Professor McGonagall opened the door for Anthony, dressed in a tartan dressing gown and a hairnet. "Henry? What's—" "I'm terribly sorry, Minerva," Anthony said. "Sirius Black is missing. Professor Dumbledore sent me to tell you."
He watched as the news clicked into place in her mind. "Oh." Her eyebrows shot up. The last trace of sleep vanished from her expression. "No problem. I understand." She gave a sharp nod, stepped past him, and strode to a corner of the corridor. A portrait there depicted a woman with a feather in her hair and silk robes, dozing with her head propped on a small wooden table. "Notify the others," McGonagall told the painting. "Search the entire castle for Sirius Black." The lady in the portrait opened one eye and grumbled, "I can never keep these names straight…" "Sirius Black," McGonagall repeated, her voice crisp. "Black hair. Grey eyes. Adult wizard. Please do help." She fixed the painting with a stern look. "Fine, fine." The woman yawned behind her hand, stood, and vanished from the edge of the frame. "She will alert the others," McGonagall said, turning back. "I shall search the castle grounds. Any other leads?" "Sirius likely went to Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley," Anthony said, falling into step beside her. McGonagall frowned. "Very well… then, if you're willing to assist—" "Professor Dumbledore will be searching those locations himself." McGonagall's rigid posture loosened a fraction. "In the meantime, he's asked Professor Snape to… inquire… if Sirius might have been taken by Voldemort's—forgive me, the Dark Lord's—followers." "Severus?" McGonagall's step faltered. The frown returned. She thought for a moment, then shook her head. "Well. If Albus thinks it best… Henry, could you notify Hagrid? Have him take Fang and search the Forbidden Forest." "Of course." The castle doors rumbled open before McGonagall. Mrs. Norris, patrolling nearby, let out a harsh, disapproving yowl and shot away into the shadows. "If you find anything—" McGonagall paused. "If you find anything, or encounter danger, remember to send up red sparks. I will come immediately. You know how, correct?" Anthony couldn't help but smile. "Yes, Minerva, I know." "Good." She was already marching away, her voice floating back on the cold air. "Sneaking out of the hospital wing! He should know what trouble he's causing for everyone!"
Anthony took the path to Hagrid's hut. The night was pitch-black. No stars. No moon. No light from the hut's window. Fang, sleeping outside in the lee of the building, grumbled and whined in his dreams. He awoke with a start as Anthony approached, barking sleepily. A series of heavy thumps and crashes came from inside the hut. The Chimaera. "Fang, it's me. Easy." Anthony patted the great boarhound, then tapped on the window. "Hagrid? Hagrid! Are you there?" A disturbed snore was his only reply. "Hagrid! Wake up!" "Hmm? Wha'?" came Hagrid's bleary voice from within. "It's me, Henry! Sirius is missing! Minerva wants you to check the Forbidden Forest!" "Hrrrngh…" "Hagrid? Did you hear me?" "Nnngh…"
Anthony circled the hut twice. He stopped, placed a hand against the wooden wall, and closed his eyes. "Believe me, this isn't what I'd prefer," he muttered. His Necromancy senses located the bundles of dried meat hanging from the ceiling and the stash of Fang's treats. He gave the magic a sharp push— "OW!" Hagrid bellowed. "Wha'? Whassat noise?" Sounds of chaos erupted from inside the hut. Hagrid was finally scrambling out of bed. "Hagrid!" Anthony called, returning to the window and speaking over the sound of the Chimaera thudding against its crate. "Minerva needs you to check the Forbidden Forest. Sirius Black might be there. He's vanished." "Henry?" Hagrid said, sounding surprised. "Who's vanished?" The window swung open, revealing Hagrid's large, tousle-haired head. Fang happily shoved his muzzle forward, drool pattering onto the windowsill. The inside of the hut was a familiar chaos. The bed was piled with meat strips. Bones, chew toys, and smaller treats littered the floor. Stacked crates wobbled dangerously. Spiked tails poked between the slats, swatting at the air, trying to snag a piece of jerky. "Sirius," Anthony repeated. "Sirius Black. Minerva wants you to search the forest. Can you do that?" "'Course. No problem a'tall," Hagrid rumbled. "On m' way." He righted the crates with a shove, stuffed the swishing tails back inside, and used his foot to sweep Fang's scattered snacks aside. In three strides he was at the wall, grabbing his coat and crossbow. The window slammed shut. He emerged from the front door moments later, buttoning his coat, his enormous boots already on his feet. "Don't you worry, Henry," Hagrid said, untying Fang's chain from the side of the hut and patting the dog's head. "C'mon, Fang. We're lookin' for someone tonight." Fang looked back at the hut and its lingering scent of snacks, gave a wistful whine, then trotted after Hagrid.
…
Hagrid's swinging lantern vanished into the dark mass of the Forbidden Forest. Darkness settled again. Behind him, a few enticing lights glowed from the windows of Hogwarts Castle. From inside the hut came a persistent scritch-scratch—the Chimaera, still determined to fish a treat through the crate slats. "Lumos," Anthony whispered. A steady, pearly-white light bloomed from his wand tip, illuminating a small circle around him. At that moment, he heard Dumbledore's calm voice. "Henry." He turned. Dumbledore was approaching from the other end of the path. His silver hair, beard, and the intricate silver embroidery on his cloak shimmered in the wandlight. "Minerva has already tasked the portraits with searching the castle, sir," Anthony said, meeting him. "She's taking the grounds herself. Hagrid and Fang have gone into the forest…" "Excellent. Thank you, Henry," Dumbledore said. "And I trust you have a plan in mind, Severus…"
Anthony stepped closer. Only then did he notice Snape shadowing Dumbledore. The man's black robes melted into the night. Only his sallow face and the cold glint in his eyes marked his presence. "Is Sirius really that important, sir?" Anthony couldn't help but ask. "Important enough for the Dark Lord's followers to risk exposing themselves?" "No, Henry. As I said, it is merely my own suspicion and doubt," Dumbledore replied. "I am simply curious if our old friends have gathered strength in the shadows, strength I have failed to perceive… to the point where they no longer fear my scrutiny. After all, our former Defence Against the Dark Arts professor has also been missing for some time." Snape gave a soft, derisive snort. Anthony knew he still resented Dumbledore appointing Quirrell and Lockhart over him. "Still no word about Professor Quirrell… Quirrell?" Anthony asked. "Ah, I have formed some ideas on that matter," Dumbledore said. "I have sources of information… which is precisely why I find this curious…" His voice trailed off thoughtfully.
They walked in silence for a while, skirting the frozen Black Lake—Anthony wasn't sure why he followed, but Dumbledore's demeanor made it clear he was welcome—and passing the dark, silent Hogsmeade station. The station clock hung above the deserted platform, its hour hand pointing between one and two. A little further on, Hogsmeade village slept. Every light was out. Honeydukes, familiar and bright in his memory, was just another black outline among countless others. Apart from the white sheen of snow, the only light came from faint, flickering hearth-fires glowing behind lace curtains and shuttered windows in a few wizarding homes. "I shall begin my search in Hogsmeade," Dumbledore announced. "Henry, if I recall correctly, you have acquaintances in Diagon Alley?" "Yes. And I'm certain Tom is still awake," Anthony said. "Should I ask him if anything noteworthy happened this afternoon?" "That would be most helpful," Dumbledore said. "Severus—" "What is it, Dumbledore?" Snape said coldly. "Do take care," Dumbledore said with a small smile. Anthony frowned. "You're going to make inquiries now, Professor Snape? It's hardly a suitable hour for social calls." He didn't question who Snape would be asking. The answer was obvious. The man was Head of Slytherin and fit the storybook stereotype of a dark wizard—from his black robes to the large cauldron he used for brewing potions. If Snape claimed not to know anyone sympathetic to Voldemort, that would be strange. Snape glanced at him. "I believe I am perfectly aware of the time, Professor Anthony." Anthony was about to reply when Dumbledore made a soft, curious sound. "Ah," Snape said, halting. "Severus?" Dumbledore said. At the same time, Anthony felt two soft taps on his head. A cool sensation trickled down from his scalp. He looked down. He was covered by a Disillusionment Charm. Beside him, Dumbledore had already faded seamlessly into the darkness. "Unnecessary, Dumbledore," Snape said. He produced a hood from somewhere and pulled it over his head, then strode forward. Anthony felt Dumbledore give his sleeve a slight tug, and he followed them both, moving quietly.
At the end of the path stood another hooded wizard. He too wore black dueling robes. From a distance, he was nearly indistinguishable from the silent, dark treeline behind him. "Severus," the wizard said. His tone alone—smooth, aristocratic—marked him as a Slytherin. The voice was familiar, but Anthony couldn't quite place it. "I assumed you received my message," Snape said, his own voice carefully neutral. "I did. I saw it," the man replied, his tone equally smooth. "So I decided to wait. To see what caused this change of heart. Your previous… persuasions were rather different. The potions you brought to my home, Severus. The words you used to convince me and Narcissa. You know very well how sensitive the topic of Azkaban is for us…"
As he spoke, a strand of platinum-blond hair escaped his hood. Anthony finally recognized the voice. Lucius Malfoy. "I know, Lucius. I know," Snape said, his voice taking on a lazy, placating quality. "But circumstances change beyond our control. You may have heard… Dumbledore has petitioned the Ministry to destroy the Dark Lord's wand…" "Destroy his wand?" Malfoy's voice dropped. "I… have heard whispers of this. But are you certain, Severus?" Snape offered only an enigmatic silence. It seemed to be enough for Malfoy. The man paced a few steps, then seemed to reach a decision. "No, Severus. Absolutely not. You must—" "I must?" "If you knew the details, Severus…" "You seem to have information," Snape drawled. "You ask me for news, yet offer nothing in return." Malfoy hesitated. "No matter, Lucius. Keep your secrets," Snape said, a note of impatience creeping in. "I have no time for this in any case. This afternoon, Sirius Black—" he gave a short, cold laugh, "—your dear Narcissa's cousin, had a private conversation with Dumbledore. Consequently, I am forced to cancel plans long in the making. Surely you don't think I'm pleased about this?" "Sirius Black?" Malfoy said, sounding genuinely surprised. "You heard me, Lucius," Snape said. "Don't tell me your secret also involves that man." "No, it does not," Malfoy said quickly. Then, with a hint of sly satisfaction, he added, "You haven't heard? Black caused quite a scene in Diagon Alley this afternoon. Stormed out of some… fast-food place. Shouting. Throwing chips and lettuce everywhere."
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