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Harry Potter Squib Tales Chapter 46
🕑 Added 2024-07-30 17:01:01 +0000 UTCChapter 46: The Crucible
‘I hope Harry’s ride to Hogwarts is going well,’ I thought to myself as I entered my apartment.
After dropping off the kids, Mr. Weasley had kindly taken me back to my apartment. I’d offered him a cup of tea and to show him around the place, but he’d declined. As much as he wanted to see how Muggles lived, he still had work to do. The day kids rode the Hogwarts express was technically a Ministry holiday, but unfortunately he’d needed to go in and deal with a rogue cursed toilet.
Glancing about, the place felt empty, and I felt a bit depressed at being alone once more. I’d really enjoyed having Harry around. It was nice. It reminded me of having a little brother. One who actually liked me.
‘No time to think about that,’ I thought to myself, shaking my head and clearing away the morbid thoughts.
Rather than dwell on things beyond my control, I delved into something else I was capable of. Planning for Voldemort’s return.
I had money thanks to my business and successful bet. Not to mention I was posed to make a fortune by short charging the pound when it collapsed later in the month. Now, I needed some muscle. Voldemort wouldn’t be beaten with gold alone. I would require combatants to fight him. More effective than the ones Dumbledore assembled, at the very least.
So, what could I do? How could I justify having armed men around? Or even explain why I was buying weapons?
The answer had come to me a while ago while thinking about it. A security company! Pen in hand, I scribbled out a few words onto a napkin.
“Crucible Security Solutions,” I muttered a moment later as I read aloud the name I’d written down.
I was going to establish my own security firm. And they would have to be people who knew about the magical world if I wanted to use them against Voldemort. Squibs, obviously, but perhaps some Muggleborn? I’d need magical expertise if I wanted to protect myself in both worlds.
“And I think I know where to start looking for my first recruit,” I mused to myself, resisting the urge to laugh like a villain.
First things first, though! I had a contract to write up!
&&&&&
Several days later, and I was at a café in London, waiting for the man I truly hoped would show up. I’d sent him an owl with a letter stating I wanted to hire him, and he’d agreed to meet me here.
I’d gotten there a bit early, and was anxiously awaiting his arrival. Finally, after ten long minutes, I spotted him enter. Scruffy, tired, and wearing a brown jacket that’d seen better days, I waved at the man, causing him to approach the booth in the far corner I was sitting at.
“Remus Lupin?” I inquired when he walked over, and the man nodded at me slowly.
“Correct. You must be Edward Rose,” he said, and stuck his hand out to shake it. I took it without hesitation, giving it a solid pump.
“Yes, that’s me,” I replied, gesturing for him to take a seat. He did so, albeit with a wary glint in his eyes.
The werewolf (not that he knew that I knew) was clearly suspicious of me, and to be fair, asking to meet with somebody out of the blue for a job interview was somewhat strange.
“How did you learn about me?” he inquired.
“I asked a family friend for any references regarding people suited to the line of work I’m inquiring about,” I said. “You may know him. Arthur Weasley.”
His eyes lit up at that, and I hid a grin. I actually had asked Arthur Weasley for any information he might have about a wizard who needed work and wasn’t afraid of getting a little dirty for it. A bit of extra nudging and dropping hints had led him to mentioning Remus Lupin.
‘This way, if he follows up and asks Mr. Weasley about my claim, it will technically be the truth,’ I thought to myself.
“Hmm. Did he mention… about my problem?” he asked hesitantly.
“I am aware of your lunar issue, yes,” I confirmed. That seemed to make him relax a bit.
“What exactly is this job you want to hire me for?” Lupin inquired.
“Before that, could you put up some Sound and Muggle Repelling charms? I don’t want to be eavesdropped on, since this conversation is about magic,” I said first, and he frowned at me.
“And why can’t you do it?”
“I’m afraid I can’t. I’m a Squib,” I replied bluntly. To my surprise, the flicker of pity every other magical adult gained when I said that was absent from Mr. Lupin. If anything, he seemed sympathetic and understanding, and raised a few charms around the booth after discreetly taking out his wand.
“Now, what exactly do you want?” Lupin asked. “What does this job entail?”
“I’d like to hire you to be part of a security force I’m putting together to protect my business interests, both within the Wizarding World and the Muggle one,” I explained. “Having a mage on the payroll would make protecting things a lot easier.”
Lupin raised an eyebrow at that, but didn’t otherwise react negatively, so I continued on. “I hope to hire others who know about the magical side. I already have a couple other Squibs working for me, as well as the parents of a few Muggleborn students alongside Muggle spouses of magical couples. Right now, though, you’d be the first wizard to work for me.”
“I see. What exactly do you do that requires magical protection?” Lupin inquired. He had a great poker face. I had no idea what his thoughts were.
“I make these,” I said, taking out a bottle of Wiggenweld Cream for him to examine. It was put in a green plastic container with Cauldron’s label on one side, and the Yggsdrasil symbol on the other.
Lupin took it, sniffing it curiously. “Is this magic?” he uttered in surprise. “Some sort of potion turned into a balm?”
“Good nose,” I praised. “I manufacture and sell potions in the Muggle world.”
“Is that legal?” he asked suspiciously.
“I used non-magical ingredients,” I said, deflecting the question. “And everyone who made it knows about magic as well.”
“Yes, but selling this to Muggles…” Lupin trailed off.
“There are no laws that state I cannot sell things to Muggles,” I pointed out. And I had checked. Thoroughly. The ancient laws hadn’t had anything against it, and the modern rules simply focused on those in the know keeping unaware Muggles from finding out about magic.
In fact, it seemed as though modern mages all assumed nobody would even consider selling magical goods to ordinary people and that the Statute of Secrecy would completely prevent any leaks. Thus, as long as I didn’t explicitly inform my customers my products were magical, I was covered by the letter of the law, if not the spirit.
Still, Lupin seemed uncomfortable with it. I wasn’t really surprised. He was a man with Lycanthropy. Being shunned by both sides for his condition meant he was unable to hold down a job for long in either world, and if the Aurors ever found out he was involved in something that skirted the law like my own business venture did… well, Umbridge was in power and pushing through a lot of discriminatory legislation against non-humans. I wouldn’t put it past the Ministry to arrest Lupin and give him a one-way ticket to Azkaban without a trial.
“Thank you for your offer, but I’m afraid this won’t work out for me,” he replied with a resigned sigh.
“Would you reconsider if I said you could see Harry Potter again if you accepted my offer?” I counter-offered. I grinned a bit as I watched the werewolf’s eyes widen in shock, before narrowing in anger.
“What did you-?” he began, his voice a low growl, but I held up a hand to stall him.
“I am a friend of his. After Dumbledore left him on his aunt’s doorstep, I became one of the few people young Harry could trust,” I told him, up front about our relationship.
Lupin paled at my mention of Harry’s Aunt Petunia. Clearly, he knew the horse-faced bint well, even if only by reputation.
“He did what?” he whispered in horror.
“Dumbledore left Harry Potter in the care of the Dursleys,” I confirmed, an expression of displeasure flickering across my face as I spoke. “On their doorstep, in the middle of fall, with only a letter to explain everything.”
“But, James and Lily’s will said…” Lupin mumbled. “Dumbledore promised…”
“Dumbledore has said and done a lot of things that, quite frankly, are horrifically suspicious and not in line with keeping anybody safe, let alone a child,” I said frankly. “Did you know he tried to bait Voldemort into attacking Hogwarts last year?”
The former Marauder flinched at my mention of that noseless bastard, but immediately tried to deny it.
“That’s impossible! He’s dead!” Lupin hissed at me.
“No. He’s not. I wouldn’t exactly call him ‘living’ either, but Voldemort is far from truly dead. He cheated death somehow, and came back as a specter that possessed Professor Quirrell.”
“How?” Lupin demanded.
“Do you know what a Horcrux is?” I wondered, and the man shook his head. “Well, let me explain. It’s an obscure bit of magic, and as Dark as they come. You basically rip a piece of your soul away and imbue it into an object so that even if your body perishes, your soul lingers, allowing you to potentially resurrect. Usually via possession, but there are other methods.”
Lupin stared at me in horror, just as disgusted as I was by this vile ritual. “To make a Horcrux is… abominable. You must commit murder. And not just any murder, but a murder of an innocent soul. Like, say, a baby,” I continued and his eyes lit up in realization.
“Harry!” Lupin gasped, and I nodded.
“Indeed. Thankfully, his damned ritual failed, but he still clings to life somehow as a disembodied spirit,” I revealed.
“But isn’t it possible that You-Know-Who failed to create a Horcrux?” Lupin wondered desperately. “Harry is still alive, after all!”
“Maybe. But the Killing Curse rips the soul from a person’s body, it doesn’t vaporize it,” I retorted. “And Voldy’s body was never found. So whatever happened to him… well, we could assume that the protection ritual Lily Potter used managed to eliminate the Dark Bastard… yet the fact he managed to possess Professor Quirrell tells me he created at least one Horcrux before he came after the Potters.”
Remus Lupin sagged, the life seemingly fleeing his body at the realization that Voldemort was not dead. The murderer of his closest friends remained at large, and had even gone after their son at Hogwarts, purportedly one of the safest places in the world for children? It was all too much to process.
“Let me be honest with you, Mr. Lupin. I need you. I need a man, a wizard, of your talents, to become part of the foundation of a group I am trying to create. A security organization that will, publicly, offer protection for my business interests. In truth, however, it will be a group dedicated to protecting the world from Voldemort when he inevitably returns. And he will. Trust me. You can join me, Mr. Lupin, and help save Harry Potter’s life. Save countless lives,” I urged, pressing my point and hoping to convince him to work with me.
“I-I need time,” he muttered, a dazed expression on his face.
“I can’t allow that,” I replied and he looked up at me sharply. “This is a one-time offer. You must make your decision now. If you refuse, it won’t come again anytime soon.”
“Why?” Lupin demanded.
“Because I do not trust that bearded tosser with Harry’s safety!” I snarled at him. “I do not trust Dumbledore’s motives at all, and if I let you leave to think my offer over, you will go running to him, and he will learn about me.”
“Why don’t you trust Dumbledore? He’s a great man!” Lupin protested.
“I don’t deny that. But when we spoke this summer, after he found out I’d rescued Harry from his abusive relative’s clutches for a short trip to France… well, let’s just say a lot of his arguments make no sense to me.”
“Maybe I’m just paranoid,” I admitted after a moment of tense silence. “But I just can’t bring myself to trust a man who willingly and knowingly set up a series of trials that would have culminated in Harry having to fight Voldemort in the bowels of the school over a shiny rock.”
“He did what?” Lupin asked, aghast, and I nodded.
“Dumbledore had the Philosopher’s Stone hidden away in Hogwarts behind several different ‘traps.’ All of which were capable of being overcome by a group of First-Year students. Now, I’ll admit some of them are a lot brighter and further ahead curriculum wise than it would seem at first glance, but still. No wards, defenses, or barriers that would keep even the least trained Auror out, let alone a man as powerful as Voldemort.”
I shuddered at that. The trials had been child’s play. Literally, in McGonagall’s case!
‘Thank whatever gods exist that events happened differently this time,’ I thought, relieved that Harry had been smart enough to not go rushing into danger, but also scared that he’d still come so close to Voldemort in the end.
I wasn’t impressed by Dumbledore’s planning, needless to say, and Lupin seemed to be taken aback by it.
“That’s… I’ll admit, that circumstances are a bit suspect…” he began, but I cut him off.
“If you want more evidence of what I believe to be foul play on Dumbledore’s behalf, let’s just look at the defenses he put around the Potters,” I said. “A Fidelius Charm requires three people. One to cast the spell. One to possess something worth keeping a secret to act as the spell’s anchor. And last but not least, one person to become the Secret Keeper. Tell me, Mr. Lupin, who was the Potter’s Secret Keeper?”
“Sirius Black,” Lupin grit out through clenched teeth.
“And who cast the Fidelius?”
“It was… Dumbledore,” he said after a moment of wracking his brain for the information.
“Are you sure?” I pressed.
“Yes. You’re right, you need three people for a Fidelius Charm to work, and the person who casts the actual spell itself needs to be quite strong, because it’s a very complex and power-intensive piece of magic. Far more so than James, Lily, or Sirius could have been able to do at the drop of a hat. It would take somebody like Dumbledore to cast it properly without worry.”
“Exactly!” I crowed. There was a reason why the Fidelius Charm wasn’t used wily-nilly in the Magical World to hide things. It was a ludicrously difficult enchantment, with maybe a dozen people in all of Magical Britain able to cast it properly. “Now, there is a chance that it didn’t happen that way. But if it did… that would mean Dumbledore knew Sirius Black wasn’t the traitor.”
“WHAT?!” Lupin snarled, glaring at me with baleful eyes. “What do you mean by that?!”
“Sirius Black was not the Secret Keeper. Peter Pettigrew was,” I told him.
“Impossible!” Lupin uttered. “They would have told me if they switched it!”
“Would they? Leaving aside the fact it makes decent tactical sense to switch things up to make the real target safer and mislead people into thinking somebody else had the information they sought, well… werewolves had joined Voldemort’s cause. Sure, he was likely going to betray them afterwards, but he was offering vengeance for generations of discrimination and abuse. Why wouldn’t they join him at the time for a moment of delicious revenge? And with yourself being a werewolf…”
“…it would make me untrustworthy in their eyes,” Lupin finished, expression broken as all the anger left him at the realization.
“Yes, the Order, most likely on the orders of Dumbledore, didn’t want to keep you in the loop for that reason. And also, if I suspect this was the case, he didn’t want too many witnesses to know the truth,” I said.
“How… how do you know all this?” Lupin asked in disbelief.
“I have a passion and talent for Divination,” I said, using my cover excuse for my meta-knowledge. “Potions isn’t the only discipline Squibs like myself can excel at.”
He looked at me blankly, clearly not believing me, but that was fine. If he was suspicious of me, then he’d be wary of Dumbledore as well, at the very least.
“If this is all true… then why did Sirius Black kill Peter instead of going to us about what had happened?” Lupin demanded.
“Well, first off, this is all speculation, but grief hits hard, and it affects people in different ways. Some try and get drunk, others try and murder the ones responsible,” I said with a shrug. “Secondly… Peter isn’t dead.”
Lupin looked as if he wanted to explode again, but held off. “Beg your pardon?” he uttered instead after breathing in and out rapidly.
“You wanted to know if I was telling the truth? Well, consider this my proof,” I said, before snapping my fingers. “Inky. The cage, if you please.”
My loyal House Elf popped in, carrying the enchanted size-changing cage I’d stuffed Scabbers into.
Upon seeing the unconscious rat, and the missing toe from its front left paw, Lupin’s jaw dropped. It appeared he recognized the Animagus despite several years apart.
“He’s drugged with Draught of Living Death, and has a special binding collar around his neck to let me track him if he does escape. Plus, the cage will change size if he tries to transform and break out. Do you wish to undo his transformation to check?” I inquired.
“No. Even after more than a decade, I remember exactly what Peter’s Animagus form looked like,” Lupin said, shaking slightly. Out of anger or betrayal, I wasn’t sure. Maybe both!
“Well, there you have it. Proof,” I said, feeling a bit smug. I snapped my fingers again and let Inky take the cage away.
After a couple minutes of taking deep breaths, Lupin finally calmed down, and he looked me straight in the eye. “You said you had a job for me?”
I withdrew a stack of paper from my bag, and laid it in front of the werewolf. “This is a magical contract. Signing it will bind you to the conditions within. If you agree, you will become the first member of Crucible Security Solutions. Publicly, you will be a security guard for my business properties and my employees. Behind the scenes, you will be helping me prepare to fend off Voldemort when he returns. And he will, I can assure you of this.”
“I see,” Lupin muttered as he leafed through the contract. “I get paid sick leave?”
“Yes, you get a minimum of twenty-one days of paid sick leave per year. These are for your little monthly furry problem and any other medical issues that pop up that a potion or spell can’t fix,” I told him. “I will also provide doses of Wolfsbane Potion.”
“You can brew it?” he asked, surprised.
“Indeed. It’s a bit finicky, and the ingredients can be expensive, especially the powdered silver, but it’s worth it to me. Although I will probably try and get you to experiment with some alternative versions of the potion. Just because I can afford to make it on a monthly basis doesn’t mean I don’t want to find a cheaper and easier way to do so.”
Will I be able to see Harry if I sign?” the werewolf asked hesitantly.
“Absolutely,” I assured him.
“And you’ll also try and save Sirius if I agree to this?” Lupin asked hopefully as he took up the quill.
“I would have done so even if you didn’t. But this just makes it easier,” I replied.
Lupin nodded, then signed the contract on the dotted line. There was a static-charged hum as the ink of the parchment glowed, and I knew the Oath Binding Ink I’d made had worked.
“So, what now?” Lupin asked as he put the quill down and looked at me with hope and determination in his eyes.
“First things first. we’re going to help break Sirius Black out of Azkaban,” I told him with a smile. Lupin blanched.
“We are?”
“Yes. I believe Dumbledore knew all along Black was innocent, but kept him locked up in Azkaban for his own purposes. I don’t know why, but I suspect it’d be to do with the Godfather status he has with Harry,” I mused.
In the magical world, being a Godfather wasn’t as magically potent as in some fanfics, but it had some effect, and it did give some leeway when it came to legal matters such as guardianship. Meaning Sirius could have adopted Harry, or at the very least raised him, in the aftermath of the Potters’ deaths. Something Dumbledore wouldn’t have wanted at all, if my suspicions about him and his goals were correct.
“Now, knowing this fact, trying to appeal to the court system won’t exactly work, since Dumbledore is Supreme Mugwump. And while I have some connections in Magical Law Enforcement, I don’t want to use them just yet, lest Dumbledore be alerted. We need Sirius Black to escape first, then I can contact Madam Bones to have her look up Sirius’ trial. Or lack thereof.”
“Ah, use her desire for justice to find Sirius for the sake of finding out the truth,” Lupin hummed thoughtfully. “Clever. But can you really get into contact with her so easily?”
“Harry is friends with her niece,” I explained. “And I can use that connection to get to Madam Bones.”
“That would do it,” Lupin said. He then frowned thoughtfully. “How exactly are we going to do this?”
“Simple. We won’t do the actual breaking out. We’ll just convince Sirius Black to do it for us,” I told him.
“What?” he uttered.
“Oh, yes. Did you know that Dementors don’t affect animals? Or at least, not as badly as humans.”
Lupin blinked slowly, then his jaw dropped as he stared at me in disbelief. “You don’t mean… he could have left at any time?!”
“Well, maybe not whenever he wanted, but yeah, Sirius Black could have snuck out as a dog. In fact, I’ll wager that’s how he’s managed to keep his sanity. Err, most of it, at least. Stay as a dog except when the human guards are around, and the Dementors cannot suck the love out of him,” I said.
“I should be asking how you know he was an Animagus, same as Peter, but I don’t think I’ll get a straight answer,” Lupin muttered, mostly to himself. He then sighed, before nodding. “Okay, I see the plan, now. You want me to convince him to escape on his own, is that right? But how will we do that? They don’t allow visitors to the prison!”
“Not as simple, but still doable. If the Dementor’s ignore animals, why not take advantage of that weakness?” I asked.
“But there’s an anti-owl ward around the island,” Lupin pointed out. “As well as Anti-Apparition and portkey prevention wards. Not to mention it’s Unplottable.”
“Yes, anti-owl. But what if we use something else? Something that isn’t even a bird at all?” I asked, and Lupin blinked at me in confusion.
“What did you have in mind?”
The smile I gave him in response was nice and wide and full of teeth, and I savored the flinch he made. “Ever heard of Project X-Ray?”
&&&&&
The plan was simple. If owls and other avians couldn’t reach Azkaban, why not try a different animal? Like, say, a bat?
It wasn’t going to be easy. Bats weren’t as magically attuned as owls were, nor as easily trainable, but there were ways around those issues.
Looking up the enchantment that was placed on owls so they could be used to deliver mail had been easy. I’d just bribed a clerk at the pet shop in Diagon Alley and he taught it to me and Lupin.
Attaching it to a bat was also very easy. Bat wings and other parts had been used in potions for ages, and bats themselves, while not as magical as owls, were probably the second most magical mundane flying species in the world.
The hard part of the plan to free Sirius Black was finding the proper kind of bat to attach it to. The most common breed of bat in Great Britain was the Common Pipistrelle. It was, however, way too small to act as a courier, weighing only five grams.
In the end, Lupin and I went with the Noctule Bat, the largest bat in the UK. It was pretty common, and could be found almost anywhere in woodlands within Wales and England, as well as parts of Scotland, though was absent in Ireland. It was also just barely big and strong enough to carry a letter. Wouldn’t be able to handle a package like a delivery owl could, not even with a weightless charm on it, but a single letter was fine.
Obviously, we tested to make sure bats were unaffected by the owl and bird repelling wards, and it seemed we had found a loophole, just as I’d hoped.
I briefly worried that maybe Azkaban had wards to prevent flying altogether, but dismissed it. If it did, it would interfere with the Dementors. Although they technically ‘floated’ more than ‘flew.’ Still, I hoped the ward schemes weren’t that restrictive.
And so, after a month and a half of hard work, a few warming charms alongside a helpful anti-owl charm to keep predators away, and Wiggles von Snubs the messenger bat was dispatched to find Sirius at Azkaban.
“Will it work?” Lupin asked me as we bobbed in a boat we’d rented and rowed out into the middle of the North Atlantic to make it easier for Wiggles to make it to his destination.
“We just gotta have faith,” I replied. “We did all we could. Now we just wait.”
Lupin nodded, not exactly thrilled, but he knew like I did that there wasn’t much else to do.
“Well, let’s get back to port. It’s way too cold out here,” I suggested, shivering a bit as a chilly wind blew past, stirring up choppy waves.
“Yes,” Lupin agreed. He turned on the motor and we returned to shore. And I didn’t need to use Divination to know some hot chocolate was in our future.
&&&&&
Sirius Black POV
Another day, another bloody chance to listen to the screams of the damned that seemed to constantly echo through the prison. Worse, it was getting colder. Not that Azkaban could ever be considered warm, what with the soul-sucking monsters guarding the place, but when autumn and winter rolled around, the prison-island got even colder. Never quite cold enough to allow the prisoners to freeze to death, the wardens weren’t that cruel and careless, but even as a dog it was horrible.
He often had to take off his clothes before transforming into his hound form, and then use those scraps of cloth as an extra layer of protection against the chill. That meant he was often naked when the human guards wandered by to check on him, but that reinforced the Aurors’ belief he was insane.
‘And maybe I am,’ the last Scion of the House of Black thought to himself as he lay on the floor in his Animagus form. ‘Maybe I am crazy. Why else would I be seeing a bat flying around my cell?’
Because it was there. A cute little critter, with a fuzzy face, going in circles around the ceiling after flying in through the barred window. Well, calling it a window was generous. It was too small to stick his head through, even as a dog, and the thick iron bars had spells on them to alert the guards if he touched them. Not that he could, it being too high to reach even if he piled up all of the stuff in his cell and then stood on it.
Looking up at the bat, Sirius’ dog instincts wanted him to chase it and bark at it, but he managed to clamp down on those thoughts.
‘Poor thing looks confused,’ Sirius mused, watching it. He was glad it hadn’t flown into a different cell. The prisoners nearby, including his ‘darling’ cousin Bellatrix, would have tried to catch and eat it. Raw bat was probably tastier than the gruel they served. Meatier, too.
Not him, tempting as it was. Bats were too cute to treat that way. He’d always liked bats. Wanted one as a pet instead of an owl, but his parents had said no. Couple of killjoys.
After a bit, he decided to sit up, and morphed back into a human. ‘Maybe if I catch it I can set it free,’ he thought hopefully.
Yet when he did so, the bat suddenly stop circling and divebombed him, flying right into his lap.
“Huh, okay?” he muttered, surprised as he tentatively stroked its chest. This was nice… but then he noticed the letter tied to its leg.
“What the-?” he uttered, perplexed. Cautiously, he undid the piece of wire binding the slip of parchment, freeing the letter, and after a moment of hesitation, unrolled it.
‘Padfoot, Wormtail is still alive. Captured him and discovered the truth of what happened that night. I know you are innocent. Prongs Jr. is also alive, but so is the Bald Snake. We can get you a trial, but only if you escape Azkaban. Old Man not to be trusted. Moony.
PS, the bat is named Wiggles von Snub. Not sure if the enchantment will work, but if it does, it should allow him to lead you to me. See you soon.’
Sirius stared at the tiny writing scrawled onto the slip of parchment, eyes growing wide as he read and reread it. For a moment he forgot to breath, and it was only when the bat – Wiggles von Snub – began to cuddle with him for warmth did he remember to suck in air.
‘Is this a joke?’ he wondered. But the names… only four people in the world knew them. And two of them were supposed to be dead. If it was true…
Sirius threw his head back and began to howl with laughter, the sound tinged with madness, regret, but also, for the first time in years, hope.
He then crumpled up the letter and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing it up and swallowing it to destroy the evidence. He then looked down at the piece of wire in his hand, and the bat in his lap.
‘Thank Merlin I begged Lily to get me that book on lockpicking for Christmas all those years ago,’ he thought to himself, using Occlumency to dredge up long-forgotten memories.
It had been a long time since he’d used the mental art. It wasn’t safe to do so in Azkaban, where even the slightest glimmer of positive emotion was like a beacon for the Dementors. Trying to retreat into your memories to escape the unholy guardians of the prison was risky. Either the Dementors sucked out all of your happy memories to the point not even Occlumency could recover them, or you got trapped inside the bad ones, unable to escape due to a lack of will power.
In fact, he’d have to hurry up, as his own moment of madness-tinged hopeful laughter would have attracted the specters. Quickly, he bent the wire into a new shape using the knowledge he’d hastily recalled reading one time, then stuck the makeshift lockpick into his mouth. He then transformed back into a dog just in the nick of time as several of the floating black robes began to approach, turning the area bitterly and unnaturally cold.
Wiggles began to shiver, but Sirius tucked the tiny bat into his side to keep him warm, which calmed him down. Together, they would wait for a chance to escape.
Comments
Catherine Colin
Lets gooo so excited
