A Sirius Situation

A Harry Potter Alternate Universe Story

And the sequel to "A Harry Situation," which is posted at

By Jill Weber AKA Jelsemium

All recognizable characters c J. K. Rowling.

Author's Notes: Here is the long delayed sequel to my story: "A Harry Situation."

I apologize for taking so long to get this out. I had planned to start this in August of 2003. However, the shock of the losing poor Sirius. (sniff) plus real life plus pernicious inertia (a body that has stopped writing has a hard time getting started again), conspired to keep me from writing. However, NaNoWriMo gave me the impetuous to start writing again. (The National Novel Writing Month challenge is to write 50,000 words of a novel during the month of November. I won by writing 51,785 words on this very story. And it's not close to being finished.)

Without further ado, the sequel to A Harry Situation… enjoy!

Chapter One: Sirius Conversation

There is a castle somewhere in northern Scotland. To the uniformed and unmagical eye, this castle looks like a crumbling pile of stone, a ruin both unsafe and uninteresting. To the cognoscenti, it was very much larger than it appeared, far more interesting than was strictly healthy.

The castle housed the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in Great Britain… arguably the best in the world. (And if there was anything witches and wizards did well, it was argue.)

Summer had just begun and all but one of the students had departed for home. The one student who was left was in the Hospital Wing, recovering from life threatening injuries sustained from being attacked by a dragon.

The staff, with four exceptions, had also left for summer occupations. The exceptions being the nurse who was caring for the injured boy, the headmaster, and the history professor. The nurse, Madam Poppy Pomfrey, had stayed behind to look after her remaining patient.

Argus Filch, the caretaker, could have had the summer off. However, he preferred to stay at the castle, claiming he could get more work done without the hordes of brats rampaging about.

The history professor, Dustine Binns, being deceased, had nowhere else to go.

The headmaster, who had plenty of places to go and people to see, was still at Hogwarts, seeing one of those people and arranging for the comfort and safety of the last remaining student… Harry James Potter, the Boy Who Lived.

"It's all my fault," said Sirius Black, escaped prisoner, Marauder, illegal Animagus and godfather to Harry James Potter. He ran his hand through his long, newly cleaned black hair and looked around the room as if in search of an escape route.

Fawkes the fiery-colored Phoenix, looked from the alleged mass murder to Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, Order of Merlin (First Class), Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, and Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards.

"Of course it is," Albus Dumbledore said comfortingly. He stroked his silvery beard and studied Sirius over the top of his half-moon spectacles.

"It's entirely your fault that Voldemort has marked Harry for death. It's certainly your fault that Harry's glasses were cursed to allow the Dragon to home in on him. And naturally, you're to blame for Harry getting thrown into the stone wall of the castle." He raised one bushy eyebrow. "Have I left out anything?"

"Your chin getting frostbitten after your beard rips itself off your face and crawls down your throat," Sirius snarled.

"Ah, my mistake," Dumbledore's expression remained bland.

Fawkes tensed and stared at Sirius as if he wanted to bore a hole in the man's head. Fawkes didn't care for people who threatened Albus Dumbledore.

Sirius pale eyes glared from between his shaggy black fringe. "Stop patronizing me!" He smacked his fist against the wall, drawing angry looks from the various portraits that were hung there.

"Sirius, you can't blame yourself for events beyond your control. You did not send the dragon after Harry. You did not order Harry to lure the dragon away from the other students."

Dumbledore paused. "Although you may have had some influence on his courageous feat, you did not force him to act against his nature."

"James would have been so proud of him," sighed Sirius. He ran his fingers through his hair.

"Any right-minded parent would be proud of a boy like Harry," Dumbledore said firmly.

"And any right-minded parent would have done a better job of protecting him! I stuffed things up! I let that Cressida cow escape," Sirius growled.

"As I recall, from the report that you gave me, you were rather preoccupied in rescuing Harry from her clutches," Dumbledore said calmly.

"Yeah, well, I should have hexed her into oblivion while I was at it." Sirius began to pace around Dumbledore's office. He glared at the various pieces of astronomical equipment as if he was daring the telescopes, sextants and orreries to step outside for a fight.

"You also had your hands full with Miss Weasley and Mr. Longbottom," Dumbledore reminded him.

The corner of Sirius' mouth twitched. "Yeah, that girl is a fireball. Longbottom's just like his dad, too. Frank would have been so proud of that tackle."

"Indeed," Dumbledore murmured. "Neville should be informed of that. I'm afraid he doesn't get as much praise as he should."

"Poor kid," Sirius muttered absently. His head snapped up and a fierce expression crossed his face.

"Stop trying to distract me, Dumbledore. I know what you're planning. You want me to forget that I let that … that…"

"Witch?" supplied Dumbledore.

"She-demon! I allowed that she-demon to attack Harry, twice!" Sirius kicked a chair in frustration.

The chair bounced against one of Dumbledore's bookshelves, knocking a vase of petunias and a miniature oil painting of some long ago astronomer onto the floor.

The astronomer made small, indignant noises. The vase shattered, and then heaved a sigh of resignation.

Sirius resumed his pacing.

"Now, Sirius, there is no evidence to suggest that Dr. Cressida Opal and the witch who impersonated the proprietor of the curio shop are the same person," Dumbledore said. Behind Sirius' back, Dumbledore summoned the miniature and examined it for damage.

"What? There's no evidence? Who are you trying to fool!?" Sirius bellowed. "Let's go over what we know again, shall we?" he started pacing and glared into Dumbledore's refreshment cabinet as if the liquor bottles were a jury that he had to win over.

"Who are we dealing with?" Sirius snapped.

"A witch of considerable talent and cunning," Dumbledore said. "I've seen many such come through these halls." He pulled off his spectacles and polished them. "Also, Hogwarts isn't the only school of witchcraft and wizardry, you know. She may not have been a student here."

Sirius gave a bark of laughter. "Maybe not, but I bet she was. Most of the truly gifted witches come here. We are dealing with a witch who is very intelligent and talented. She's good at winning people over… even in a short time."

"This witch managed to predict where Harry would have lunch, and to work out that he might go into a curio shop that he had never been in before." He whirled around. "Do you know why Harry and Ginny were interested in that shop?"

"A flyer was sent around Hogwarts, both before the curio shop opened and before that particular Hogsmeade visit." Dumbledore sighed. "I approved of the flyer."

"And why not? It's a perfectly respectable shop, it merely got subverted," Sirius said.

"I still should have…" Dumbledore began.

"Don't try to change the subject! It's my turn to castigate myself, you can have your turn later," Sirius said. He gave Dumbledore a grim smile. "Don't worry, I'll help."

Sirius continued with his rant. "Anyway, dear Cressida was tops in every one of her classes, including Divination and Arithmancy. She used to be Cho Chang's family medi-witch. She could have made an educated guess where Cho would take Harry. Plus, she had a tracking charm on Harry's glasses, remember that? That's what enabled that damned dragon to home in on him…"

Dumbledore held up his hands. "That's a rather large leap to make, Sirius," he said. "Cressida Opal would have no way of knowing that Harry and Cho would go to lunch. Nor would she have been able to predict that Harry would go into that shop."

"She could have had inside information!" Sirius bellowed. He hit the wall again. This time several of the portraits voiced their displeasure, including one of Sirius's great-grandfather, who was Hogwarts' least popular headmaster of all time.

"Sirius, please," Dumbledore said.

"Sorry," Sirius muttered. "Anyway, we have a witch who is good at predicting people, who is good at fooling people, who is good at manipulating people, and who used specially enchanted glass to do her dirty work…" he paused.

"Cressida Opal is not capable of taming a dragon," Dumbledore said. He waved his wand at the broken vase and it reformed and settled back on the bookcase. A second wave replaced the petunias.

"Well, we know she's not working alone!" Sirius exclaimed. "One of Voldemort's other little toads must have arranged for the dragon. We already know that!" Sirius went back to pacing and muttering. "I should have been here when that dragon attacked."

"You couldn't have helped. Our Defence teacher, Bill Weasley, was on the scene when the dragon arrived, and the staff arrived shortly after the attack started," Dumbledore said.

"If you want to condemn us for not being faster and for not protecting our students better, you have that right. However, don't try to claim you could have responded faster or more efficiently than the wizards and witches who were at the scene."

He gave Sirius a severe look. "That would be insulting to the staff and students of this school."

Sirius growled in frustration and kicked at a stool.

The stool leaped out of the way and bumped into a writing table. Unbalanced, Sirius staggered and grabbed at a chair to keep from falling.

The chair skittered to one side, causing Sirius to stagger into Dumbledore's favorite orrery.

The model of the solar system was sent crashing into the stool and the writing desk, which were petulantly kicking at each other.

The orrery bounced back, shedding comets as it jangled along. Annoyed, Sirius punted the model solar system across the room, sending the sun, the planets, and assorted moons clanging and clattering around the room like a pack of mini-Bludgers on a drunken rampage.

More crashes sounded as various heavenly bodies caromed off Dumbledore's collection of strange knickknacks and whirling what'sits.

Saturn's rings became entangled in some hostile books on a low end table. Pluto's moon, Charon, nearly toppled Fawkes' stand.

Fawkes gave an indignant squawk and fluttered over to the mantel. The model of Mercury bounced high enough to ricochet off of the Sorting Hat, eliciting a protest from that worthy piece of apparel.

Saturn's rings finally snapped, sending the modern model of a major planet crashing through a lampshade.

The planet Jupiter did the most damage. It managed to bowl over two telescopes. One of the telescopes toppled a small, round table that held an uncharmed hourglass, which promptly broke open and vomited its sand all over the carpet. The other telescope smashed into the glass fronted refreshment cabinet.

A decanter filled with two hundred and fifty year old Saurian Brandy and a bottle of Phoenix Phizzy Water tumbled out of the cabinet. Fawkes made a spectacular dive to save the Phoenix Phizzy, leaving the brandy to fall to the floor.

The decanter had an unbreakable charm on it, of course. Unfortunately, it rolled directly under the spot where the miniature sun had come to a halt. The heat from the merrily burning starlet caused the brandy to overheat and pop its cork.

The cork shattered the vase with the petunias, again, and the brandy glugged forlornly onto Dumbledore's three hundred year old Persian rug.

Dumbledore gave Fawkes a reproachful look. "You had to save the soft drink, didn't you?"

Fawkes made a rude, but rather smug, noise in response.

He settled onto the mantel, having decided that his perch wasn't safe at the moment. Then he started prying at the stopper of the Phoenix Phizzy.

Sirius rubbed his hip as he surveyed the destruction. The first thought that passed through his mind was that James would have been so proud of him. They'd never managed to get at Dumbledore's office, much less vandalize it.

"I think that perhaps you should go to the Hospital Wing," Dumbledore said. The Headmaster's usual serenity seemed a bit forced to Sirius.

James would have been really proud of him! He not only damaged Dumbledore's personal property, he got under Dumbledore's skin!

"I should have a present to take to him," Sirius said, looking around as if expecting a present to present itself.

"I'm sure that your presence is all that's required," Dumbledore said, his good humor returning. "Harry would be distressed if you were to place yourself in danger to buy him a present."

"Maybe I should pop over to that curio shop… what was the name of the real proprietress? Dizzy Doohickey?"

"Demelza Dofunny," Dumbledore sighed. "She was in Ravenclaw, three years behind you."

"Like I said, Dizzy Dofunny. I remember her from Quidditch. She took one too many Bludgers to the head, I think. Maybe I should renew our acquaintance," Sirius grinned wickedly.

"Sirius!" warned Dumbledore.

"Speaking of gifts, you did examine those glass figurines that Harry bought from the store, didn't you?" Sirius said, frowning.

"Yes, yes, of course," Dumbledore huffed. "Minerva, Filius and I went over them thoroughly."

"Filius?" Sirius asked. He scratched his head and tried to place the name.

"Professor Filius Flitwick," Dumbledore responded. "Our Charms professor and the head of Ravenclaw House."

"I knew that," Sirius said. "I just forgot his name for a minute. I always liked that man. Great sense of humor. I think I learned more from him than any other teacher. I'd like to see those glass figurines." Sirius jumped from one subject to another without pausing for breath.

"They have been returned to the curio shop."

"Then maybe I really do need to go there." There was a warning note in the Animagus' voice that told Dumbledore that Sirius was not joking.

"Sirius, you have to keep yourself safe," Dumbledore said sternly. "Harry needs you, and, as little as this will affect your decision, the rest of the wizarding world needs you."

"For what?" Sirius asked scathingly. "Target practice?"

"We need every defender we can get in these dark times," Dumbledore said gravely. "And you need to stay alive for yourself. If anybody has ever earned the right to a happy ending, it is you."

Sirius made a wry face. "Not much chance of that happening," he said.

"All the more reason not to take foolish chances," Dumbledore pointed out.

"Fortune favors the bold," Sirius said.

"Luck favors the prepared," Dumbledore said. "Plus, discretion is the better part of valor."

Sirius sighed and held up his hands in surrender. "All right, you've made your point. However, I still want to examine those figurines. At the very least, we can compare them to the fragments we recovered from the battle at St. Mungo's. That might settle the question of whether the false Dizzy was Cressida."

"I hadn't thought of that," Dumbledore admitted with some chagrin. "Very well, if they are that important to you, then I'll arrange for them to be brought back so you may examine them."

"I'll pay you," Sirius said in a more conciliatory tone. "The shop keeper deserves to get her money."

"I know you will pay for them," Dumbledore said.

He gave Sirius an ironic look. "For now, I suggest that you go to the Hospital Wing. I promise that Poppy won't try to hit you over the head with a bedpan this time."

Sirius rubbed the side of his head in remembrance. "Didn't you tell her that I was with the Order?" he complained.

"I did inform her that you were innocent, that you had never tried to kill Harry, and that you were working with me against Voldemort," Dumbledore's beard twitched.

"I believe the assault with the bedpan was in retaliation for several years ago."

"What?" Sirius said in astonishment. "We never pranked Madam Pomfrey… at least, not badly enough for her to remember it after all these years!"

"Do you remember the time that you and James saw fit to reduce the capacity of the bedpans to slightly less than a teaspoon?"

"Oh, but we only did that once… or twice…" Sirius protested. "Three times at the most."

"Still, as I recall, there was quite a... stink... shall we say? When the patients tried to use the bedpans." Dumbledore looked at Sirius sternly. "Not to mention the fact that it was highly uncomfortable for the patients."

Sirius tilted his head to one side as he pried the details of those particular pranks out of the morass that Azkaban had made of his memory. "I'm sure that we only pulled that stunt when all the patients were Slytherins!" he protested.

"That's not an adequate defence," Dumbledore said dryly. "By the way, I would recommend that you not remind Severus about that particular incident," Dumbledore said. "Remember, he's the one in charge of making Harry's potions."

Sirius' eyes narrowed. "You don't think that the slimy git would do something to Harry, do you?"

"No," Dumbledore paused. "Nothing that would cause lasting harm, I'm sure. However, there's the taste factor of these potions to take into consideration."

Sirius sighed. "I'll be good," he promised glumly.

"I expect you to set a good example for Harry," Dumbledore agreed.

Sirius shook his head, thinking that James would not be so proud of him. He stalked grandly toward Dumbledore's secret door, but his exit was ruined when he stepped on a small, greenish sphere and sat down… hard… on the brandy soaked rug.

"What the…?" Sirius swore and felt around for the offending object. His attempt to pick it up managed to roll it over to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore picked up the model planet, studied it for several minutes, and then grinned wickedly.

Sirius looked at the older wizard and the model (which was obviously one of the major planets). Dumbledore's twinkling eyes warned him of what was coming next.

"Don't say it," Sirius half-growled, half-pleaded.

Dumbledore's grin broadened. "I'm sorry, Sirius, but I'm afraid that you fell on Uranus."

Sirius sighed. "He said it." He dusted himself off, shook his long hair back over his shoulders, and finished stalking out of the room with as much dignity as he could muster under the circumstances.

Dumbledore looked at the model of Neptune in his gnarled hand and chuckled. "James would have been so proud of me."