Deception

At first, despite his obvious discomfort, Harry did not put much weight on Sirius's arm. Sirius admired his courage. He was like his father in more ways than he could possibly realise. James would not have admitted weakness either; not unless he thought it might have garnered him some sympathy from Lily.

As they ascended staircase after staircase, Harry's steps slowed noticeably, and he began to stumble. His breath began to come in short gasps, and when Sirius tightened his arm around him and took more of his weight, he did not protest.

"Not long now, Harry," Sirius encouraged him. He wished he could see Harry's face better, but by necessity, they were both covered by the Invisibility Cloak, and it obscured his view.

"I'm okay," Harry panted.

He was not, Sirius knew, but there was no hope for it but to continue ever upwards and to find Madam Pomfrey the instant they arrived. She would know what to do.

When they reached the second floor, Harry collapsed, dragging the cloak off them. Sirius only barely had time to break his fall, the arm around the boy supporting most of his weight.

"Sorry," Harry panted.

"It's fine," Sirius assured him. "We'll wait a few moments for you to catch your breath, and then we'll continue on."

"No," Harry protested. "You heard what Professor McGonagall said. There's not much time. You have to get out of here before you get caught."

"If you tell me to leave without you, I'm going to turn into Snuffles and bite you," Sirius said, allowing a smile to conceal his worry. "Surely you can do better than an old cliché like that."

Harry returned Sirius's smile with a feeble one of his own. "I'd never forgive myself if I was the reason you got sent back to Azkaban," he said. "Please, Sirius. Get out of here. Someone will find me and help me to the hospital wing."

"But perhaps they'll be too late to help you," Sirius pointed out. "At the very least there will be a lot of awkward questions to answer."

"I'll be okay," Harry assured him weakly.

"I'll carry you," Sirius decided, ignoring the assurance. "There's no use in arguing, Harry. I won't leave you here."

Before Harry could come up with any more arguments, Sirius bent down and hauled the boy up onto his shoulder. He barely managed to stifle the gasp of pain that the movement elicited. His bruised cheekbone screamed out its agony as he bent forward and Harry's foot bumped the ribs that Snape had so recently injured, sending a jolt of pain through them.

Harry had caught the cloak with the tips of his fingers. Somehow Sirius managed to pull it so it covered both of them again. "OK, hang in there, Harry," he said. "I'll get you there soon."

The journey to the hospital wing was pure agony. Every step Sirius took lit a fire in his ribs. He gritted his teeth, refusing to give his godson any indication of just how much pain he was in.

Just before they reached the third floor landing, they had a bit of a scare. Filch, drenched in swamp water, shuffled down the stairs past them. Sirius had to press against the banisters to avoid being run into. Harry couldn't suppress a soft groan, and Filch looked around wildly.

"Who's there?" the caretaker demanded wheezily. "Students are not to be out of bed at this hour."

Neither Harry nor Sirius made another sound.

Filch climbed back up the stairs to the landing and prowled about, opening doors and peering inside. "I know you're hiding here somewhere," he wheezed. "When I find you, you'll be very sorry."

Sirius waited until the caretaker's attention was wholly occupied in searching one of the nearby rooms, and then he carefully ascended the last few remaining stairs to the third floor. It took a considerable effort to move silently with Harry draped heavily over his shoulder, but Sirius had spent years perfecting the art of sneaking past Filch. Although it felt like an eternity, it could only have been minutes until he was easing himself through the doors of the hospital wing.

His shoulders and back were throbbing painfully, and his ribs ached so badly that he could hardly concentrate, but Sirius refused to stop until he had laid Harry on one of the white-sheeted beds. Pausing to catch his breath, he was relieved to note that the only patients in the room were asleep. He had been in so much pain that he'd momentarily forgotten that the room might not have been empty. He had no doubt that even the sickest of students would have remembered the sudden appearance out of thin air of a student and a known fugitive.

Harry lay barely conscious. As Sirius snuck back to the door to watch Filch give up the chase and begin back down the stairs, he contemplated his latest dilemma. He would have to alert Madam Pomfrey immediately, but doing so would reveal his presence in the castle. He had no hesitation in sacrificing his freedom for Harry's life, but once back in Azkaban, he would be powerless to protect his godson against Snape and his other enemies.

He had just decided to tear through the ward as Snuffles – that was sure to bring the nurse – when the woman solved the problem for him. She slipped into the ward holding a medicine tray and headed over to the beds to check on her patients. Hastily, Sirius pulled the Invisibility Cloak back around himself and slipped back into a corner of the room. No matter what anyone said, he would not leave until he knew Harry was well taken care of.

Madam Pomfrey startled and almost dropped her tray when she caught sight of Harry on the bed. "Harry Potter, I declare," she said, tut-tutting as she bustled over. "Now what have you been up to this time? You get yourself into almost as much trouble as Professor Hagrid." Sniffing, she added, "However, at least you have the sense to come and see me when you do. However did you get here in that state?"

From his vantage-point, Sirius hid a smile. Only Madam Pomfrey would have accepted Harry's appearance here at this time without wondering why he was up this late or where he had come from. He remembered more than one occasion when her willingness to accept the most transparent of explanations had served the Marauders well.

In moments, Madam Pomfrey had exposed the wound on Harry's chest and applied some purple-coloured ointment to it. Harry's groan cheered Sirius, an encouragement that he had not been too late. It was a marvel to watch the nurse at her work. She displayed not the slightest trace of indecision or worry as she dealt with Harry's condition. She even managed to coax his eyelids open and encourage him to swallow some medicine. The colour returned to his cheeks, his breathing became less laboured, and the pain-induced tightening of his face relaxed.

"Much better," Madam Pomfrey assured him as she pulled the blankets over him and tidied everything away. "We'll have you back in class in no time."

Sirius breathed a sigh of relief. Seeing Harry on the way to recovery lightened his heart so much that the pain in his ribs and his cheek seemed no more than an irritation. It was time to go. Carefully, he eased himself out of his hiding place and stole towards the door, securely hidden from view by the Invisibility Cloak.

Moments before he reached it, it swung back open. Professor McGonagall slipped through, her brow creasing in a frown as she glanced around the room.

Madam Pomfrey looked up from attending to one of the other patients. "Oh, Professor," she greeted. "I was going to come and see you first thing in the morning. I found Harry Potter in here, lying on one of the beds in an awful state. I'm afraid he will be unable to attend classes tomorrow."

Minerva nodded tersely. "We need to conceal him, Poppy," she said quietly. "Argus is bringing Professor Umbridge in. She is confused and disoriented. He believes that she has been attacked, but she has merely fallen foul of a Confundus Charm. I need you to keep Potter out of her sight and to conceal the true nature of her illness from Argus and from Dolores herself when she recovers. Will you do this for me?"

For a moment, the nurse and the Transfiguration professor stared at each other. For the first time since he'd arrived, Sirius could see indecision in Madam Pomfrey's expression. After what seemed to be an agonisingly long time, she nodded and turned to draw the privacy curtain around Harry's bed.

Minerva relaxed, looking so relieved that Sirius realised what a gamble she must have just taken. "Thank you, Poppy," she said. "We are in your debt."

Madam Pomfrey merely nodded. "Has Professor Umbridge injured herself?" she asked.

"No," Minerva assured her. "Argus and I have taken care that she would not stumble in her confused state. I had better return for her."

As Minerva left, Madam Pomfrey returned to her patients, feeling their foreheads, checking their colour and tucking them in. Sirius remained behind the door. Before he left he wanted to see how this new twist would play out. He couldn't have imagined that Professor McGonagall would put Harry in danger by leading that woman here. How could she take such a risk?

Several minutes later, the double doors opened once more and Professor Umbridge struggled through, supported by Minerva and Filch. Madam Pomfrey came forward to assist, leading the group to the bed furthest away from that in which Harry lay.

"She's been attacked," Filch exclaimed. "We've got to find out what's been done to her so that we know who to blame for this!"

"Attacked?" Madam Pomfrey repeated, exchanging a look with Minerva, who shook her head slightly. "I shall be very thorough in my examination and treatment, I assure you, Mr. Filch."

Filch looked so relieved that Sirius entertained the notion that perhaps the relationship between Minerva and Dumbledore was not the only romance blossoming in the Hogwarts staffroom.

"Perhaps you should attend to your duties, Mr. Filch," Madam Pomfrey suggested firmly.

Filch grumbled under his breath but took the hint, shuffling out the door.

"Now, let me have a look at you," the nurse said, turning to Professor Umbridge and examining her carefully. "Yes," she said, glancing at Minerva, "I see what you mean, Professor. She is in no danger, except to herself if she wanders off or falls." She glanced over to the screened bed where Harry was concealed.

"I suggest a sleeping draught," she decided. "By the time it wears off, she'll be herself again."

"Does she really need to sleep it off here?" Minerva asked sharply.

"Not if someone were to check in on her from time to time," Madam Pomfrey mused.

"I'll have one of the house-elves sit with her and inform you if anything changes," Minerva decided. "Will that be sufficient, Poppy?"

"It should be," Madam Pomfrey responded, glancing once again at the bed that contained Harry. "You understand that if her condition deteriorates, or if anything goes amiss, I will have to keep her here?"

"Of course, Poppy," Minerva agreed. "I wouldn't expect any less of you."

A fitting job for a house-elf, Sirius mused, watching Minerva and Poppy guide Umbridge out of the ward. Once they were safely gone, he snuck back over to Harry's bed, carefully checking that the other patients were asleep before pulling back the privacy curtain and slipping in.

Pulling the cloak off himself, he approached the bed and patted Harry's arm gently. "I have to go now," he told the boy. "You make sure you get better. Minerva will let me know how you are, and I'll be in touch as soon as I can."

Harry opened his eyes drowsily. "Bye, Sirius," he muttered thickly. "It was good to see you." His eyes fluttered closed once more.

Sirius smiled. He stood there longer than he should have, just watching Harry sleep. Finally, he slipped out of the ward under cover of the cloak and made his way as silently as possible to the Headmistress's office. Filch seemed to have finally gone to bed, or at least, to be patrolling another part of the castle, because Sirius was able to reach his destination without encountering either him or his cat.

The door of the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor's office opened easily with the knife that Sirius carried – the twin of one he had given Harry two Christmases ago. Pulling the cloak off himself, he reached for the box of floo powder near the fire and nearly spilt it everywhere when a voice interrupted him.

"I wondered if you'd left yet," Professor McGonagall said. She was sitting at a lace-covered table. She certainly hadn't been there a moment before. This time he hadn't forgotten to check before he revealed himself.

It took a moment for Sirius to realise what had happened, and when he did, he could have kicked himself for his stupidity. Of course. Minerva had used his own trick against him, lurking in her animagus form.

"I was just going now," Sirius said, his tone tight. "That was dangerous, bringing Umbridge to the hospital wing."

"I had no choice," Minerva responded. "Argus discovered her. It would have looked very suspicious if I had failed to make sure that she had the proper treatment. Neither you nor Harry would have benefited by the close scrutiny that would have certainly followed."

"Nor you, nor Snape," Sirius pointed out bitterly.

"None of us would have," Minerva agreed. "But now she is fast asleep in her bed, and by tomorrow, the whole thing will seem like a dream."

"Filch will remember," Sirius reminded her.

"Severus has promised to take care of that," Minerva said. She paused, eyeing him thoughtfully and then continued, "In return for a service from you."

"From me!" Sirius sputtered. "I wouldn't spit on him if he were on fire. Are you forgetting what happened between us tonight? He's the reason that Harry's lying in the hospital wing!"

"That was just as much your fault as his, Sirius Black," Minerva responded sternly.

"If he weren't such a snivelling –"

"Sirius, this serves no purpose. You and Harry need Argus's silence as much as we do."

Sirius glared at her. Minerva must know how much the request to assist Snape galled her. "What does he want?" he gritted out.

"Your silence," Minerva replied. "You forced his secrets from him."

"I don't think so!" Sirius growled. "After all these years, I finally have something over that cowardly excuse for a human being. Finally I'll be able to stop him torturing Harry."

"Harry is safe," Minerva said shortly. "Do you think that I would fail to protect any of my students from harm?"

"He's been tormenting him for years!" Sirius snapped. "He's mean and petty, and he's caused Harry more trouble –"

"And one word from him, one hint that you were here in the castle, and you'll have the Ministry on your back again," Minerva pointed out. "Do you think like it? I don't want your secret to 'accidentally' slip out like Remus's did. Harry's in every bit as much danger. Severus could as easily reveal that Harry's hiding your location. Do you want your godson subjected to that?"

Sirius said nothing. She was right of course, but the whole thing set his stomach churning in distaste. He felt so disheartened. He hadn't succeeded in convincing Snape to recommence Harry's Occlumency lessons, and now he couldn't even blackmail the man into treating his godson better. Just what had his visit achieved?

"No," he admitted. "I don't."

"I told him that you would keep your word to me, if you gave it." Minerva said. "Don't let me down, Sirius Black."

"Very well, I give you my word," he grumbled sullenly. "Are you happy now?"

"Not quite," Minerva said. She paused, as though her next words were harder to say. "I need you to keep my secret too."

Sirius just eyed her, allowing his frustration to show on his face.

"You tricked me, Sirius," she said. "You had no right to slip that Veritaserum into my drink. I trusted you."

Sirius said nothing. He was still angry with her, still furious that she'd risked exposing Harry by taking Umbridge to the hospital wing, that she had ruined his revenge on Snape. Just then, he hated her.

"Very well," Minerva said, sighing. "I cannot force you to do as I ask. I will not hold you hostage as Severus did. You had better leave before you are discovered here."

Sirius wordlessly handed her the Invisibility Cloak. "Would you keep that safe for Harry?" he asked.

"Of course," Minerva said. Her voice was distant. She did not look at him. Instead, she got up from the straight-backed chair and walked towards the door of the office. "I will see you shortly, I'm sure," she said.

"Good night, Minerva," Sirius replied. He, too, avoided her eyes. He felt slightly uneasy. Anger at himself fuelled his rage at her. She'd rescued him from Severus, and he knew he should be grateful, but he couldn't bring himself to say the words that would ease her mind. Instead, he simply threw a pinch of the Floo powder into the fire and vanished into the emerald green flames.

***

Minerva never really knew if Sirius had said anything to Dumbledore. The Headmaster was positively inscrutable. When he returned to Hogwarts, his manner of warm respect towards her remained unchanged. Desperately, she wished that that was because he had no idea how she felt about him. It would have been unbearable if Sirius had revealed her secret to him and he just hadn't cared enough to do anything about it.

Snape was as good as his word. Filch's only memories of the night seemed to be of endlessly cleaning swamp water. He certainly never launched his investigation into the 'attack' on the Headmistress, and Dolores herself continued on as if nothing had happened.

Harry was discharged from the hospital wing the next evening. Fortunately, he had no Defence Against the Dark Arts class scheduled for the day he was absent, and the rest of the teachers calmly accepted Minerva's excuses for him. None of them chose to enlighten the Headmistress that he'd missed classes and so she never had cause to look into the cause of his injuries.

Minerva's most enduring regret from that night was that she had never afterwards found the time to wrest the bottled memory from Snape. Even whilst he still taught at Hogwarts, she hadn't really trusted him, but in the following days and months, every time she determined to confront him about it something came up which seemed much more urgent. Over time she completely forgot that Severus possessed hard evidence of some of Dolores's most guarded secrets. If she'd only known that he would later use them to gain a spy for the Death Eaters within the Ministry, one whose powers of ingratiation permitted her access to key policy decisions, she would have never have allowed him to keep it. That was a mistake Minerva regretted until the end of her life.