Right Now Could Last Forever

Sirius led us to the very foot of the mountain, where the ground was covered with boulders and rocks. It was easy for him, with his four paws, but we were soon out of breath. We followed Sirius higher, up onto the mountain itself. For nearly half an hour we climbed a steep, winding and stony path, following Sirius’ wagging tail, sweating in the sun. I picked the hair-tie I always had on my wrist (but never used) and tied up my long hair.

Then, at last, Sirius slipped out of sight, and when we reached the place where he had vanished, we saw a narrow fissure in the rock. We squeezed into it, and found ourselves in a cool, dimly lit cave. Tethered at the end of it, one end of his rope around a large rock, was Buckbeak the Hippogriff. Half-grey horse, half-giant eagle, Buckbeak’s fierce orange eye flashed at the sight of us. All four of us bowed low to him, and after regarding us imperiously for a moment, Buckbeak bent his scaly front knees and allowed me to rush forward and stroke his feathery neck.

Sirius, now being in his human form again, was wearing ragged grey robes; the same one he had been wearing when he had left Azkaban. His black hair was long, untidy and matted once more. He also looked very thin.

“Chicken!” he said hoarsely, after removing the old Daily Prophets from his mouth and throwing them down onto the cave floor.

Harry pulled open his bag and handed over the bundle of chicken legs and bread.

“Thanks,” said Sirius, opening it, grabbing a drumstick, sitting down on the cave floor and tearing off a large chunk with his teeth. “I’ve been living off rat mostly. Can’t steal too much food from Hogsmeade; I’d draw attention to myself.”

He grinned up at Harry.

“What’re you doing here, Sirius?” he said.

“Fulfilling my duty as godfather,” said Sirius, gnawing on the chicken bone in a very dog-like way. “Don’t worry about me, I’m pretending to be a loveable stray.”

He was still grinning, but seeing the anxiety in Harry’s face, said more seriously, “I want to be on the spot. Your last letter... well, let’s just say things are getting fishier. I’ve been stealing the paper very time someone throws one out, and by the looks of things, I’m not the only one who’s getting worried.”

He nodded at the yellowing Daily Prophets on the cave floor, and Ron picked them up and unfolded them.

“What if they catch you? What if you’re seen?”

“You four and Dumbledore are the only ones round here who know I’m an Animagus,” said Sirius, shrugging, and continuing to devour the chicken leg.

Ron nudged me, and passed me the Daily Prophets. There were two; the first bore the headline Mystery Illness of Bartemius Crouch, the second, Ministry Witch Still Missing – Minister of Magic Now Personally Involved.

I looked down the story about Crouch. Phrases jumped out at me: ‘hasn’t been seen in public since November... house appears deserted... St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies decline comment... Ministry refuses to confirm rumours of critical illness...’

I passed the paper over to Harry.

“They’re making it sound like he’s dying,” I said slowly. “But he can’t be that ill if he managed to get up here...”

“My brother’s Crouch’s personal assistant,” Ron informed Sirius. “He says Crouch is suffering from overwork.”

“Mind you, he did look ill, last time I saw him up close,” said Harry slowly, still reading the story. “The night my name came out of the Goblet...”

“Getting his comeuppance for sacking Winky, isn’t he?” said Hermione coldly. She was stroking Buckbeak, who was crunching up Sirius’ chicken bones. “I bet he wishes he hadn’t done it now – het he feels the difference now she’s not there to look after him.”

“Hermione’s obsessed with house-elves,” Ron muttered to Sirius, casting Hermione a dark look.
Sirius, however, looked interested. “Crouch sacked his house-elf?”

“Yeah, at the Quidditch World Cup,” said Harry, and he launched into the story of the Dark Mark’s appearance, and Winky being found with Harry’s wand clutched in her hand, and Mr Crouch’s fury.
When Harry had finished, Sirius was on his feet again, and had started pacing up and down the cave. “Let me get this straight,” he said after a while, brandishing a fresh chicken leg. “You first saw the elf in the Top Box. She was saving Crouch a seat, right?”

“Right,” we all said together.

“But crouch didn’t turn up for the match?”

“No,” I said. “I think he said he’d been too busy.”

Sirius paced all around the cave in silence. Then he said, “Harry, did you check your pockets for your wand after you’d left the Top Box?”

“Erm...” Harry thought hard. “No,” he said finally. “I didn’t need to use it before e got in the forest. And then I put my hand in my pocket, and all that was in there were my Omnioculars.” He stared at Sirius. “Are you saying whoever conjured the Mark stole my wand in the Top Box?”

“It’s possible,” said Sirius.

“Winky didn’t steal that wand!” said Hermione shrilly.

“The elf wasn’t the only one in that box,” said Sirius, his brow furrowed as he continued to pace. “Who else was sitting behind you?”

“Loads of people,” said Harry. “Some Bulgarian ministers... Cornelius Fudge... the Malfoys...”
“The Malfoys!” said Ron suddenly, so loudly that his voice echoed all around the cave, and Buckbeak tossed his head nervously. “I bet it was Lucius Malfoy!”

“Anyone else?” said Sirius.

“No one,” said Harry.

“Yes, there was, there was Ludo Bagman,” Hermione reminded him.

“Oh, yeah...”

“I don’t know anything about Bagman, except that he used to be Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps,” said Sirius, still pacing. “What’s he like?”

“He’s OK,” said Harry. “He keeps offering to help me with the Triwizard Tournament.”

“Does he, now?” said Sirius, frowning more deeply. “I wonder why he’d do that?”

“Says he’s taken a liking to him,” I said.

“Hmm,” said Sirius, looking thoughtful.

“We saw him in the forest just before the Dark Mark appeared,” Hermione told Sirius. “Remember?” she said to Harry and Ron.

“Yeah, but he didn’t stay in the forest, did he?” said Ron. “The moment we told him about the riot, he went off to the campsite.”

“How d’you know?” Hermione shot back. “How d’you know where he Disapparated to?”

“Come of it,” said Ron incredulously, “are you saying you reckon Ludo Bagman conjured the Dark Mark?”

“It’s more likely he did it than Winky,” said Hermione stubbornly.

“Told you,” said Ron, looking meaningfully at Sirius, “told you she’s obsessed with house-“

But Sirius held up a hand to silence Ron. “When the Dark Mark had been conjured, and the elf had been discovered holding Harry’s wand, what did Crouch do?”

“Went to look in the bushes,” said Harry, “but there wasn’t anyone else there.”

“Of course,” Sirius muttered, pacing up and down, “of course, he’d want to pin it on anyone but his own elf... and then he sacked her?”

“Yes,” said Hermione in a heated voice, “he acked her, just because she hadn’t stayed in her tent and let herself get trampled –“

“Hermione, will you give it a rest with the elf!” Ron said.

But Sirius shook his head and said, “She’s got the measure of Crouch better than you have, Ron. If you want to know what a man’s like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.”

He ran a hand over his unshaven face, evidently thinking hard. “All these absences of Barty Crouch’s... he goes to the trouble of making sure his house-elf saves him a seat at the Quidditch World Cup, but doesn’t bother to turn up and watch. He works very hard to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament, and then stops coming to that, too... it’s not like Crouch. If he’s never taken a day off work because of illness before this, I’ll eat Buckbeak.”

“D’you know Crouch, then?” I said.

Sirius’ face darkened. He suddenly looked as menacing as the night when I had first met him, the night when I had still believed Sirius to be a murder.

“Oh, I know Crouch all right,” he said quietly. “He was the one who gave the order for me to be sent to Azkaban – without a trial.”

“What?” Hermione, Ron and Harry said together.

“You’re kidding!” I said.

“No, I’m not,” said Sirius, taking another great bite of chicken. “Crouch used to be Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, didn’t you know?”

We shook our heads.

“He was tipped as the next Minister of Magic,” said Sirius. “He’s a great wizard, Barty Crouch, powerfully magical – and power-hungry. Oh, never a Voldemort supporter,” he said, reading the look on Harry’s face. “No, Barty Crouch was always very outspoken against the Dark side. But then a lot of people who were against the Dark side... well, you wouldn’t understand... you’re too young...”

“That’s what my dad said at the World Cup,” said Ron, with a trace of irritation in his voice. “Try us, why don’t you?”

A grin flashed across Sirius’ think face. “All right, I’ll try you...”

-

“It’s half past three,” I said.

“You’d better get back to school,” Sirius said, getting to his feet. “Now, listen...” he looked particularly hard at Harry – “I don’t want you lot sneaking out of school to see me, all right? Just sent notes to me here. I still want to hear about anything odd. But you’re not to go leaving Hogwarts without permission, it would be an ideal opportunity for someone to attack you.”
“No one’s tried to attack me so far, except a dragon and a couple of Grindylows,” Harry said.

But Sirius scowled at him. “I don’t care... I’ll breathe freely again when this Tournament’s over, and that’s not until June. And don’t forget, if you’re talking about me among yourselves, call me Snuffles, OK?”

He handed Harry the empty napkin and flask, and went to pat Buckbeak goodbye. “I’ll walk to the edge of the village with you,” said Sirius, “ see if I can scrounge another paper.”

He transformed into the great black dog before we left the cave, and we walked back down the mountainside with him, across the boulder-strewn ground, and back to the stile. Here he allowed each of us o pat him on the head, before turning and setting off at a run around the outskirts of the village.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and I made our way back into Hogsmeade, and up towards Hogwarts.
“Wonder if Percy knows all that stuff about Crouch?” I said, as we walked up the drive to the castle. “But maybe he doesn’t care... it’d probably just make him admire Crouch even more. Yeah, Percy love rules. He’d just say Crouch was refusing to break them from his own son.”

“Percy would never throw any of his family to the Dementors,” said Hermione severely.

“I don’t know,” said Ron. “If he thought we were standing in the way of his career... Percy’s really ambitious, you know...”

WE walked up the stone steps into the Entrance Hall, where the delicious smells of dinner wafter towards us from the Great Hall.

“Poor old Snuffles,” I said, breathing deeply. “He must really like you, Harry... imagine having to live off rats.