CHAPTER SEVEN:

Third Person P.O.V.:

Madame Pomfrey insisted on keeping Harry in the hospital wing for the rest of the weekend, much to the boy's disapproval. The only time Charlie, Ron, and Hermione would leave Harry's side would be at night when curfew dawned upon then.

Harry was itching to talk to Charlie about the Grim that they both saw during the Quidditch match, but failed to be able to since he never wanted to bring it up in front of Ron or Hermione. Simply because he knew Ron would panic and Hermione would say it was rubbish.

If he was being honest, Charlie had thought about the Grim a couple of times since that day. There was no denying the fact that it had now appeared twice, and both appearances had been followed by near-fatal accidents; the first time, Harry had nearly been run over by the Knight Bus; the second, he had fallen a hundred feet from his broomstick.

Was the Grim actually going to haunt Harry until he died?

Was Ron right when he said that the danger that was coming for Charlie would be a result of him protecting his best friend?

For goodness sake, was Trelawney actually telling the truth?

And then there were the Dementors.

The dammed Dementors that sent a shiver down Charlie's spine at the mere thought of them. Granted, he didn't have an experience quite like Harry. The brown eyed boy still couldn't believe it when Harry had told him that he was hearing the last moments of his mother's life. The moments in which she saved him from Lord Voldemort as he did nothing but laugh as he murdered her...

Charlie couldn't imagine what his best friend was feeling, and he knew that he wouldn't have been able to do anything to help him.

What are you supposed to say when your best friend tells you something like that?

Imagine the relief to return, with Harry, Ron and Hermione, to the noise and bustle of the main school on Monday, where he was forced to think about other things, even if he had to endure Draco Malfoy's taunting towards him and Harry about Gryffindor losing the match.

It didn't matter, however, because, on a happier note, Professor Lupin was back at work. It certainly looked as though he had been ill. His old robes were hanging more loosely on him and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes; nevertheless, he smiled at the class before teaching as though he never left.

As for Quidditch, Ravenclaw ended up flattening Hufflepuff in their match at the end of November, which meant Gryffindor weren't out of the running for the House Cup after all. Wood became repossessed of his manic energy, and worked his team as hard as ever in the chilly haze of rain that persisted into December. Charlie saw no hint of a Dementor within the grounds. His grandfather's anger seemed to be keeping them at their stations at the entrances.

Two weeks before the end of the term, the sky lightened suddenly to a dazzling, opaline white and the muddy grounds were revealed one morning covered in glittering frost. Inside the castle, there was a buzz of Christmas in the air. Professor Flitwick had already decorated his classroom with shimmering lights that turned out to be real, fluttering fairies.

The students were all happily discussing their plans for the holidays. Both Ron and Hermione had decided to remain at Hogwarts, and though Ron said it was because he couldn't stand two weeks with Percy, and Hermione insisted she needed to use the library, Charlie wasn't fooled; they were doing it to help him keep Harry company, and he was very grateful. So was Harry, he needed his friends now more than ever.

To everyone's delight except Harry's, there was to be another Hogsmeade trip on the very last weekend of the term.

"We can do all our Christmas shopping there!" said Hermione, while the four of them sat in the common room one evening. "Mum and Dad would really love those Toothflossing Stringmints from Honeydukes!"

Charlie took notice as Harry's face fell slightly, to which he gave him a slight pat on the shoulder, "I'll bring you something back, mate. Anything you want, just let me know."

The boy with glasses seemed to cheer up slightly as a small smile grew on his face, "You offering to buy me a new broomstick?"

Charlie laughed, "Okay, well maybe not anything."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Harry chuckled. "Thanks for the offer, mate. But I should be good on everything. Still got plenty of sweets from the last time you guys brought me back some."

Charlie gave his friend a reluctant nod before turning back to the fireplace.

---------------

On the Saturday morning of the Hogsmeade trip, Harry bid good-bye to his three friends, who were wrapped in big coats, hats and scarves.

Charlie frowned slightly as he watched Harry retreat back into the castle. He always did feel bad leaving him behind like this, simply because he knew how much Harry would've liked to go to Hogsmeade.

The brown eyed boy was pulled for his thoughts as he felt a small tug on the sleeve of his jacket. As he turned, he saw Hermione standing there with a small smile, "Walk with me?"

Charlie instantly nodded, and the two of them followed behind the crowd of third-years towards the train. As they arrived at Hogsmeade, Charlie was hoping for Ron to meet up with him and Hermione, but imagine his when the ginger had ran off with Seamus, Neville and Dean towards Zonko's joke shop.

Looks like it was just going to be him and Hermione...

This should be interesting.

The two of them walked through the small wizarding village, and watched as their friends had all scattered into the various little shops. Both, Hermione or Charlie had yet to say anything. They hadn't had a proper conversation since their little moment on the Quidditch pitch, which Charlie was now regretting at it seemed to put them right back into the awkward stage they were before.

They walked all the way to the outskirts of the village to a secluded, viewing area in front of the famous, Shrieking Shack.

"They say it's the most haunted place in Britain," Hermione said nervously, trying to make conversation.

"Is that right?" Charlie said with a smile, staring at the building. "Where'd you hear that?"

The bushy haired girl smiled slightly, "I read about it."

For the first time, the boy turned to face her and sent a teasing smile in her direction, "Of course. Should've guessed."

Hermione laughed slightly before hitting him on the shoulder playfully, causing him to laugh along with her.

Once they came down from their laughter, silence fell over them again. Charlie looked at the girl curiously. There was this weird look on her face, almost as if she was contemplating how to say something.

After a few moments, as expected, Hermione spoke with a stutter.

"C-can I ask you something...?" she said timidly. "Without you getting upset or shrugging it off as if it means nothing."

Charlie gulped.

Was this going to be about the hand-holding thing in the Great Hall?

Or about about the cheek kiss?

Or about the train -

"It's about your father."

Charlie's face fell instantly, "Oh."

Hermione watched the boy's face carefully. He had shifted his gaze to avoid her eyes and she could tell that he was tense, but she couldn't help it; she had to ask.

"Is this about my boggart?" The boy said, softly, barely loud enough for her to hear.

"Yes... and no." She responded, never taking her eyes off of him. "It's not just the boggart. You weren't getting any sleep there for a while. Then there was that bruise on your arm that day in the Leaky Cauldron..."

"I told you that it was nothing."

Hermione sighed, "Charlie, we both know that it wasn't nothing."

The boy finally lifted his head and looked at her, "I don't know what you're expecting me to say."

"I saw the look on your face when the boggart grabbed you." Hermione pressed on, almost in disbelief that he was getting defensive again. "You were scared, yes, but you weren't surprised. Almost like it's happened before -"

"What are you trying to insinuate, Hermione?"

"I don't know!" The bushy haired girl frowned. "I just - I'm worried about you."

Charlie sighed. He felt bad about getting defensive, but he was backed into a corner by the one person he couldn't lie to. She could see right through him, so there was no point in lying.

He spoke as head remained focused on the abandoned building in front of them, "It's not as bad as it seems. My relationship with my father has always been strained. Recently, things have gotten a little more heated. So yeah, I suppose voices have been raised, and perhaps, a grip has been a little too tight. The first time it happened it scared me, which probably explains why my boggart is what it is..."

Charlie's voice trailed off as he turned and met Hermione's saddened eyes. God, this was exactly why he didn't want to say anything.

"But," he continued, trying to better the situation. "It's honestly nothing to stress over. It's only happened twice, and nothing has happened that should raise concern. Besides, my grandfather wouldn't let it get to that point, I'm sure."

All Hermione could do was nod. It did put her mind at some ease knowing that Dumbledore would step in if things got as bad as she imagined them to be.

Instead of saying anything, Hermione pulled the boy into a hug which he gladly melted into. They stood there for a moment, failing to understand which one of them needed that hug more because honestly, they both did.

As they pulled away, the bushy haired girl kept her arms wrapped around his neck as she stared up into his brown eyes, subconsciously telling him that she understood and was going to trust his judgement on the matter for now.

Charlie began to get nervous as he looked into the girl's eyes with his arms still wrapped around her waist. This was probably the most intimate moment the two had shared because of how much closer they were bonded after such revelation from the brown eyed boy. Not to mention, the position they now found themselves in, they were pretty close - not as close as they were on the train - but still.

The boy gulped slightly as he spoke, "C-can I ask you something? Without making things extremely awkward between us for like the sixth time this year..."

Hermione's face began to flush with pink as she nodded slowly, not taking her eyes away from his.

"What exactly is going on betwe-"

A familiar voice yelling from the near distance cut the boy off.

"There you guys are!"

Hermione and Charlie instantly jumped away from one another as they turned to see Ron running towards them.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," said Ron as reached them.

Charlie stood there with an awkward smile as he glanced nervously at Hermione before addressing Ron, "Yeah, well, you found us."

"Yeah." muttered Hermione, sadly.

"You should see the cool things up in Zonkos!" Ron said happily, before noticing the abandoned building behind them, "Woah! Is that the Shrieking Shack?"

Charlie nodded slowly as the three of them had walked up a little closer to the fence that had a sign that said, "Danger! Keep out!"

"Yeah," Hermione said softly. "It's said to be the most haunted place in Britain, have I mentioned that?"

Charlie smiled softly, not taking his eyes off of Hermione, "Twice."

Ron clearly wasn't aware of the his two friends sharing nervous glances at one another behind him. In fact, his eyes were so transfixed on the Shrieking Shack that Hermione and Charlie could probably share a kiss and he wouldn't notice.

Hermione felt her cheeks getting hotter under Charlie'a gaze. She knew that he wanted to finish their conversation, so she spoke to him directly, "Charlie, would you maybe want to get a little closer?"

Uh - that didn't come out the way Hermione wanted it to...

It also happened to be the only thing that could've made Ron's head snap in their direction.

How embarrassing.

"Huh?" Ron said with a raised brow while Charlie couldn't help the playful smirk that formed on his face.

"To the Shrieking Shack!" Hermione said quickly, trying to fix her mistake.

But Ron wasn't convinced, "Right."

The ginger then shifted his gaze towards his best friend, "I think we're fine here."

Charlie was taken aback. His gaze shifted from Hermione to Ron with a furrowed brow, "I don't recall her asking you."

Ron was about to retaliate but was cut off as Draco Malfoy came walking towards them followed by Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini.

"What do we have here?" Draco laughed. "You three shopping for your new home? A bit grand for you isn't it, Weasel-bee? And Hawthorne, I didn't picture you as a haunted house type of guy!"

Charlie groaned before turning to face Draco and his goons, "Would you bugger off?"

Ron agreed, "Yeah, or for once, shut your mouth."

Draco scoffed, "Not very friendly. Boys, I think it's time we taught Weasel-bee and Saint Hawthorne, here, how to respect those who are clearly superior -"

Hermione laughed harshly as she stepped in front of her two friends, "Hope you don't mean yourself."

"How dare you talk to me," Malfoy growled as his eyes shifted towards the girl, "You filthy, little mudblood!"

Charlie clenched his fists and was prepared to lunge forward, but as soon as the words left Malfoy's mouth, he was smacked in the side of the face with a snowball.

"What was that?!"

Malfoy glances about in confusion when - SPLAT! SPLAT! - he takes two more snowballs to the face.

Charlie, Hermione, and Ron looked to one another uneasily. What was going on?

Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini made a start for the three Gryffindors when - PLUMPH! - their knees gave out and they fell head first into the snow. At the sight, Draco began to back away fearfully, eyeing the area curiously, but didn't see anything.

"Wait! There's something out there!" He yelled to his friends on the ground, "There has to be - aaaaaaaaaahhh!"

In an instant, Malfoy's hat was pulled over his eyes, and then he got spun about. With a rough kick on the behind, he was sent stumbling over the hill where he came from and was soon out of sight. His three friends quickly raised to their feet and ran after him.

Charlie, Ron, and Hermione, all stood still, glancing at one another with the utmost confusion. That was when the ends of Charlie's scarf had been lifted in the air, and then, the same thing happened with strings of Ron's hat.

The brown eyed boy laughed as he realized what was going on, "Harry!"

The invisibility cloak fell to the ground. Sure enough, Harry stood there, grinning from ear to ear.

"Bloody hell, Harry!" shouted Ron, breathing heavily. "That was not funny!"

But it was, so the ginger smiled. They all did before they began to laugh with one another.

Honestly, probably the best use of the invisibility cloak.

--------------

The quartet (A/N: can they make up a better word for a group of four like my god) walked through the snow, out of sight from any teachers that could catch Harry out of the castle.

"I still don't understand how you got out of the castle," squealed Hermione.

"Wow!" said Ron, looking very impressed, "you've learned to Apparate!"

Charlie rolled his eyes - Ron could honestly be so dumb sometimes.

"'Course I haven't," said Harry. He dropped his voice so that no one around could hear him and told them all about the Marauder's Map.

"How come Fred and George never gave it to me!" said Ron, outraged. "I'm their brother!"

Charlie laughed, "Probably because they knew you would use it to do something stupid."

"But Harry isn't going to keep it!" said Hermione, as though the idea were ludicrous. "He's going to hand it in to Professor McGonagall, aren't you, Harry?"

Harry spoke quickly, "No, I'm not!"

"Are you mad?" said Charlie, goggling at Hermione. "Hand in something that good?"

Harry protested, "If I hand it in, I'll have to say where I got it! Filch would know Fred and George had nicked it!"

"But what about Sirius Black?" Hermione hissed. "He could be using one of the passages on that map to get into the castle! The teachers have got to know!"

"He can't be getting in through a passage," said Harry quickly. "There are seven secret tunnels on the map, right? Fred and George reckon Filch already knows about four of them. And of the other three - one of them's caved in, so no one can get through it. One of them's got the Whomping Willow planted over the entrance, so you can't get out of it. And the one I just came through - well - it's really hard to see the entrance to it down in the cellar - so unless he knew it was there -"

Charlie thought for a moment. He had been told before about the secret passageways throughout the castle, but had never seen one for himself. Mainly because his grandfather forbid it.

But, what if Hermione was right, like she always was? What if Black did know the passage was there?

Ron, however, cleared his throat significantly, and pointed to a notice pasted on the outside of the sweetshop door as they passed it;

BY ORDER OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC
Customers are reminded that until further notice, Dementors will be patrolling the streets of Hogsmeade every night after sundown. This measure has been put in place for the safety of Hogsmeade residents and will be lifted upon the recapture of Sirius Black. It is therefore advisable that you complete your shopping well before nightfall. Merry Christmas!

"See?" said Ron quietly. "I'd like to see Black try and come to Hogsmeade with Dementors swarming all over the village. Besides, the Honeydukes owners would hear a break-in, wouldn't they? They live over the shop!"

"Yes, but - but -" Hermione seemed to be struggling to find another problem. "Look, Harry still shouldn't be coming into Hogsmeade. He hasn't got a signed form! If anyone finds out, he'll be in so much trouble! And it's not nightfall yet - what if Sirius Black turns up today? Now?"

"He'd have a job spotting Harry in this," said Ron, nodding through the mullioned windows at the thick, swirling snow.

"Come on, Hermione," Charlie tried to reason which earned a frown from the her as the boy seemed to take Ron's side. "It's Christmas. Harry deserves a break."

Hermione bit her lip, looking extremely worried.

"Are you going to report me?" Harry asked her, grinning to which Charlie and Ron laughed.

"Oh - of course not - but honestly, Harry -"

"Seen the Fizzing Whizbees, Harry?" said Ron, grabbing Harry and leading him over to the window of Honeydukes. "And the Jelly Slugs? And the Acid Pops? Fred gave me one of those when I was seven - it burnt a hole right through my tongue. I remember Mum walloping him with her broomstick." Ron stared broodingly into the window. "Reckon Fred'd take a bite of Cockroach Cluster if I told him they were peanuts?"

Charlie laughed and quickly shook his head. The Weasley's were truly something else. When Ron was done reminiscing, the four of them walked through the blizzard once again.

Hogsmeade looked like a Christmas card; the little thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow; there were holly wreaths on the doors and strings of enchanted candles hanging in the trees.

Harry shivered; unlike the other three, he didn't have a cloak or jacket. They headed up the street, heads bowed against the wind, Ron, Charlie and Hermione shouting through their scarves.

"That's the post office -"

"Zonko's is up there -"

"There's Spintwitches Sporting Needs -"

"Tell you what," said Charlie in the middle of the tour, his teeth chattering, "shall we go for a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks? It's freezing out here."

His friends were more than willing, so they crossed the road, and in a few minutes were entering the tiny inn.

It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm, and smoky. A curvy sort of woman with a pretty face was serving a bunch of rowdy warlocks up at the bar.

"That's Madame Rosmerta," said Ron, going slightly red. "I'll get the drinks, shall I?"

As Ron headed towards the bar, Harry, Charlie and Hermione made their way to the back of the room, where there was a small, vacant table between the window and a big Christmas tree, which stood next to the fireplace.

"What's up with Ron?" inquired Harry as they sat down.

Charlie laughed as he looked in the direction of Madame Rosmerta, "Probably a bit keen on the barmaid. Majority of blokes are."

Hermione scoffed looking at Charlie with a furrowed brow, "And you're one of them, are you?"

"I didn't say that," Charlie said playfully. "I was simply answering a question."

This earned a hit on the arm from Hermione as she shook her head in disbelief at the boy.

What a prat.

How could he joke around like that knowing about the intimate moment they had shared not even twenty minutes prior?

Hermione huffed as she looked out the window, avoiding the boy's gaze at all costs.

Charlie laughed at the girl's sudden coldness before glancing to Harry who was looking around, taking in his surroundings. This gave the brown eyed boy the opportunity to lean over slightly and whisper, just loud enough for the girl to hear him.

"You know, Hermione," he said lowly with a smirk, "jealousy isn't a good look on you."

Hermione quickly turned her head away from the window and met the boy's gaze. As she was about to defend herself, Ron came to the table carrying four foaming tankards of hot butterbeer.

"Merry Christmas!" he said happily, raising his tankard.

The four of them drank deeply. Charlie always did enjoy butterbeer. It was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted and seemed to heat every bit of him from the inside.

Then, the door of the Three Broomsticks had opened again. Charlie looked over the rim of his tankard and choked causing his friends to turn in the door's direction.

Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick had just entered the pub with a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with a chiseled man in a dark black bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak - Fenwick Hawthorne, Minister of Magic.

In an instant, Charlie groaned a bit too loudly. Hermione watched the boy's reaction to his father carefully before scooting closer to him to reassure his tensed state. In the next moment, Ron had placed his hands on the top of Harry's head and forced him off his stool and under the table.

Dripping with butterbeer and crouching out of sight, Harry clutched his empty tankard and watched the teachers' and Fenwick's feet move towards the bar. They had yet to notice the Gryffindors at the back of the room. Charlie had even turned his head slightly and pulled his hat down farther as an attempt to not get noticed.

The quartet could hear their voices in the distance as Rosmerta had approached the new customers with drinks in hand already.

The barmaid called out, "A small gillywater -"

"Mine," said Professor McGonagall's voice.

"Four pints of mulled mead -"

"Ta, Rosmerta," said Hagrid.

"A cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella -"

"Mmm!" said Professor Flitwick, smacking his lips.

"So you'll be the red currant rum, Minister."

"Thank you, Rosmerta, m'dear," said Fenwick in a flirtatious tone. "Lovely to see you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won't you? Come and join us..."

"Well, thank you very much, Minister."

Charlie gritted his teeth at the "friendly" interaction between his father and the barmaid. His heart was pounding uncomfortably in his throat.

"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?" came Madame Rosmerta's voice.

Charlie could see his father's body twist in his chair as though he were checking for eavesdroppers out of the corner of his eye.

Then Fenwick said in a quiet voice, "What else, m'dear, but Sirius Black? I daresay you heard what happened up at the school on Halloween?"

"I did hear a rumor," admitted Madame Rosmerta.

"Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?" said Professor McGonagall exasperatedly to which Hargid simply sunk into his barstool.

"Do you think Black's still in the area, Minister?" whispered Madame Rosmerta.

"I'm sure of it," said Fenwick shortly, sipping on his rum.

"You know that the Dementors have searched the whole village twice?" said Madame Rosmerta, a slight edge to her voice. "Scared all my customers away... It's very bad for business, Minister."

"Rosmerta, dear, it's a necessary precaution..." Fenwick trailed off. "Unfortunate, but they're supposed to help... I've just met some of them. They're in a fury against my dear father-in-law - he won't let them inside the castle grounds."

"I should think not," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?"

"Hear, hear!" squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick, whose feet were dangling a foot from the ground.

"All the same," demurred Fenwick, "they are here to protect you all from something much worse...We all know what Black's capable of..."

"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," said Madame Rosmerta thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought... I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead."

"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," said Charlie's father gruffly. "The worst he did isn't widely known."

"The worst?" said Madame Rosmerta, her voice alive with curiosity. "Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?"

"I certainly do," said Fenwick.

"I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?"

"You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," murmured Professor McGonagall. "Do you remember who his best friend was?"

"Naturally," said Madame Rosmerta, with a small laugh. "Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here - ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!"

Charlie heard Harry drop his tankard with a loud clunk, so naturally, the brown eyed boy kicked him slightly to let him know not to blow their cover.

"Precisely," said Professor McGonagall. "Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course - exceptionally bright, in fact - but I don't think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers -"

"I dunno," chuckled Hagrid. "Fred and George Weasley could give 'em a run fer their money."

"You'd have thought Black and Potter were brothers!" chimed in Professor Flitwick. "Inseparable!"

"Of course they were," said Fenwick in a low growl. "Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily. I remember when Julia told me they named him the godfather of Harry. The boy has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him."

Wait, Lily? As in Lily Evans...?

Hang on, if Lupin knew Lily and Charlie's mom, was it possible that he also knew Sirius? Is that who Snape was insinuating let Black into the castle?

Oh my days.

Did Lupin really let a murderer into the castle?

"Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?" whispered Madame Rosmerta.

"Worse even than that, m'dear..." Fenwick dropped his voice and proceeded in a sort of low rumble. "Not many people are aware that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. But, of course, You-Know-Who isn't an easy person to hide from."

Charlie furrowed his brows at his father's comment. Fenwick seemed to know more about Voldemort than he let people believe.

"Naturally," said Professor McGonagall. "Dumbledore remained worried as James had said that he was going to tell Black of his whereabouts. James thought he could trust him."

"Wait, Dumbledore suspected Black?" gasped Madame Rosmerta.

"He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements," said Professor McGonagall darkly. "Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who."

"It was wild idea at the time," Fenwick said quickly. "However, I guess the truth was finally discovered."

"Black betrayed them?" breathed Madam Rosmerta.

"He did indeed. Black was tired of his double-agent role, he was ready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and he seemed to have planned it for the moment of the Potters' death." Fenwick explained in a tone Charlie couldn't recognize. "But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Harry Potter. Who would have thought? Powers gone, horribly weakened, the Dark Lord fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed. His master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colors as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it -"

"Filthy, stinkin' turncoat!" Hagrid said, so loudly that half the bar went quiet.

"Shh!" hushed Professor McGonagall.

"I met him!" growled Hagrid. "I musta bin the last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me that rescued Harry from Lily an' James's house after they was killed! Jus' got him outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across his forehead, an' his parents dead... an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' motorbike he used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin' there. I thought he heard of You-Know-Who's attack an' come ter see what he could do. White an' shakin', he was. An' yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN' TRAITOR!" Hagrid roared.

"Hagrid, please!" said Professor McGonagall. "Keep your voice down!"

"How was I ter know he wasn' upset abou' Lily an' James? It was You-Know-Who he cared abou'! Black knew he was goin' ter have ter run fer it that night, knew it was a matter o' hours before the Ministry was after him. But what if I'd given Harry to him, eh? I bet he'd've pitched him off the bike halfway out ter sea. His bes' friends' son! But when a wizard goes over ter the Dark Side, there's nothin' and no one that matters to em anymore..."

"You're right, Rubeus." Fenwick said without thinking. "Nothing matters but serving You-Know-Who - at least to those on his side, of course."

No one but Charlie seemed to catch that little add-in from his father. What a peculiar thing to say -

Madame Rosmerta said with some satisfaction, "But he didn't manage to disappear, did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!"

"Alas, we did," said Fenwick happily. "It was us who found him. Myself and little Peter Pettigrew - another of the Potters' friends. We were maddened by grief, no doubt. Pettigrew even went after Black himself."

"Pettigrew... that fat little boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?" said Madame Rosmerta.

"Hero-worshipped Black and Potter," said Professor McGonagall. "Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rather sharp with him. You can imagine how I - how I regret that now..."

"There, now, Minerva," said Fenwick kindly, causing Charlie's brows to furrow even more. His father was never kind. "Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eyewitnesses - Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later - told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing, 'Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?' And then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens...."

Professor McGonagall blew her nose and said thickly, "Stupid boy... foolish boy... he was always hopeless at dueling... should have left it to the Ministry..."

"I tell yeh, if I'd got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn't've messed around with wands - I'd 've ripped him limb - from - limb," Hagrid growled.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Rubeus," said Charlie's father sharply. "Nobody but trained Aurors from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered. I was Junior Minister at the time, and I was the first one on the scene after Black murdered all those people."

Fenwick continued, this time, sounding like he was upset, again, causing a furrowed brow from his son in the back of the room. "I - I will never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street, so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggles screaming. And Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him... a heap of bloodstained robes and a few - a few fragments - his finger - oh god, the finger..."

Fenwick's voice stopped abruptly. There was the sound of five noses being blown.

"Well, there you have it, Rosmerta," said The Minsiter thickly. "Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Black's been in Azkaban ever since."

Madame Rosmerta let out a long sigh.

"Is it true he's mad, Minister?"

"I definitely think so," said Fenwick slowly. "I certainly believe his master's defeat unhinged him, I can only imagine how tough the downfall of the Dark Lord was. The murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man - cruel... pointless. I saw Black on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark; there's no sense in them... but I was shocked at how normal Black seemed. It was unnerving, to say the least. However, our conversation seemed to go nowhere as he failed to answer any of my many questions. Then, although the most heavily guarded prisoner in the whole place, he lunged at me as I turned to leave."

The entire table gasped as the revelation. Even Charlie's ears had perked up.

"He grabbed me aggressively by my suit jacket through the bars of his cell," Fenwick continued, "Told me I was going to get what was coming to me - it was horrific. I have no idea what he was insinuating. Imagine my fear when within the next few weeks, I had heard he had escaped."

"But what do you think he's broken out to do? He wouldn't be foolish enough to go after you, would he?" asked Madame Rosmerta. "Good gracious, Minister, what if he tries to rejoin You-Know-Who?"

"I daresay that is his - er - eventual plan," said Fenwick evasively. "But we hope to catch Black long before that. I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing... but give him back his most devoted servant, and I can only dare to think how quickly he'll rise again..."

There was a small chink of glass on wood. Someone had set down their glass.

"You know, Fenwick, if you're dining with the headmaster, we'd better head back up to the castle," said Professor McGonagall.

One by one, the adults got up, still failing to acknowledge the four students in the back of the room. Madame Rosmerta disappeared behind the bar. The door of the Three Broomsticks opened again, there was another flurry of snow, and the teachers and Charlie's father had disappeared.

Ron and Hermione looked to Charlie for any sense of confirmation on what had just been revealed.

But the boy was at a loss for words.

Of course he knew about Black's relation to Harry's parents and about his father's visit to Azkaban, but he hadn't known specific details. There was so much to process in that single moment, but Charlie shook it off as he remembered Harry.

God, Charlie could only imagine his reaction to all of this.

The brown eyed boy quickly looked under the table to find the boy with glasses staring at the floor in disbelief, he too, at a loss for words.

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Author's Note:
*this chapter was not proof read*

So like I have a twist planned, and I'm trying to hint at it, but don't want to give too much away, so let's hope I didn't! Ahahaha!

Anyways! Hope you enjoyed!

Thank you for over 100 votes! I'm in awe by your support! So thank you, thank you!

Much love to you all, until next time!

xo, Selena