Chapter 18: XVIII
Notes:
Huiui... I didn't notice, but the chapter I had planned to upload was super long. Almost 10k words, so I decided to split it in half.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
"Is it your first time?"
Low affect in a voice he had only ever known to be either kind or bored.
"Did you kill before?"
"I crushed his windpipe."
The voice was ringing in his ears. Sirius violently awoke from unconsciousness.
"I'm sorry."
What? Who was speaking to him? There was a low pop behind him, but as he whirled around, nobody was there.
Water splashed around his waist.
Sirius searched the darkness for the speaker, but he was completely alone. He was leaning against stone walls, kneeling in some sort of liquid and—
Merlin and Morgana, the stench! He was in an old sewer system, he quickly realized.
The last he remembered was being stuck in the ministry cells. Kakashi had come and killed… That low affect in his voice as he spoke about killing a man.
No, that couldn't have been Kakashi! Sirius shook his head. He felt confusion numbing his brain.
One thing after the other, he told himself. He was obviously not in the ministry anymore. This had to be the sewers under London. He had no idea how he got here, but Sirius wouldn't be so stupid as to waste his chance for freedom.
He felt weak, his legs felt unsure, but he managed to stand up. With the stench around him, he didn't want to turn into his dog form. Stumbling, he took a tentative step. Now that he stood, the sewage reached up to his knees. It was dripping disgustingly from the rim of his shirt and his sleeves. He pulled his collar up over his mouth and nose to protect himself from the bad fumes.
Sirius didn't linger much over it.
He had escaped from Azkaban of all places. The word hygiene had very much left his vocabulary years ago. Wading through shit, he held one hand against the wall, to orient himself in the darkness. Sirius had no idea about the London sewer systems. He had no idea where to go, but the stench aside… This feeling of disorientation seemed familiar.
Like exploring the secret passages through Hogwarts. If he ignored the stench and the mixture of water, dirt, and shit…he could almost compare it. He could almost hear James' voice calling him forward.
"Right here, Pads! Let's find the exit."
He blindly followed where the imaginary voice that sounded like James led him.
Are you leading me to Harry? Sirius wondered. Will you lead me to your son, James? Or back to hell, to accept my punishment? For causing your death.
He shook his head. James wouldn't do that to him, would he? Even after Sirius' failure. Sirius blindly followed, wherever James would lead him. He didn't even think about where he was going. Or where he wanted to go.
The image of Alaric Gibson and his crushed windpipe, the tone of Kakashi's voice… It couldn't possibly have been Kakashi… Sirius didn't want to think about it. Had he caused another friend to die?
In an odd way, the stench was a comforting distraction. And then the sickness caught up to him and he puked against the wall.
He had to get out of here… and then…
Hogwarts. He's in Hogwarts.
His goal hadn't changed.
**
Kakashi watched the white snow owl vanish over the roofs of London. If she really was as smart as Harry had suggested, she'd reach the ministry in no time, and he could maybe already expect a response this evening. Or not, Kakashi reconsidered. Who knew how fast the ministry worked? Surely, they still had their hands full with Sirius' escape.
Kakashi sighed. "I'm taking a nap," he announced to Harry as he left the room. There were things he had to think about.
Earlier this morning, when he fell in bed tired and exhausted, he hadn't known what his next steps would be. He had considered just trying to investigate magical dimensional travel and then find his fastest way home. After having almost – he hoped, it was only almost – killed Sirius' friend, he knew the other would have no interest in his help. He wouldn't want to see him ever again, and in any case, Kakashi had proven, once more, that he'd only bring violence into this world. Never mind, that he had heard the minister talk. The man was perfectly willing to blame all the injured – and potentially dead – aurors on Sirius. Instead of helping him, Kakashi had made it worse in the long run.
So, maybe it would be best to just leave back to Konoha as fast as he could. Conveniently, he was apparently right at the entry point to Diagon Alley, the magical London. So, tomorrow he could start researching dimensional travel here…
Then he was rudely awakened by a knock on the door and had to quickly transform back to Charlie. Harry offered to use his owl, and Kakashi remembered.
Hogwarts.
The rat would be there. He could still do something for Sirius, even if the other never wanted to see him again. He could make up for his mistake, by hunting down the rat. Maybe, he could even prove Sirius' innocence. Do something, to make up for his mistake at least.
The new problem he now had to deal with, was that of his identity. He hadn't meant to don the disguise of 'Charlie Major' for longer than necessary. He had hoped that Sirius would find Harry and him soon, and then Kakashi could join him again. But then things had happened, and now it seemed he was stuck with the name and face.
Which caused quite a few problems. Charlie Major was an English name, but even Harry – who wasn't himself the sharpest investigator – could quickly deduce that Kakashi himself wasn't actually English. His accent was a dead give-away. Although he was confident in his English by now, pronunciation was a different beast altogether. Harry also picked up on the fact, that he had never written anything in English before. Kakashi had spent long hours reading the language, but writing it was something else entirely. He hadn't even known the name for the short stroke that his eyes had skipped over a thousand times, as he read the newspapers. Kakashi had never asked Sirius about that – and why would he have? A comma.
Kakashi let Harry do the work for him. And Harry did a marvelous job of finding a country of origin for Kakashi. South Africa. Conveniently, he remembered reading about the country before, so he could even give Harry a name for the city.
There were other problems regarding his identity, that he had to solve. He wasn't in the ministries register. On top of that, he had told them he was muggleborn – he was rather grateful that Sirius had told him what muggles were. Being muggleborn, however, meant he shouldn't just be on the magical registry, but it stood to reason, that the muggles had a similar databank. So, he'd need to find a way to explain why he wasn't in either registry.
He had said, he came from Horley, but Horley was such a small place, if anybody made a bit of research, they'd quickly notice that nobody in Horley had ever met a boy called Charlie Major. Never mind, what would he explain happened to his parents?
Charlie Major, a muggleborn wizard from Johannesburg, South Africa who somehow ended up in Horley, England without a legal guardian, without appearing on any muggle or wizarding registry and nobody in Horley ever hearing about him.
He'd bang his head against the wall in frustration if he didn't worry that somebody might hear and it would only cause more questions. How could he make sense of this story? Since when were his cover stories so lackluster?
So much about researching dimensional travel. Now, instead, he had to focus on finding more information to make the story more plausible. If he was unlucky, the minister would ask him to a meeting in the ministry – be that with the minister personally or somebody from the school or somebody responsible for underage wizards. By that time, he'd need his story airtight. If the minister didn't want to talk to him, he'd need the story at the start of the term, at the latest.
Which meant… Instead of taking the nap, he had announced to Harry, Kakashi walked down to Tom to ask him whether there was a library or something like that in London. Surely, there was. London was huge after all.
Sadly, apparently, Tom had no idea about muggle London and could only give him directions to the local bookstore in Diagon Alley – Kakashi didn't even know how to get to Diagon Alley yet. However, Kakashi was certain enough, that there had to be…some sort of library in this huge city, so he simply left the pub and the dingy little street it was in and asked a few pedestrians for directions.
South Africa, he thought. Even if he could maybe get out of talking about his 'time in Johannesburg' by eluding to some traumatic memory, he needed some knowledge about the country. First and foremost, he should probably learn about the language that Harry now thought was his mother tongue.
To his delight, he quickly learned, London had libraries for days with more knowledge compiled in them than he'd find in the Konoha Archives. With the difference of course, that this knowledge was all easily available, because either nobody had ever told these people that knowledge was power or… well… or they just really valued education on matters other than killing, Kakashi thought with a snort.
Using the library didn't even cost anything.
**
He had been too naïve, Kakashi thought.
Of course, this world knew war and bloodshed. Apparently, he had the great luck of having landed in a country and time that did not currently experience war, but evidently, this world was not a warless utopia. Sirius had alluded to that as well. Kakashi remembered He had talked about a war in the past.
Kakashi hadn't known what to make of the information because nobody in this country seemed to remember anything about war. They all seemed to feel safe. Yet, as Kakashi read up on history, he found out, that they too had fought in a bloody World War. Just fifty years ago. Granted, the period of peace was longer, than any period of prolonged peace Konoha had ever experienced. But fifty years was not outside human memory. It meant there were a lot of people still alive who had experienced and even fought in that war, who had suffered and lost family and friends.
Kakashi was both disappointed and disturbingly relieved, as he read about it. This was not the utopia he had imagined it in. Instead, it was a world violent and bloody and brutal as his own. Which meant, he hadn't brought violence to this place. It was already there. The realization was relieving. It made this place less foreign, and him feel a little more at place. It also gave him hope he thought.
These people had fought bloody wars for centuries as it seemed. Now they were at peace. Just because, a war had happened, just because many might still remember it, did not make the peace he had felt as he had traveled through the villages, any less real. This country knew war and violence, and now it was allied with their former adversaries.
Reading up on the history of the United Kingdom and of South Africa, he learned a lot about this world. He learned that when Harry mentioned 'colonies' he was alluding to a violent past, where one people had ruled over and suppressed the other. He learned of struggles, of prejudice, and of terrible massacres. And much of it felt oddly familiar.
He was sucked into the history of this world and when he finally decided it was time to get back to his room in the Leaky Cauldron, one realization had struck him with surprising force:
This world was ancient.
This country was hundreds of years old, looking back on an over two-thousand-year-old history. Two thousand years of struggles of wars and violence… And yet now, old city walls and defenses only stood as a reminder of ancient architecture, as a tourist attraction or hiking destination.
Konoha was only eighty years old, and even within these eighty years so many questionable things had happened, that the details in history books were murky at best. Would they have to get through that as well? Would they take a thousand years to finally have a semblance of this peace?
In his research, as he read over cruel events and heinous war crimes, that rang familiar to his ears because he could easily imagine them in his world – he could even imagine being involved in some cases – there were certain phrases he came upon again and again. Words that made him stumble, made him look for new books on the subject, made his head spin.
Just war… Human rights… United Nations?
None of these terms seemed absolute. Rule books, and feeble consensus to protect people and nations from war and suffering. It quickly became obvious, that the rules were broken again and again. And yet still, there was a continued effort.
The reason these people enjoyed peace, he realized, wasn't because they knew nothing of war and nothing of battle. It wasn't because they were soft and weak. It wasn't because they had no enemies. It was because at some point they had decided that peace and safety were preferable and because since then there was continued effort to preserve it.
It would be naïve to assume that the system was flawless, that it wasn't still fragile. There were wars all over in this world. Even now.
Yet, to Kakashi, the existence of war wasn't what had him stunned. To him, war was normal. What was utterly new to him was the efforts made – even by countries that weren't affected directly – to stop or prevent it.
By the time, he fell asleep in his room, he hadn't made any progress on his task to make his identity airtight, apart from knowing that he had to learn about a language called Afrikaans – which was thankfully closely related to English, he found out and didn't seem to difficult all things considered. It was – English aside – not the only language spoken in South Africa, but the one he was most confident he could learn and – after his short research – made the most sense for him to pick. After all, Charlie was clearly – as Harry had put it – quite pasty.
**
Two aurors in intensive care after botched attempt to recapture mass-murderer Sirius Black
London, Yesterday, in the early morning hours convicted mass-murderer Sirius Black was recaptured by the ministry of magic. Held in London until his transport to the wizarding prison Azkaban, Black…
Harry turned to his hot chocolate, steering it with his spoon. He hadn't even known Black had been recaptured. That must have been during the night of his arrival at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry thought. He remembered Charlie, telling him about Fudge's sudden departure. Well, at least that question was answered now.
He looked at the new picture of Black the prophet had published this morning. It showed the madman behind iron bars. He looked slack-jawed, with wide eyes and deathly pallor. He looked even more skeletal than he had in that first picture, and he had gotten older, Harry noted. But the thing that made him unable to turn his eyes away from the man, wasn't the skeletal frame. There was something lurking behind his eyes, that Harry couldn't quite place. He couldn't turn his eyes away from it.
It felt like he was intruding into a very private and intimate moment, only that this moment was captured for eternity and printed a thousand times for everyone to see. It was entrancing.
"What are you reading?" Charlie's voice pulled him away from the picture. Having already read it anyway, Harry picked the morning edition of the daily prophet up and slid it over to the other boy who just sat on the bench opposite Harry. "Apparently the ministry had Black for about an hour, and then he all but killed two of their aurors and left again." Harry grimaced.
Charlie paled a little and grabbed the paper. His brows furrowed a little. Harry could empathize with him. When he first started reading the Daily Prophet the characters had been almost unintelligible for him as well. Still, slowly Charlie made progress through the article.
"They survived?" Charlie's voice was quiet, but he seemed agitated. It was in the way his shoulders didn't slump quite as casually as they normally did.
Harry took a sip from his drink. "I don't know. They say there were four people injured. Two of them are fine now. One is to be transferred from intensive care soon, so I guess, he's going to be okay. The other one is still critical." He shuddered. "Black had to have done something really bad. I know how fast magical healing works."
Charlie looked unhappy as he handed the paper back to Harry.
"You can keep it," Harry offered. "I've already read it."
The other boy gave a slow nod. Then he folded the prophet and put it next to him on the table. "Thanks." He looked to the wall. Then Charlie knocked his knuckles against the new wanted poster. This morning they had appeared everywhere in the Leaky Cauldron. "Those weren't here yesterday."
Harry nodded emptying his cup and finishing his breakfast. "They added a bounty." He shrugged. "I mean they already offered a reward before, but now…" He shook his head as he stared at the picture. It was the same picture that was printed in the newspaper. Once more, Harry couldn't avert his gaze from the insanity in those eyes.
"5000 Galleons," Charlie read. "How much is that?"
"A lot." Harry wasn't sure himself. He had learned the exchange rates at some point in his first year, he remembered. But since he never owned any muggle money that he needed to exchange he could never quite remember. "I think one Galleon is four Pounds if that helps. Or five?"
He looked at the number below the wanted poster. He knew the Weasleys could use that money. But he had no interest getting involved in this business. If Black had escaped from the ministry – which he assumed was in London – he might still be close. Harry shuddered. Then again, Black was a wizard, and they said he had a wand too… So, he could really be everywhere.
"You don't eat breakfast?" Harry asked. He only now realized that Charlie didn't bring a plate with him. He didn't even drink anything. For a moment he worried that Fudge hadn't paid Charlie's breakfast in advance the way he had Harry's.
"I saw Tom spit into the dishrag." Charlie smirked innocently.
Harry sputtered. "What? And you're telling me now?" Dejectedly, he looked at his empty plate, but then he gave a tired shrug. It was too late, after all. He had already eaten. If Harry was honest, even knowing this, he'd probably eat his breakfast here, again, tomorrow. "So, where do you eat breakfast?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow. As he looked at Kakashi, he noticed he was still wearing the same hoodie. He's been wearing that thing for three days now. Normally, Harry wouldn't really mention it, but… "And why are you still wearing that hoodie. It's been three days and it has like 30 degrees out there."
Charlie shrugged. It was a minuscule little movement. Just a tiny roll of his shoulder. "I'm not hungry. And I like the hoodie." He sounded a bit petulant with the last word.
"But it's hot," Harry gestured to the closest window. Something else occurred to him. "Wait… You don't have anything else." He was pretty certain he was right, now that he said it.
"Of course, I do," Charlie pouted.
"No, you don't." Harry was certain of that. "You didn't have a suitcase. And you don't have money. I had to pay the Knight Bus for you."
"Because they didn't change muggle money," Charlie answered annoyed.
Oh right. Harry had forgotten about that part. "Okay, true. But later you also couldn't pay the room here." It made sense, Harry thought. Charlie mentioned that he lived alone and without a guardian. Where would he get money from? Harry felt almost stupid, for not having noticed it earlier. He felt even stupider for being so blunt about it. His best friend Ron didn't have money either. His family was very poor. Ron didn't like to talk about it. Harry should have remembered that sooner and been a little more gracious about it.
"If you want, I can lend you money," Harry said, thinking Charlie might be more willing to accept if he didn't offer it as charity but as a loan. "So, you can buy stuff. I mean, you'll need school supplies anyway if you want to go to Hogwarts. That costs a lot."
Charlie made a face. "I can't use your magical money in muggle London," he said calmly.
Harry was a little confused at the comment. What would Charlie need to go to muggle London for? He could buy everything he needed in Diagon Alley. He was about to say that when Kakashi spoke again.
"I don't know how to get to Diagon Alley."
Harry closed his mouth again, stunned. He didn't know how to get to Diagon Alley? At this point, Harry would doubt that Charlie was even a wizard if he hadn't seen Charlie use some sort of wandless magic to disarm the minister. Never mind that he had seen the Knight Bus, which most Muggles didn't seem to be able to see.
"The entry is in the backyard. There's a wall, and you need to tap a pattern with your wand. I can show you," he offered.
Charlie looked at him for a long while until he answered. "I don't have a wand."
Harry froze. "You don't—But you're a wizard! Why wouldn't you have a wand?" He felt squeezy. This felt entirely too familiar. Harry hadn't known anything about the magical world until he turned eleven. His aunt and uncle had refused to tell him anything. He hadn't even known that he was a wizard. When Hagrid first brought him to Diagon Alley, Harry had been overwhelmed. He remembered when he first arrived on King's Cross how he hadn't known what to do, and if he hadn't found the Weasleys who could explain it to him, he would have missed his train. Even today there were so many things about the magical world he didn't know. He was still learning and always jealous of Ron who had the privilege to grow up with all of this.
But Charlie…he was like Harry. Exactly like him, Harry thought. Only that he was three years older, and somehow, he must have fallen through the cracks and didn't get a Hogwarts letter and had to navigate all this on his own. He didn't even have a wand.
"Do you have time today?" Harry asked.
Charlie looked surprised at the change of topic. He shrugged and then shook his head. "Not really. I wanted to ask if the minister answered. And then I need to go to muggle London."
Harry wanted to ask what he needed in muggle London, but then it wasn't really any of his concern. It was maybe for the better. That way he had time to write letters to Hermione and Ron, tell them that he was in London and then he could go to Gringotts and get some money.
"No, I didn't get a letter back yet," Harry answered quickly. "What about tomorrow. Can you make time tomorrow?" Charlie looked at him patiently. Harry continued when it became clear, that the other boy wanted to know the plan first. "I just… I thought we could go shopping together. I show you Diagon Alley. You can get a wand… What do you say?"
He was half-convinced that Charlie would deny him. He hadn't made the overt offer to pay for everything, but it was very much implied, and Harry still thought, Charlie might be too proud to accept charity. But then, Charlie gave another shrug. "Sure. At eight?"
"Eight?" Harry thought that was a little late… Wait. "In the morning?" Ugh… "Yeah sure, eight sounds great." There was only little excitement in his voice.
Charlie smirked. That little…
Notes:
Poor Sirius is all alone. Which is also the reason he will only sporadically appear for a while. He make his way to Hogwarts on his own. There's not that much to write about sadly.
Meanwhile Kakashi and Harry....shenanigans ensue. I really love letting Kakashi think about politics of this world... All of that has to sound so strange for kakashi... But I hope he can take some of what he learns with him to Konoha at the end of the story. Next chapter Harry and KAkashi will go wand shopping... expect another lengthy chapter...That will be fun.