Chapter Forty-One
"Seeking Silence"

Page Two

Soft droplets of sea-spray pecked Harry's cheeks as he basked in the warm sunlight that danced along his skin. The gentle sway of the ocean waves rocked him as the cloudless sky stretched out endlessly before him. A blank canvas of life left for him to paint upon and the first etchings would be, he believed, his fondest memories.

"Harry," called Sirius from inside the galley, "Your burger's getting cold, you'd better come off the bow before you fall into the water and I have to swim out to save you."

Harry grinned as he curled onto his side and looked back at the deck of Sirius's houseboat, watching Sirius as he brought a platter out to a small white table, resplendent in various foods. Potato chips, warm Jamaican coconut milk, pineapples and freshly ground beef patties unlike anything he had ever tasted.

Sirius placed the platter of steaming cheeseburgers on the table and promptly looked up at Harry, his apron proudly proclaiming 'Kiss the cook and get cursed.'

"Come on, then," he said, a wide smile lighting up his face. "Don't want your first real, hand-made, grilled-to-perfection cheeseburger to get cold, do you?"

Harry leapt down from his safety net of rigging and onto the deck, running over to the table. With each step he took the scent of fresh food meeting his nostrils in gentle wafts. He sat at the table and as he began to receive instructions on how to "properly dress an American cheeseburger", a great snowy owl swooped overhead, battling with the sea winds, finally perching itself on the edge of the galley roof.

"Hello, Hedwig," said Harry as he waved to his seafaring owl, ketchup covering his fingers. Sirius got up from the table and quickly removed a letter clasped in Hedwig's clutches. As he began to walk back toward the table, Hedwig clucked her beak in astonishment at not being given a treat. Sirius smiled at her over his shoulder and tossed a small brick of cheddar cheese at her, which she caught in her beak with astonishing precision, quickly swallowing it whole.

"Who's it from?" asked Harry through a mouth full of potato chips.

"It's from Remus," laughed Sirius softly as he read the letter. "He's decided to stay at Hogwarts. He says he misses you dearly, but you'll be seeing plenty of him come fall…" Sirius looked up over the letter and grinned at Harry. "He's going to be your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Harry laughed, hurriedly bringing his napkin to his lips to hide his mouthful of cheeseburger. "Snape decided he didn't want the job, then?"

Sirius shook his head. "Old Sevey went to Minerva and said now that he's had a taste of it, he's decided he much prefers his old cauldrons and 'simmering potions'."

"Looks like Hogwarts is going to be perfect next year."

"Perfect?" retorted Sirius, pretending to be offended. "How could it be perfect when the faculty is still missing a certain fellow who's a god at grilling cheeseburgers?"

Harry's eyes lit up as his mouth gaped open, completely forgetting the cheeseburger in his mouth.

"That's right," continued Sirius, puffing out his chest. "They've asked me to fill in Minerva's place as Transfiguration teacher. Good choice, I'd say, asking the youngest student to ever teach himself how to shape-shift."

Sirius put the letter carefully under the pickle jar and began to pile lettuce, tomatoes, bacon and mayonnaise on his cheeseburger.

"Hogwarts will be much more exciting next year, don't you think?" he smiled, holding his burger to his mouth and peaking over the top bun at Harry, "Now that the old gang's back in town."

* * *

McGonagall sat down at her desk as a cool breeze swept in through the open window. Her soot black owl ruffled its wings as it slept in its cage, perched precariously on a willow branch. McGonagall felt a shiver up her spine as the candlelight echoed off the opal she held in her hands, weaving around the room just as it had in the gargoyle hall so many days ago. It must have been knocked loose as the ceiling caved in upon the gargantuan statue of Lord Voldemort, for it was found on the other side of the room, resting at the foot of a statue of a very tall, slender man with hair that reached his elbows. Unwilling to simply toss the beautiful egg-shaped oval aside, leaving it to be forgotten in a rubbish heap, McGonagall kept it safely locked away in her office. Something about it enchanted her as she constantly found herself glancing at it as she worked.

She spun it around in her palm, looking at its many prisms; torrents of light locked inside its perfectly rounded edges.

A sound came from the other side of her office door as the handle turned and the door swung open. Lupin stood in the doorway, smiling happily at her. "Hagrid's insisted upon making lunch for us. It's just about ready," he said, walking over to her desk.

McGonagall looked up at him, continuing to palm the cold opal.

"Are you alright?" asked Lupin, looking into her eyes.

She smiled back at him, passing the opal from hand to hand, looking back at a disheveled heap of reports that sat atop her desk. "I'm not sure, Remus," she whispered, "Something just doesn't feel right… it's almost like I can still hear him, inside my head, taunting me as if he were still sitting at that piano, playing that horrid song."

Lupin walked to her side and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It'll pass. You've been through a lot these past few months. I'd be shocked if you recovered fully within the week."

"But it's not just him," said McGonagall, looking up at Lupin, her eyes intense. "There are others… my father. I've never remembered him so vividly, or heard his voice as if he were so close. And Dumbledore. It feels like he's the one standing where you are, his hand on my shoulder, telling me he's alright, just…"

"Lost," interrupted Lupin softly. "I've had similar thoughts, sitting in this cold office."

McGonagall sighed as she looked back at the opal in her hand. There was so much she missed, so much she wished she could have done before Voldemort had disappeared.

"Do you remember Old Man McKinnon?" she said quietly, placing her hand on Lupin's.

"Our old Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

McGonagall nodded, her cold palm soothed by the warmth of Lupin's hand. "I hear him as well, I can almost see him… and James. As if they're both as real and alive as you are."

"It's probably nothing, you just need rest," interjected Lupin. "Come down to lunch, it might do you some good."

"Maybe you're right." McGonagall walked over to a mahogany cabinet in the corner of her office, behind her desk. She unlocked its upper cupboard and placed the opal on a red velvet perch. Locking the cupboard once more, she walked back over to Lupin and smiled, grabbing his hand and holding it tightly. "They seem quieter already."

The End

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