Chapter 4: Why So Sirius?

Alison had been given the task of writing an entire essay on every magical creature ever known to have existed in the wizarding world. The only condition was that she could not take help from anyone. So Alison turned to the library instead, juggling between books for the entire night. Smith, Miranda, and Stewart were not happy about it, and they were determined not to let her detention go in vain. Snowman had grown considerably closer to Miss January after what had happened that morning, but he seemed to have forgotten the promise he had made them.

Snowman did not reach out to them the entire morning, while Alison remained buried in the library, reading page after page from every book on magical creatures she could find. She didn’t return to her dormitory, nor did she reach out to any of her friends, which was beginning to make them worried. Once the night had passed, Smith, Miranda, and Stewart made up their minds to visit her in the library first thing in the morning.

The next morning, they dressed immediately and rushed down to the library. The plan was to pick Alison up from there itself and take her to breakfast in the Great Hall. As soon as they entered, they could hear the sound of paper being folded echoing across the otherwise silent library, and they knew immediately that it was Alison—sleep-deprived and probably buried beneath a mountain of parchment. The three hurried towards the sound until they finally spotted her in the homework section. The librarian, Madame Flik, had been awake all night keeping an eye on Alison, and by now she looked irritated as hell.

“Hey, Aly? Are you alright?” Stewart called out, rushing towards Alison.

To their surprise, Alison was wide awake and happier than ever.

“Hey! I’m alright. This is so much more fun than I expected, guys!” she said with a spark of joy, as though she had finally discovered the thing she had always been searching for in life. The three stared at her, bewildered and confused by what they had just heard. If there was anyone who had always stayed as far away from academics as possible, it was Alison. Alison and books were like a cat and mouse trapped together in a cage.

“Are you the real Alison?” Stewart asked suspiciously. “Where are you hiding the real Alison? Are you a shapeshifter? Or—hey! Are you Karkaroff? Stop this, you punk!” Stewart grew genuinely worried.

Alison burst into laughter upon hearing this. “I know, right? This didn’t feel good to me at first either. Oh, and by the way, it’s not a shapeshifter. It’s a Boggart that changes its appearance. It transforms into the creature or person someone fears the most.”

The three were even more confused now, but at least they were assured that Alison was doing fine. Eventually, they convinced her to wrap up her essay and come to breakfast with them. Throughout breakfast, she wouldn’t stop telling them about the various fascinating creatures she had read about. The three were stunned. Alison had somehow become a genius overnight, almost as though someone had cast a spell on her. Once breakfast was over, she rushed straight into Professor Flamel’s office to submit her essay, wearing a wide grin. She thanked Professor Flamel, who calmly accepted it and told her that he had always known she had a knack for magical creatures. He had merely wanted to ignite that passion in her.

The group gathered once again during lunch when Smith finally spoke up. “Guys, it seems like Snowman has forgotten his promise. We need to go to his igloo and remind him again, I suppose. He’s the only one who can help us.” After finishing their lunch, the group of friends headed straight towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where Snowman’s igloo stood. The four knocked on the door, and Snowman let them in without asking any questions.

“I don’t know how I can thank you kids enough for what you did for me yesterday. And also—” Snowman poured orange juice into five glasses. “Alison, dear, I am extremely sorry for what you had to go through.”

“No worries, Professor. It was fun!” Alison replied with a huge smile. “By the way, Professor, you’re an Animatus.”

An awkward silence followed. Snowman looked particularly uncomfortable for a moment before clearing his throat and continuing. “Well… what do I owe the pleasure to, y’all?”

“Seems like it has melted from your memory, Professor,” Smith said firmly.

Snowman looked awkward again. “Uh… did I forget something? Let me recall.” He spent several seconds mumbling to himself before his face finally lit up. “Ah! You wanted to know what the first task is!”

Smith’s face brightened, and everyone immediately leaned forward with excitement.

“It’s Quidditch,” Snowman said simply, taking a sip of his juice.

“Don’t make jokes, Professor,” Stewart said.

“I’m not joking. It’s Quidditch,” Snowman defended himself.

“How can it be Quidditch? They asked us to make a team of four. Quidditch needs eleven players,” Smith argued.

“One Chaser, one Keeper, one Beater, and one Seeker. There you go—four players,” Snowman replied simply.

“How is that even possible in Quidditch?” Miranda exclaimed, utterly confused.

“Well, it’s the Triwizard Tournament. They can modify games. I saw them enchanting three goal hoops into a triangle on the grounds. It’s not visible to students, but teachers can see it,” Snowman said, defending his claim.

“Well, if that’s true, then this is going to be tough, George,” Stewart said.

“I know. Three Seekers and one Snitch… that’s too much to ask for,” Smith replied, his expression growing concerned.

“Hey! Lighten up. You’re all gonna be fine!” Snowman exclaimed.

“You haven’t even built a team,” Stewart pointed out.

“I have you guys. We are four,” Smith replied.

“I can’t play Quidditch. Alison can, but I’m not sure if she’s the best person to choose,” Miranda responded.

“Yes, George. I think you should choose the best of the best to build your team,” Alison agreed.

“I think I can be the Keeper,” Stewart said. “Harper is a great Chaser, and Marine Kingsley was on your team. I think she’ll make a great Beater.”

“I agree,” Alison said.

Smith sat silently with a tense expression. He thought about it for a while, looking between his friends before finally saying, “Alright.”

Their faces lit up. Smith looked around at all of them and finally allowed himself a smile.

“Well, it’s time to prepare!”

Edward Black landed safely in a lonely forest in the dead of night, illuminated by little more than the pale moon above. Peter, sitting behind him, had his hair completely blown out of shape from the long journey through the air, but he had thoroughly enjoyed every second of it. He climbed off the broom after Black, placing his feet on the cold forest ground.

“This was the best broom ride of my life, Professor!” Peter exclaimed joyfully.

“That’s what I do regularly, kid,” Black bragged.

The two began looking around the empty, dark, isolated forest, but found no sign of any shack—or, thankfully, a monstrous giant.

“Come on. Let’s find the lake. The shack is supposed to be by the lake,” Black said.

Peter and Black headed deeper into the forest in search of it. For nearly an hour, the two walked endlessly through the woods, trying to make as little noise as possible so they wouldn’t attract the attention of any wild animal—or perhaps, a monstrous giant. Eventually, through the trees in the distance, they noticed a strange golden-orange glow, flickering as though something was burning.

“Professor, look,” Peter said, pointing towards the light. “Could be some villagers camping. Maybe we should ask them.”

“I agree,” Black said.

“And I believe you’ll also agree that riding a broom won’t attract any attention. I’m sore after walking for so long, Professor,” Peter requested.

Black gave Peter a strange look before mounting his broom and gesturing for him to climb on behind. Peter happily jumped aboard, and the two shot through the trees towards the glowing light.

The light grew brighter and brighter as they approached. But when they finally reached it, they discovered that it wasn’t a campfire at all. The forest itself was burning. Black stopped his broom in mid-air and slowly looked around. Trees were engulfed in bright orange flames, and several dead animals lay scattered across the ground below. Something was terribly wrong with this place. Black carefully turned the broom in every direction, examining the devastation around them. Peter had gone completely silent.

“Professor… I think something is wrong,” Peter said slowly.

A deep, vibrating grunt suddenly echoed from somewhere nearby.

“I think everything is wrong!” Black exclaimed as an enormous human-like figure began emerging from the depths of the burning forest. With every heavy step it took, the figure appeared larger and larger through the smoke.

“GIANT!” Peter screamed at the top of his lungs.

Black immediately spun the broom around and fled at the fastest speed he could manage.

But the Giant was a Giant.

Its enormous hand shot forward and pinched the end of the broom in mid-air, leaving Black and Peter suspended helplessly as they struggled to move forward. Black pushed the broom with everything he had while Peter clung tightly to him. Suddenly, the wooden end snapped. The two were thrown from the broom and crashed painfully onto the ground. Peter struggled to rise while Black forced himself back onto his feet, pulling Peter up with him. The Giant stared down at them and released a tremendous roar that seemed to shake the entire forest.

The two started running.

The Giant stepped forward, and the ground trembled beneath them. Black and Peter struggled to keep their balance as they ran across the shaking earth. In one hand, the Giant carried an enormous log of wood, which it suddenly swung towards them, attempting to wipe them straight off the forest floor. Black saw it coming. He grabbed Peter tightly in his arms and pointed his wand towards the ground, casting a spell that launched them high into the air just as the log swept beneath their feet.

Black repeated the move twice more as the Giant furiously swung the log at them. On the third attempt, however, Peter lost his grip on Black and was thrown in the opposite direction.

The Giant noticed.

It immediately began charging towards Peter.

With no other choice, Black pointed his wand at Peter and cast a Levitation Charm, lifting him rapidly into the air. The Giant was about to smash an entire tree down upon Peter when Black swung him through the air, narrowly pulling him away from disaster. Furious, the Giant raised its log high above its head and attempted to strike Peter from above. Black quickly moved Peter in the opposite direction, dropping him onto the branch of another tree. Peter caught the branch with both hands and hung beneath it before using the strength of his arms to swing himself upwards and climb safely on top.

The Giant delivered another brutal blow towards the tree Peter was sitting on. Black caught Peter in mid-air once again, pulling him through the air towards himself before the tree shattered beneath him.

“Professor! It’s time to attack him!” Peter shouted.

“What? He’s a Giant! We can’t attack him!” Black shouted back.

“I have an idea! I’ll draw him towards us, and when he starts moving in our direction, use Accio to bring all the trees he’s broken towards us. They’ll hit him from behind!”

“Brilliant, Harrow!” Black shouted.

Peter quickly picked up a rock from the ground and hurled it at the Giant.

The stone struck it.

The Giant, which had been searching for Peter through the smoke, finally spotted him and immediately began charging towards him. Peter and Black turned and ran while the Giant followed behind them, taking enormous strides that shook the ground with every step.

“Professor! Now!” Peter shouted.

“Accio Trees!”

The fallen trees suddenly rose from the forest floor and soared into the air. One after another, they began hurtling at full speed towards Peter and Black. The Giant continued charging forward, completely unaware of what was approaching from behind.

Then the trees struck.

A massive collection of trunks slammed into the back of the Giant’s head with tremendous force. It had never been struck that hard before.

The trees scattered after the impact, crashing back onto the ground as the Giant groaned in agony. Black and Peter stopped running and turned around. The Giant clutched the back of its head with both hands. Blood trickled between its enormous fingers as it staggered forward.

Then its knees struck the earth.

THUD!

The Giant collapsed onto the ground.

Another tremendous thud echoed throughout the burning forest before everything finally became still.

Peter and Black stood there, breathing heavily.

They were safe.

“Praise the Lord,” Black said between breaths.

Peter was too exhausted to reply.

The shack was close now.

Peter and Black could see it from a distance, standing alone beside the lake under the moonlight. Neither of them spoke as they approached it. After everything they had gone through to get here, there was something unsettling about finally seeing the place with their own eyes.

The shack looked as though nobody had lived there for decades. Much of the wood had rotted away, patches of mould covered the walls, and the front door hung crooked from its hinges. Only a few steps beyond it lay the lake, completely still beneath the night sky.

Peter stopped in front of the entrance.

“This is definitely the sort of place where a ghost would live.”

“Well, don’t be scared,” Black said confidently. “I’m with you.”

He immediately took a step backwards.

“After you.”

Peter gave him a disappointed look.

“Very reassuring, Professor.”

He pushed the broken door open and stepped inside.

The shack was even worse from within. Moonlight entered through the broken windows and gaps in the wooden roof, providing the only light inside. Old tables and chairs stood covered in dust, dirt and mould, while shattered bottles and beer glasses were scattered across the floor.

Black looked around.

“Seems like Salazar’s been partying.”

Peter smiled despite himself.

The two began searching the shack. They checked the living room first, then what remained of the kitchen, followed by every other room they could find. Each creak of the floorboards made them stop. Every moving shadow caught their attention. More than once, Peter turned around believing he had seen something standing behind him, only to find Black staring back.

There was no ghost.

There wasn’t even the slightest indication that Salazar Slytherin had ever been there.

Eventually, they ran out of places to search.

With nothing else to do, Peter and Black sat on the floor and waited. If the stories were true, perhaps Salazar’s spirit would reveal itself when it wanted to.

An hour passed.

Then another.

Nothing happened.

The lake remained silent outside, the shack remained empty, and the legendary spirit of Salazar Slytherin appeared to have no interest in helping them.

Peter sat with his knees raised, staring at the moonlight falling across the floor.

“Do you remember, Professor?”

Black looked at him.

“First year. When we fought.”

Black’s mouth curled into a smile.

“You levitated me the same way you did today,” Peter continued.

Black laughed. “You were so little. And ridiculously overconfident.”

Peter started laughing too.

“The only difference,” Black added, “is that back then I was banging you against trees. Today I was trying to save you.”

“That’s certainly an improvement.”

Their laughter echoed through the empty shack.

For a brief moment, neither of them thought about Peter’s missing powers, the giant outside, Salazar Slytherin or what they would do if this journey failed.

They were simply a teacher and his student remembering something stupid that had happened years ago.

Black shook his head, still smiling. “I have to give you credit, though. If it weren’t for your plan today, we’d probably both be dead.”

“You taught me everything, Professor,” Peter replied. “You’ve been there for me since our first class.”

Black’s smile slowly faded.

He looked at Peter for a moment before turning towards the broken window.

“Peter… do you remember something I asked you in your first year?”

Peter waited.

“I asked what you would do if you ever met your father again.”

Peter remembered.

Black continued quietly. “You said you’d punish him as much as you could for leaving you. And then you’d hold him so tightly that he could never leave you again.”

Peter looked at him.

There was a slight shine in Black’s eyes now.

“Well,” Black said, giving a faint smile, “I think I would’ve done the same if I ever got to see my father again.”

For a moment, neither spoke.

Peter lowered his eyes.

“I can’t punish mine anymore.”

“No,” Black said softly.

Peter remained quiet before asking, “Do you think there’s any chance Mum will accept me leaving Hogwarts this year?”

Black took his time answering.

“For your mother, it will be hard.”

Peter looked at him.

“Very hard, actually. And I think you have to respect that.”

“How can I respect it, Professor?” Peter asked. “If Dad were alive, he wouldn’t want me spending my life doing something I never wanted to do. He was a dueller himself. He would’ve loved seeing his son follow in his footsteps.”

Black listened without interrupting.

Then a slight smirk appeared on his face.

“You remember what Dumbledore once said in Harry Potter’s dream?”

Peter raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t pity the dead. Pity the living.”

Peter gave him a thoughtful look.

Black stared ahead for several seconds.

Something had changed in his expression.

He looked around the empty shack one final time, almost as though he were waiting for Salazar Slytherin to appear and stop him from making whatever decision had just entered his mind.

Nothing happened.

Black slowly stood.

“Alright.”

Peter looked up.

“Let’s do this.”

Black reached beneath his robes and pulled out his wand.

Peter’s expression changed when Black pointed it directly at him.

He immediately stood.

“What are you doing, Professor?”

“There is no other way, Peter. We’ve searched everywhere. We’ve waited for hours. I don’t think this ghost is coming.”

Peter stared at the wand.

Then he understood.

“No.”

Black didn’t lower it.

“I’ll transfer my powers to you.”

Peter shook his head immediately.

“No. Professor, no.”

“Peter—”

“You cannot do this.”

His voice had already begun to tremble.

“You don’t need to do this. I’ll find another way. We’ll find another healer, we’ll come back tomorrow, we’ll search somewhere else—but you cannot do this.”

“Peter.”

“I won’t be able to forgive myself!”

Black’s expression remained calm.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve lived enough, Peter. I’ve seen enough. And I’m your teacher.”

“So what?” Peter shouted.

Black paused.

“So what if you’re my teacher? That doesn’t mean you have to give up your entire life for me!”

“My entire life?”

Black almost smiled.

“Peter, magic isn’t my entire life.”

Peter stared at him.

Black stepped closer, keeping his wand raised.

“You were born to be a wizard. You need this more than I do. I’ve taught hundreds of students over the years, and I’ve never met anyone quite like you.”

Peter shook his head, tears beginning to gather in his eyes.

“You’re clever. You’re stubborn. Far too confident for your own good.”

A small laugh escaped Black despite the tears forming in his own eyes.

“But you’re strong. And I’ve seen what you’re capable of. I’ve seen what you can become.”

“Please, Professor.”

Peter’s voice had fallen to a whisper.

A tear rolled down his cheek.

Black looked at him for a long moment. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter.

“And more than any of that… you’re the only real friend I’ve ever had.”

Peter’s face broke.

Black smiled at him through wet eyes.

There was no sadness in that smile. It carried every argument they had ever had, every lesson, every duel, every stupid joke and every dangerous situation they had somehow survived together. Peter had entered his life as an irritating little student. Somewhere along the way, without either of them noticing exactly when, he had become something far more important.

Peter was crying openly now.

“Please don’t.”

Black’s hand trembled slightly around his wand.

“Bless you, kid.”

A tear slipped down his face.

“Potentia Transfundere!”

A brilliant bolt of blue-white light erupted from Black’s wand and struck Peter directly in the chest.

Peter screamed.

The force pushed him backwards, but he remained standing as the light surrounded his body. A sharp pain tore through his chest, unlike anything he had felt before, and tears streamed down his face as he struggled to breathe.

Black tightened his grip on the wand.

Almost immediately, he felt his strength leaving him.

His fingers began to tremble. His arm weakened, but he forced himself to keep the wand raised. The blue-white stream continued flowing between them, growing brighter as Black struggled against his failing body.

Peter could see him weakening.

“Professor—”

Black didn’t stop.

The pain in Peter’s chest slowly began to fade. In its place came something else—a warmth spreading through his body, running through his arms and into the tips of his fingers.

Something familiar.

The light began to weaken.

Black’s wand slipped slightly in his hand.

Then the spell disappeared.

The wand fell from his fingers and struck the floor.

Black collapsed beside it.

“PROFESSOR!”

Peter rushed towards him and dropped to his knees.

Black lay on the floor, breathing heavily. For a terrifying few seconds, Peter couldn’t tell whether he was alright. He lifted Black slightly and held him as the professor struggled to catch his breath.

“Professor? Professor, look at me!”

Black finally breathed deeply.

“I’m alright,” he murmured. “I’m alright.”

Peter helped him sit up.

Black looked around the shack strangely. His eyes moved across the broken roof, the mould-covered walls, his wand lying uselessly on the floor, and finally towards Peter.

Then he smiled.

“It’s gone.”

Tears began running down his cheeks again, but this time he laughed with them.

“I’m free.”

Peter didn’t know whether to smile or cry.

Then he felt it.

A faint sensation in his fingers.

Peter slowly stood, and Black managed to rise with him.

“Cast a spell,” Black said.

Peter hesitated.

He reached into the back pocket of his trousers and pulled out his wand.

The moment his fingers wrapped around it, he felt the familiar tingling again.

The stranger was gone.

Peter raised the wand.

“Lumos Maxima.”

Light exploded from its tip.

The entire shack was flooded with brilliant white light, brighter than Peter had ever seen his wand glow before. Every broken table, every mould-covered wall and every corner of the abandoned shack became visible beneath it.

Black stared at him, his exhausted face filling with joy.

Peter looked down at the glowing wand in disbelief. It took him several seconds to truly understand what had happened.

Then he looked at Black.

A wide smile spread across his tear-covered face.

Peter was a wizard again.