[Podfic] Hope's Cottage by thewholeofthemoon

The Daily Prophet’s front-page headline for June 7, 1994 was so long that the article itself did not start until right above the fold:

SIRIUS BLACK WRONGLY ACCUSED – PETER PETTIGREW, TRAITOR AND DEATH EATER, ALIVE AND IN CUSTODY – EXONERATION TRIAL FOR BLACK ANNOUNCED STARTING JUNE 10, PETTIGREW'S TRIAL TO COME

The formally-infamous-now-merely-famous Sirius Black did not read the news that morning. He and Remus Lupin were fast asleep in Remus’ room. Well, it was Padfoot and Remus sleeping, the great black dog curled nose to tail against Remus’ back. As soon as they had entered Remus’ room, Remus had lit the fireplace and drunk the Wolfsbane Potion waiting for him on his desk. Sirius had watched, fascinated.

“How does it work?” He croaked.

Remus set the still-steaming goblet back on the desk, “I’ll explain it before nightfall. We both need our rest.”

He went to sit on the edge of his bed, joints cracking, but he watched Sirius, standing and fidgeting, his fingers into claws again. Remus would massage them back, he thought, I’ll do it every day, for as long as he needs.

“Are you alright?” He asked Sirius quietly, “Anything I can do?”

Sirius met his eyes balefully, “I…I need to sleep as Padfoot, I think.”

“Of course, Sirius,” Remus assured him.

Sirius exhaled heavily and then there in the room was a large but bony and haggard looking black dog. Remus bent to untie his laces and remove his shoes and outer robes as the dog climbed up on the bed. As Remus lifted the blankets and lay himself down, Padfoot nuzzled up against his back, he reached an arm and gently stroked the dog’s forehead, a steady and smooth rhythm. The dog’s deep breathing soon told him he was sleeping, and Remus removed his hand, and faded off to sleep himself.

Hermione Granger, did in fact, read the news that morning, and with all the exclamation and emphasis a headline entirely in capital letters required.

“June 10! That’s the day after term ends! The trial should only take a few days at most! Harry, that means—”

“Only a few short days at the Dursley’s,” Harry Potter smiled brightly, pouring brown sugar into his porridge.

“Blimey, Harry. You’re going to be moving in with Sirius Bloody Black!” Ron said, shaking his head, still in shock. He was propped up on pillows on a bed in the hospital wing, and Madam Pomfrey had allowed the trio to share breakfast.

“Where exactly will you be moving in to though, Harry?” Hermione asked, thoughtful.

“Sirius says he’s still got inheritance money waiting for him in Gringotts. Reckon he’ll find a decent place,” Harry answered absently. The particularities didn’t really interest him—he was leaving the Dursley’s and moving in with his godfather!!

Hermione chewed her lip, “It’ll have to be properly protected. I mean Pettigrew did say there were other Death Eaters out there—"

Ron noisily swallowed his pumpkin juice and cut her off, “Sure, sure, Hermione. But more importantly; reckon Madam Pomfrey will let me out for the feast tonight? Gryffindor’ll be winning the House Cup!”

Harry jumped on this new line of conversation, assuring Ron that he’d be able to attend the feast, “Dumbledore will have to let you,” he said, “You were instrumental in capturing Pettigrew!”

Ron’s cheeks blushed deep red, “Well…he had been living as my pet rat…”

And that reminder was so ridiculous and strange (and a bit creepy if they were all being honest) that Harry burst out laughing, and finally Hermione joined in. The trio spent the rest of breakfast exclaiming and laughing about all that the rat had seen during his tenure as Scabbers with the Weasley’s.

Later that day, as Harry and Hermione were on their way to fetch Ron for the feast—Madam Pomfrey had declared him fit enough to attend so there was no need to plead upon Dumbledore—Hedwig swooped down the long corridor and landed abruptly on Harry’s shoulder.

“Oh! Hi!” Harry said, surprised. She’d never delivered mail to him at Hogwarts outside of breakfast in the Great Hall. He took the small envelope from her carefully and she hooted, rubbing his cheek happily before flying off, back to the Owlery. Harry tore the envelope open quickly and showed the letter to Hermione so they could read it together.

Harry,

This is Professor Lupin writing – Sirius is with me, but it’s been a while since he’s used a pen and I’m afraid his handwriting is atrocious. Sirius will be staying in my quarters at Hogwarts until after the trial. I’m afraid until he’s properly cleared, he’ll only be able to appear as Padfoot, but it’s a Full Moon tonight, so we will have to see you tomorrow. We’ll talk more then. My regards to Ron and Hermione. Enjoy the feast; I think it was brilliant for Dumbledore to schedule it two days early. It’s been a dreary year with the Dementors at Hogwarts, and you all deserve some cheer.

RJL

“I hope he’ll be alright,” Hermione said, “The Full Moon, I mean.”

Harry smiled at her, “Don’t worry. He’s got Padfoot and the Wolfsbane.”

Harry and Hermione walked on either of side of Ron, still unsteady on his recently-healed leg, into the Great Hall that evening. They all beamed at the scarlet-and-gold decorations and joined the uproarious Gryffindor table. Harry had feared, being back around the other students, that the conversation might turn to Sirius, but the House Cup was a wonderful distraction and nobody mentioned the news throughout the meal.

“Moony?”

Remus opened his eyes, the last pains of the transformation leaving his body with only dull aches and shakes—no more breaking bones and the horrible shrinking sensation of the wolf returning to a man. He was laying on the cold stone floor of his quarters, Sirius’ head hovering above him.

“M’alright,” Remus mumbled, and reached with shaking arms for Sirius, who helped prop him up against his broad but still bony chest, throwing a blanket over his naked body.

“You were there—in the wolf—It was you,” Sirius croaked, “You’ll have to tell me what it was like.”

Remus smiled softly at him, his eyes drooping, “I will, Sirius…”

“Can you stand?” Sirius asked, suddenly anxious.

Remus nodded, and allowed Sirius to help him get to his feet, his whole body still racked with tremors. Sirius guided him to the bed and he fell upon it.

“You should eat, Sirius,” Remus mumbled from the pillows, “There’s still stew on the desk leftover from dinner…”

“I’ll eat when you do,” Sirius said, and Remus felt the bed move as Sirius lay against him, wrapping another blanket around their bodies.

“Alright?” Remus murmured. Sirius’ arm was now wrapped around Remus waist, pulling the taller man into his chest.

“Being Padfoot with Moony…with this new Moony…it helped,” Sirius whispered by his ear, “It really helped.”

“M’glad.”

“Sleep, Moony.”

There was no major news in the Daily Prophet on June 8 (just another article going more into depth about Sirius and Peter), but there was however, other news that did get mentioned at dinner the day before the students left for the Hogwarts Express.

Well, perhaps two bits of news.

First, there was Professor Lupin’s dog.

Harry had been nearly bouncing on the bench at the Gryffindor Table since he had basically dragged Hermione and Ron to dinner as early as possible, wanting to be there to watch the High Table fill out. Professor Lupin was, unfortunately for the trio’s punctuality, the last to arrive. He stepped out of the side door by the High Table looking pale and exhausted, but better than he had any of the days he had shown up for class post-Full Moon that term. And there at his hip, was a great shaggy black dog, its fur looked brush and slightly healthier than the last time the trio had seen it in the Shack.

“Woah, he’s got a dog!” Seamus Finnigan cried from across the table.

Heads turned in Professor Lupin’s direction, and Harry watched him place a hand on Padfoot’s shoulders, leaning slightly on the dog, as he took the stairs to the High Table. Once Professor Lupin was seated, he gave the dog a nod.

Mouths opened in shock as the huge dog bounded off the dais and went straight to the Gryffindor Table—straight to Harry. It wagged its tail and gave a doggy grin, nudging Harry’s hand with his head. Harry scratched the dog behind the ears, smiling hugely, “Hiya, Padfoot.”

The dog whinned and looked up at Harry with huge eyes full of affection.

“How come he likes Harry so much?” Dean Thomas said loudly from down the table, “I’m great with dogs! Come here, boy!”

The dog ignored him, nuzzling Harry’s hand again.

“Hey, Harry!” Fred Weasley called, “What gives? Is that Lupin’s dog?”

Harry gave him a cheeky grin and opened his mouth to speak, but just then there was a collective gasp of shock coming from the Slytherin Table.

The second bit of news had been broken.

Professor Snape was standing behind the table, and gave a curt nod and a shrug to the students which were gathered around him, mouths open and eyes wide, before sweeping out of the Great Hall in his typically bat-like dramatic fashion. The appalled and pale looking faces at the Slytherin Table all turned their heads from where Professor Snape had just exited, to the High Table. Beside him, Harry felt Padfoot stiffen and give a whine before darting back across the Great Hall, running up the steps and coming to Professor Lupin’s side.

Harry felt as if a stone had just dropped in his stomach.

The murmurings at the Slytherin Table were loud in the silent Hall, every table now watching them in confusion. Finally, it was Pansy Parkinson who stood on unsteady legs, her face white and eyes wide, pointing a finger toward the High Table, “Werewolf!” She cried.

The Slytherin Table rose in uproar—Harry saw Draco Malfoy’s face among them contorted in disgust—the green-tied students were glaring toward the High Table with a mix of fear and revulsion. Harry’s eyes darted back to Professor Lupin, who sat straight-backed, his face smooth but his eyes weary. At his side, Harry saw Padfoot had bit down on his tattered robes and was attempting to get his attention, trying to pull him out of the Great Hall.

The Great Hall was buzzing now.

“A werewolf! At Hogwarts??”

“Did you see where Pansy was pointing?”

“Did she mean…not Professor Lupin??”

“Hey—you three! You know who it is don’t you?”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s silence had apparently become conspicuous. Harry turned to face Lavender Brown, who was staring at the three of them unabashedly. In turn, it seemed the entire Gryffindor Table had turned to look at them.

“Er…” Ron stammered.

“Does it matter?” Harry said, glaring at anyone he could make eye contact with.

Lavender opened her mouth but another voice called out over the cacophony. “Silence, please,” Albus Dumbledore said from where he had risen from his chair at the center of the High Table.

Everyone quieted, waiting in anticipation for the explanation. But there was the sound of another chair scrapping back, and everyone—Dumbledore included—turned to watch Professor Remus Lupin rise on unsteady legs from the end of the High Table. Beside him, the black dog whined.

“Thank you, Headmaster,” Professor Lupin said, looking towards Dumbledore and bowing slightly. Slowly, but with shoulders high, he turned towards the four tables of students. His face was so pale that in the candlelight it made the faint lines and scars predominantly visible.

“I am a werewolf,” Professor Lupin said.

Harry Potter thought that he had never seen someone so brave or so strong in his entire life.

The collective gasp was louder this time, seeing as it came from three tables instead of just one, but immediately Dumbledore had raised his arms, a stern look on his face and the Great Hall hushed once more. Harry briefly glanced the students’ faces—shock, horror, disgust, or just plain confusion (most likely from the Muggle-borns)—but then focused on Professor Lupin, who still stood resolutely, although Harry saw him bring a hand back onto Padfoot’s shoulders and saw it was not just for comfort; Professor Lupin was putting real weight behind it.

“I am sure you all have many questions,” Dumbledore said mildly, “Your Head of House will be happy to answer them. Now, I bade you all enjoy our last dinner of the year.”

Dumbledore did not sit, however, but walked briskly up the High Table, Professor McGonagall at his heels, toward Professor Lupin. They spoke in a huddle, Professor Lupin still leaning on Padfoot.

“Blimey, a werewolf as our teacher!” Cormac McLaggen was saying, “A Dark Creature teaching us Defense Against the Dark Arts!”

“Oh, shut up, Cormac!!”

The Gryffindors received another great shock that evening as they turned to stare open-mouthed at Neville Longbottom, who was glaring daggers at Cormac.

“What, Longbottom?” Cormac McLaggen glared back, “It’s the truth!”

Neville’s neck and cheeks were red but he persisted, “He’s Professor Lupin, not a Dark Creature.”

“If all werewolves are bad, then all wizards are bad by the same logic,” Hermione asserted angrily, “It’s a disease; it can’t be helped. But we can help them.”

Harry was still watching the Professor’s huddle, and he saw Professor Lupin move towards the side exit door.

“He can’t leave! Not yet!” Harry cried without a second thought, jumping to his feet, “Professor Lupin!” He shouted over the noise, “Professor Lupin!”

The Great Hall shushed once more as everyone watched.

Professor Lupin and Padfoot, almost at the door, turned towards Harry.

“You’re the best Defense Against the Dark Arts professor we ever had!” Harry Potter implored.

Beside him, Hermione and Ron clamored to their feet, Hermione helping Neville clumsily stand. Down the Gryffindor Table, students were rising to stand: Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Ginny Weasley, Parvati Patil, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell, Fred and George Weasley, Lee Jordan, and Oliver Wood. And it wasn’t just the Gryffindor Table; Hufflepuffs were jumping to their feet—Harry recognized the Hufflepuff Quidditch captain Cedric Diggory, as well as Justin Finch-Fletchley, Ernie MacMillian, and Hannah Abbott. Ravenclaws were rising too—Anthony Goldstein, Padma Patil, and Cho Chang among them, as well as a white-blonde haired girl with owl-sized blue eyes who caught Harry’s attention out of the corner of his eye.

“Hear, hear for Professor Lupin!” Lee Jordan shouted, “THE BEST D.A.D.A. PROFESSOR HOGWARTS HAS HAD IN YEARS!”

Hands slammed the wooden tables or clapped in applause, feet stamped the ground, and voices cried out in “Hear, Hear for Professor Lupin!” and Harry watched as Professor Lupin bowed his head and brought his free hand up to his chest. When he lifted his brown-hair-streaked-with-grey head once more, his eyes were over-bright and a soft smile was spread across his tired face.