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The Reverend’s Manse


The air was cold, the snow pelting them, but the motorbike made it’s way across Scotland, over the forests and moors and following the coastline, the thick clouds wrapping around them. “It’s as far north as you can go on the mainland,” Minnie told him. And so he drove and he drove, feeling her clutching onto him. In all of his life, in all of the things that Sirius Black did - or would do - he never felt as important as he did carrying her away to Faere Dhu. He didn’t know why she needed to go to this funny sounding place, or what she would do there, but he would bring her there, hell or high water, whatever it took.

It was afternoon before they arrived, a strange sort of misty fog coating the world as they landed, the sun already going down… Sirius thought fleetingly of Remus and wondered if he was angry with him for not coming back from detention, and he realized he should’ve told somebody to tell Remus, but it was too late now. The motorbike rolled through the streets of a small village, past houses and businesses, past snow banks, people staring as the motorbike struggled to stay balanced on slippery snow. McGonagall’s teeth chattered and Sirius asked, “Where do we go?”

“Up this lane,” she replied, pointing.

Sirius drove, and the motorbike left the village, heading west along a little lane that was lined with woods and moors and then McGonagall had a sharp inhale of breath and her voice shook as she commanded, “Here. Turn here.”

Sirius turned and they rumbled up a long drive and they broke through a cluster of trees to find a farmhouse - old and poor in appearance, the walkway shoveled out neatly, and childrens’ prints in the snow - a tall snowman in the yard with an old Hufflepuff scarf tied about it’s neck, coal for eyes, and a pipe. There was a tall barn with a weathervane on top and Sirius saw an owl on the roof of the porch, fluffing his feathers against the cold.

The motorbike came to a stop behind an old olive-coloured car and Minerva sat silently behind him a moment as Sirius took off his helmet and shook out his hair, staring up at the house and wondering what this place was. He slid off the bike, kicking the stand down and offered a hand to Minnie, who allowed him to help her off the motorbike. She looked so surprisingly natural climbing off the bike that Sirius raised an eyebrow in awe at her and remembered the photos of her and Charlus Potter together in the alcove off the Trophy Room Passageway, where she’d been wearing Quidditch gear and holding a broomstick and for the first time in six years he could actually imagine Minerva McGonagall being the star of the pitch, being a queen of the Quidditch matches she played in.

She unclipped her helmet and waved her wand to fix her braid atop her head in a bun and she stared up at the house with wide, watery eyes.

“What is this place, Min?” Sirius asked.

“This is the Reverend’s manse of Faere Dhu.” She paused, then, “It’s where I grew up, Mr. Black.”

Sirius looked around, the whole scene suddenly a bit more interesting, the creaky weathervane swaying in the breeze that ruffled his hair. He tugged his leather jacket closer to himself.

The door of the house opened then and a tall, thick man with a dark red beard and long red hair to match came from inside. He wore black trousers and a black oxford and a small square of white on the collar and Sirius realized this was the Reverend whose manse it was. The Reverend walked across the porch, his eyes watering up as he saw Minerva and he hurried down the walkway. “Minnie!” he said “Minnie!”

“Malcolm!” she replied, and the two collided and Sirius realized this was the man who had sent the owl, by what Minnie had said back in her office, and he watched as they embraced, as Minerva McGonagall hugged him tightly and kissed his rough, hairy cheek.

Sirius dawdled uncomfortably behind them.

“And who is this?” Malcolm asked, spotting Sirius as Minerva pulled away.

“This is Sirius Black,” Minerva replied, “He’s given me a ride to Faere Dhu from Hogwarts. He is one of my favorite students. Sirius, this is the Reverend Malcolm McGonagall… my younger brother.”

Sirius held out his hand, “Hullo sir.”

Malcolm smiled. “Hello Sirius Black.”

Minerva turned to Malcolm. “Tell me what’s happened to Dougal. Are we in time?”

“As far as I know, Minnie,” Malcolm replied. “Come inside. Come inside… Halley’s just made stew, it will warm you up after such a long journey through this horrible snow. Come in.”

Minerva looked reluctant to go, but they stepped inside as Malcolm ushered them, his eyes scanning the sky as he pulled the door closed. Inside, the ceilings were shorter than Sirius would have expected, so much so that the tall Malcolm had to duck beneath doorways though he colud stand upright in the rooms once he’d got into them. The air smelled of lamb and carrots and mushrooms and Malcolm led them into a small dining-kitchen area where thick bushes of herbs and vegetables hung from the ceiling and baskets and barrels of nuts and grains lined the walls. There was a table with a high chair and five highbacked seats about it, and on a black iron stove sat a huge pot with a spoon still stirring its contents.

Malcolm reached into his long reverend’s robes and withdrew a blackwood wand with a bit of a curve to it and he waved it at the windows, closing shutters and then to the cupboard, where two bowls with thick handles came out and stew was ladled into each and thick hunks of bread came from the counter and Malcolm waved them into a seat at the table.

Minerva was shaking as she sat and Sirius sat beside her and he realized at the smell of it just how bloody famished he was. The lamb stew was thick and lovely and he could feel the weight and warmth of it in his belly and it felt incredibly comforting and he looked up at Minnie and, quoting his boyfriend, he said, “Eat, you’ll feel better.”

“Wise words if I ever heard them,” Malcolm said, smiling. “Halley’s run upstairs to freshen up, panicked a bit when she realized you were here. She wants to make a fine first impression.”

Minerva stared at Malcolm with a pained expression, “Oh Malcolm. Please. What’s happened to Dou?”

Malcolm took a deep breath, “Min… I’m not sure the exact details. I was here last night, working on the sermon for tomorrow, and I got a patronus from Robbie…” he paused and looked at Sirius, “Robbie’s our kid brother,” he explained, “He works for the Ministry.” He turned back to Minerva, “He said that there were Aurors being dispatched to obliviate muggles that had been witness to a very serious attack in Faere Dhu and he was wondering if I had seen anything, and I disapparated to the village to see if there was something I ought to be doing to help before the aurors arrived and what I found was the pub bartender and old Dougal McGregor and Dou was injured something awful, Min… Something awful. He’s a terrible heart to begin with, he’s worn his heart right to the ground, they say… Drinking and the like. Arrhythmia.”

She was staring at Malcolm so intently, her stew still untouched, despite Sirius and Malcolm’s urging, and Sirius lowered the spoon he’d been using to shovel stew into his own mouth and looked at her and took her hand, squeezing it comfortingly. He could feel her nerves shaking.

“I don’t know who, but somebody hexed him… hexed him good, they did. He was broken as I’ve ever seen a man, Min. I brought him here and Halley performed a good deal of magical healing and gave him some skelegro, but whatever curse the bloke who’s attacked him struck him with, its destroyed his heart… Halley did all she could do. We turned him over to the muggle doctors, and he’s now in the hospital in Caithness. He’s dying, Min. There ain’t a way to stop it.” Sirius looked up at Minnie, and he saw her jaw clench and loosen as Malcolm spoke, and finally, he got to the end of his speech, and she covered her eyes with her hands. Sirius put his arm about her shoulders and glanced at Malcolm, who was frowning at Minerva deeply. “I’m sorra, Min… I’m verra sorra.”

“I need to see him,” Minnie choked.

Malcolm hesitated. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea, Min,” he said.

She looked up at him with tears on the fringes of her eyelashes.

“It’s just that Mrs. McGregor’s been by his side ev’r minute… and his bairns as well…”

Sirius looked at Malcolm. “Merlin’s beard, man, if it’s a distraction you need, I’m a bleedin’ professional at ‘em.”




Peter had let Remus wait as long as was safe before prodding him to get up and take his bag and go to the Shrieking Shack without Sirius. It was with an equal amount of struggle that he got James up to go along with, too. “But what if Meg’s in the common room?” James had worried, “Bloody hell, she’s probably told everyone in the school what an idiot I am. They’ll all be staring at me, making fun of me. Bloody hell.”

“I reckon that Meg’s a good deal more embarrassed on it than you are,” Peter said wisely. “I doubt she’ll be telling anyone besides maybe her closest friends.”

“One of which is Evans!” James exclaimed. “Oh gods. She’s gonna know. I’m never living this down.”

“Well, when Sirius finds out you’re doomed anyway,” Remus intoned from the end of his bed.

“Oh GODS,” James moaned, flopping onto the bed and covering his face with his pillow. “Kill me. Let me lie here and die.”

Peter said, “At least it won’t be me he’s making fun of for a time.”

James moaned again and shook his head beneath the pillow.

Remus, who was struggling to pull on his jumper, let out a whimper of pain and it was that which made James move at last.

Together, James and Peter gathered Remus’s things and got him bundled up in his jumpers and carried his bag down the stairs. They made it to the third floor corridor before Remus’s knees started to give out and James hoisted him up onto his back and carried Remus through the castle and out the door onto the grounds, keeping an eye on the Map to be sure there was no one to see as they ran down the sloping grounds to the shadows beneath the Whomping Willow and into the tunnel.

“Where’s Padfoot?” whimpered Remus. “I need Sirius.”

“Dunno mate,” James answered as Peter ran ahead to push open the trap door in the floor of the Shack. “Perhaps McGonagall finally transfigured him into a fly and squashed him.”

“No, she can’t. I need him.”

“We’ll get you settled and we’ll have Wormtail go back and seek him out,” James promised.

Remus groaned as they reached the trapdoor and James shoved him up through, Peter pulling him up. They’d only just made it, too, for Remus was on the couch no longer than ten minutes before his skin started bursting with wolf fur and he shuddered onto the floor, his spine and knees cracking as his nose burst into a snout…

“Go back to the castle, Pete, and find Sirius,” James said hurriedly, and as Peter ran for the trap door, James transformed into the stag as the werewolf let out a long, sad howl to the moon.