Need a hand?" He asks simply, and I want to throw something at him.
"Wanker," I grunt when I manage to uncork the vial and toss it down. I wait a few minutes and we're both silent. My headache dissolves but the pain in my arm seems more intense. I'm breathing heavily now, trying to ease the pain by staying calm, trying to mentally push the pain away.
"Why the fuck isn't it working?" I hiss at my brother.
Sirius frowns, seeming slightly worried. "It should…" he says, evidently trying to figure out what to do. "Perhaps Dumbledore could – "
"No." I grit through my teeth and give him a hard look. The last thing I want is to get my old Headmaster involved, to ask me questions I cannot answer. If Dumbledore is not yet aware of what I've been up to, then I'd like to keep it that way. "I wouldn't want to bother him. Besides, I assume the pain will ease once my arm is healed," I say resignedly and close my eyes for a bit. It fucking hurts.
My brother gives me a suspicious look. "Reggie…Either you tell me now what you were doing, or I'll floo him," he says steadily, a satisfied glint in his eyes, supposedly knowing I have no choice if I want to keep Dumbledore out of this.
Even if he seems like a carefree drunk at times, apparently, he can still pull the Black arrogance and perseverance when necessary.
I let out a weary sigh. "I was trying to get rid of it," I say stiffly, glancing at my arm, the mark and the blackened skin surrounding it.
Sirius blinks a few times, staring at me with a scrutinising look, evidently trying to decide if I am lying or not. He knows me so well, but I suppose the damage in my arm makes him believe me when he eventually nods and casts his eyes down, to my relief. It is too dangerous for him to know. For anyone to know.
Sirius clears his throat. "Yeah, you're right. About healing your arm," he says a bit uncomfortably and takes a small jar from my bedside table. He's looking unsure.
"What is it?" I grit out, my body shuddering slightly from the pain I'm experiencing.
Sirius cringes. "This ought to help. But it will hurt like a son of a bitch," He says and eyes me closely.
"Give it," I grunt and hold my hand for him – the one not burning with searing agony.
He doesn't give me the jar, but instead gives me a grave look. "Hold on," he says tightly.
When his fingers touch the marred skin of my arm, I let out a gut-wrenching scream. My breath is stolen from my lungs as the pain fills every corner of my body and mind. My body tremors but I will myself to stay still while my brother quickly applies the healing salve to my arm. To be honest, I can't really pay attention to him, other than to hope that every second of the torture will be the last.
Finally, he leans back and lets out a puff of breath, and the last thing I can see is concern edged into his face before I slip into unconsciousness again.
Grimmauld Place, September 9th 1995
The next day I'm feeling considerably better and I'm grateful that my brother hasn't contacted anyone. He asks me about the night before, why did I do it, but I tell him to mind his own business. Grudgingly, he lets me be and orders Kreacher to take care of me.
On Saturday morning, I drag myself downstairs, bleary eyed after a rather sleepless night. I haven't still fully recovered but I'm getting there. I need to keep going, and I need to get out of my room.
Lupin and Nymphadora haven't been here after the first of September, and apart from my slight accident two days prior, I haven't really seen Sirius as he tends to sleep the days and stay up at nights. I suppose he feels bitter since his friends are away, doing something for the Order while he's staying in the background, watching everyone, but not being able to participate.
I open the door to the kitchen, and I'm quite taken aback when I see my brother there, at the stove, flicking his wand over the pots and pans, dressed only in his pyjama bottoms. It is not ten yet, and he's there, wide awake, sipping coffee and making breakfast. Which is quite unexpected.
"Um. Morning," I mumble and stand in place, wondering where Kreacher is.
He turns to look me and flashes a quick grin. "Well, good morning, Reggie. Coffee?" He asks, and hands me a cup.
I murmur my thanks and sit down with my coffee while he goes back to his ministrations. I clear my throat. "Why are you here? Where's Kreacher?" I ask, and I find myself unable to tear my gaze away from his bare back, which is covered by scars and tattoos.
He shrugs. "Sent him into an errand. And why wouldn't I be? It is my home." He says indifferently, as if he's been here every morning.
After a moment, my brother levitates the food to the table before sitting across me.
"Okay then. Care to put on some clothes?" I ask and look at his bare chest pointedly. More tattoos, more scars. The sight is somewhat unnerving.
He arches a brow. "Nope," he simply says, and inspects a parchment he's picked up from the table.
I sigh inwardly. "What's that?" I ask as I sip my coffee. I wonder if someone from the Order has written to him. I'm slightly interested to hear what is happening in the outside world, since the Daily Prophet Sirius has subscribed to, cannot exactly be trusted.
"A letter." Sirius says absently, not looking at me.
I roll my eyes. "I'm aware. Who's it from?" I patiently ask. God, my brother can be annoying, even as an adult.
He sets the letter down, his brows turned into a frown. "From Harry…" He mutters and rubs his temple. "His scar's been hurting again…" he says and I stare back in bewilderment.
"His what?" I ask, annoyed by his vagueness.
He finally looks at me and clears his throat. "The scar on his forehead, the one Voldemort gave him when he tried to kill Harry," He says darkly, and I vaguely remember having seen a glimpse of it.
I nod, my mind whirling. "So…he's connected to the Dark Lord?" I ask, and Sirius blanches.
"What?" He asks sharply. "Why would you say that?" He demands.
I shrug. "Just a thought." Which, based on the look on my brother's face, is correct.
Sirius looks contemplative. He shakes his head slowly. "They are connected. Dumbledore's not sure how deeply, but even Harry knows there's some sort of connection. His scar has hurt before and he's seen some visions, about Voldemort's doings, and…" He trails off, letting out frustrated sigh. "I just…I don't know what to do," He says harshly, looking a bit lost.
I get that he is worried about Potter. I mean, the boy hasn't exactly had it easy. Not only does Potter share a connection with the Dark Lord but he has also fought against the man, duelled him in front of a dozen Death Eaters, before even reaching the age of fifteen. But I'm only now realising how much my brother cares for him.
I try to wrap my head around the whole situation, the link between Potter and the Dark Lord, the possibilities and the threats it could entail.
"I don't know what to say, brother. Is it only hurting now or is he seeing something? Are Potter's visions even trustworthy? If there's a connection between him and the Dark Lord, who's to say his mind is not being altered or controlled?" I ask after a thoughtful silence.
If that would be the case, then we'd all be screwed. If the Dark Lord controls Potter, he could finish us off quickly, seeing as Potter has lived in the Headquarters of the Order, and heard at least some of the confidential information.
Sirius shakes his head. "I dunno…" He says and stares into distance, worry edged into his eyes.
"Well, you can't really owl him back, you know? If the Ministry is in denial, and the Ministry Witch is there to make sure Dumbledore doesn't go campaigning about the resurrection of the Dark Lord, we can assume they are scanning the letters in and out of the school," I say pointedly. "You should think of another way – perhaps you could inform someone in the Order?" I ask and take a piece of toast from the plate my brother has brought to the table.
Sirius's eyes widen slightly as he looks at me. "You're right, Reggie! I can't owl him, but I can floo him!" He says excitedly, leaping out of his seat.
I give him an incredulous look. Was that how my brother interpreted my advice?
"Brother," I try to caution him, but he is busy hurrying away from the kitchen, not paying attention to me.
"Fuck." I grumble and try to assess the situation. A notorious mass murderer and an escaped convict flooing Hogwarts in the middle of the day? Not the most sensible plan, I'd say.
"Sirius!" I yell and dash after him.
In the evening, I sit on our drawing room sofa, absently reading a book while my brother crouches on the rug in front of the fireplace and keeps popping his head into the flames, trying to connect to the floo in Potter's common room in Hogwarts.
I watch him murmur a string of curses and shake my head in bewilderment. That fucking idiot is going to get caught soon.
As if knowing what I'm thinking, my brother turns back to look at me over his shoulder. "I'm only checking the common room for a couple of seconds each time. No one is going to see me," he says with an insisting voice.
I roll my eyes and turn a page. "Wouldn't be so sure of that…" I mutter.
Sirius huffs and after a while, he tries flooing again.
"I was starting to think you'd go to bed before everyone else had disappeared," Sirius suddenly speaks, his head in the flames.
I assume he's managed to catch Potter alone in the Gryffindor tower.
"I've been checking every hour." Sirius continues after a moment.
I can't hear anything from the other side, but I see my brother listening intently and then speaking with an amused voice, "Just for a few seconds to check if the coast was clear."
Yes, well. It is a way to spend one's day.
There's another short silence before my brother speaks, "Well, I think a girl - first-year, by the look of her - might've got a glimpse of me earlier, but don't worry," he says hastily, "I was gone the moment she looked back at me and I'll bet she just thought I was an oddly-shaped log or something." He says and chuckles.
"You sound like Molly," my brother says with a hint of annoyance. "This was the only way I could come up with of answering Harry's letter without resorting to a code - and codes are breakable," He says matter-of-factly.
Oh, so Potter's not alone in the other end. Perhaps the redhead and the Muggleborn witch are with him? The discussion in the fireplace continues.
"No, it was very good," my brother says, and I can hear a smile in his voice. "Anyway, we'd better be quick, just in case we're disturbed - your scar," He says more seriously, and I listen attentively.
I'm curious to learn more about the connection between Potter and the Dark Lord – and I have a feeling that my brother hasn't told me everything he knows before.
"Well, I know it can't be fun when it hurts, but we don't think it's anything to really worry about. It kept aching all last year, didn't it?" Sirius says.
I give him a scrutinising look. Sirius had contacted Lupin about the scar right after breakfast, and even though they were both suspecting something, my brother has apparently decided not to alarm the boy by his thoughts.
"Well, now that he's back it's bound to hurt more often," my brother says softly.
"I doubt it," Sirius continues after a short silence, and I can see him grimacing into the flames. "I know her by reputation and I'm sure she's no Death Eater –"
I wonder whom are they talking about? The Ministry hag?
Sirius lets out a weary sigh. "Yes, but the world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters," he says prudently. "I know she's a nasty piece of work, though — you should hear Remus talk about her," he says, and I can hear the bitterness in his voice.
"No," Sirius says into the flames, "but she drafted a bit of anti-werewolf legislation two years ago that makes it almost impossible for him to get a job."
Yep, talking about the Ministry hag. I've heard my brother and some members of the Order rant about the witch once or twice during the past month.
"Scared of them, I expect," my brother says amusedly. "Apparently, she loathes part-humans. She campaigned to have Merpeople rounded up and tagged last year, too. Imagine wasting your time and energy persecuting Merpeople when there are little toerags like Kreacher on the loose," he says with a wry voice.
I narrow my eyes at him and Sirius waves a hand at me, as if to brush away the subject, not even glancing at me. Wanker. It isn't a secret that there is a great difference in our opinions when it comes to Kreacher.
"So, what are Umbridge's lessons like?" Sirius asks suddenly. "Is she training you all to kill half-breeds?" He says, and I supress a snort.
"Ah, well, that figures," my brother says with a contemplative look. "Our information from inside the Ministry is that Fudge doesn't want you trained in combat."
Even though I suspect the Order has not disclosed the most crucial matters to me in the meetings, I've heard of this one. At the end of last month Fudge created a bunch of new laws to make improvements in Hogwarts, laws that allow him to select an appropriate person for a teaching post if Dumbledore is unable to provide one.
"That's exactly what he thinks you're doing," Sirius says quickly, "or, rather, that's exactly what he's afraid Dumbledore's doing - forming his own private army, with which he will be able to take on the Ministry of Magic."
Yes. That is our Minister…
My brother is listening again before he speaks. "Yep. Fudge thinks Dumbledore will stop at nothing to seize power. He's getting more paranoid about Dumbledore by the day. It's a matter of time before he has Dumbledore arrested on some trumped-up charge." He says dryly.
"I don't know," Sirius says after a short silence. "I haven't seen anyone from the Order all weekend, they're all busy. It's just me here," He says, and I arch an incredulous brow at his back.
What am I? Thin air? In the midst of my annoyance I still hear the note of bitterness in Sirius's voice.
"Ah…" Sirius mutters, a bit uncomfortably. "Well, he was supposed to be back by now, no one's sure what's happened to him." He says, and I wonder whom is he talking about. "But Dumbledore's not worried, so don't you three get yourselves in a state; I'm sure Hagrid's fine." He says quickly.
So…the half-giant is missing? This is turning out to be quite an informative floocall.
"Madame Maxime was with him, we've been in touch with her and she says they got separated on the journey home - but there's nothing to suggest he's hurt or - well, nothing to suggest he's not perfectly okay," Sirius says with a reassuring voice.
I frown at him. I'm trying to figure out if he is lying to them or not. I understand the need to mellow the news to the kids, especially when they cannot do anything. Still…what I can gather from my brother's behaviour, he is worried about Hagrid's whereabouts.
"Listen, don't go asking too many questions about Hagrid," my brother says hastily, "it'll just draw even more attention to the fact that he's not back and I know Dumbledore doesn't want that. Hagrid's tough, he'll be okay."
My brother's silent for a moment before he speaks again. "When's your next Hogsmeade weekend, anyway? I was thinking, we got away with the dog disguise at the station, didn't we? I thought I could —"
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," I mutter and roll my eyes. Sirius sends a quick glare towards me over his shoulder.
He then chuckles into the flames. "Oh, that," he says, grinning, "they're always guessing where I am, they haven't really got a clue –"
He's been interrupted, and I hope to Merlin the kids have some sense in their heads.
"All right, all right, I've got the point," my brother says with a displeased tone.
I suppose the kids have some sanity in their heads.
"Just an idea, thought you might like to get together," Sirius continues tightly.
My brother is silent for a moment before he speaks again. "You're less like your father than I thought," he says finally, a definite coolness in his voice. "The risk would've been what made it fun for James," He says bitterly.
And naturally, when needed, my brother can also be a petulant and imprudent arse.
"Well, I'd better get going, I can hear Kreacher coming down the stairs," Sirius says with an unreadable voice.
What a fucking liar.
"I'll write to tell you a time when I can make it back into the fire, then, shall I? If you can stand to risk it?" He asks a bit sourly. Then he extracts himself away from the flames and closes the floo connection with a flick of his wand.
He turns towards me with a scowl on his face.
"Congratulations, brother," I say snidely. "You're an arse."
Sirius glares at me. "Bugger off," He mutters and leaves the room.