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The Hogshead Pub


Sirius was laying on his back in the dormitory, his head hanging off the end of his bed, watching his record spin on the player, the sound of Smoke on the Water filled the room. He smiled and closed his eyes, using his wand as though it were a guitar, making faces as he raised his pelvis about, dancing laying down to the sound of the music.

Remus burst through the door, breathless, “Professor Veigler’s in trouble and we gotta help him!” he shouted. He ran to his bed and threw himself to the floor, reaching under his mattress for the Marauder’s Map.

Sirius sat up, dropping his wand onto the bed. “What?” he shouted over the music.

“VEIGLER IS IN TROUBLE!” Remus answered.

Sirius pulled the needle away from the record, stopping Deep Purple from singing. He looked over at Remus in concern, “Trouble? How’s he in trouble?”

“I dunno,” Remus answered. He had thrown the map across Peter’s empty bed and flipped it open. Now he was searching the castle, his eyes flickering over every dot across it. “He can’t have gone too far yet…” he murmured, desperately, “Help me find him!”

Sirius threw himself over James’s bed, tumbling to the floor between James’s and Peter’s and stood up, looking over the map for the dot labelled Veigler. “Where was he last?”

“His office,” Remus said, “We were talking about -- about -- well about you and suddenly he said ‘it’s not the one I thought’ - he said something about the Boy - and then he had to go and see Dumbledore. He said it was imperative. Then he said goodbye. Like he wasn’t ever coming back.” Remus was frantic. “Sirius, I think there’s something terrible going to happen to him tomorrow. I think Greyback’s gonna try to kill him.”

“What?” Sirius looked surprised, “Wait. Slow down. You were talking to him about me?”

Yes,” Remus said, “And then he had to go --”

“What about me?”

“We were talking about the Alpha and Omega and Beta stuff,” he explained, “And I - I dunno, I wanted to know more about Beta wolves and Veigler knows everything and he’s not gonna tell our secret to anyone. He’s trustworthy --”

“You git!” Sirius said, “You told him about me being an animagus?”

Remus looked up in surprise at the angry tone to Sirius’s voice. “I - I mean, I -”

“He knows how to make people believe he’s trustworthy even if he’s not! He could’ve used the falsum fidelum on you!”

“No, he didn’t,” Remus said, “Sirius, he’s an alright guy --”

“You hated him for half the year and now you decide you like him suddenly?” Sirius asked skeptically. “Doesn’t that sound like the falsum fidelus to you?”

Remus said, “I didn’t like him because he smelled like Greyback, it got my suspicions up. But my instincts were wrong about Veigler. He’s an alright guy. He’s a great guy, even. I’ve really got close with him the last month, Sirius. He’s like - he’s like a brother. And right now I’m really, really scared that Fenrir Greyback’s coming to get him.”

“Why?”

“I told you, he said goodbye. Like a real goodbye,” Remus said, panicked, “Like the kinda goodbye you say when you don’t think you’re ever going to see somebody again.”

Sirius stared at Remus and it was so very clear that Remus was truly terrified. Sirius had never seen him hold so much fear in his eyes - other than, perhaps, the night of the dream.

“Sirius, please.”

It was the tone in Remus’s voice - the raw sound of fear - which awoke something in Sirius and he felt a fiery feeling rise up in him. If something was so real a threat to Rey that he looked and sounded like that, then Sirius would do whatever it took to reassure him that it was okay. He looked down at the Map, a renewed vigor to find Veigler on the map burned inside him. “Where was he headed when you saw him last?”

“To see Dumbledore,” Remus answered.

Sirius turned the bits of map about to look at Dumbledore’s office.

“No, no… I went to the office,” Remus said, shaking his head, “The gargoyle outside said Dumbledore’s left and there hadn’t been anybody by.”

Sirius rubbed his chin. “Okay, so Dumbledore’s left the castle… I’m guessing Veigler knows where Dumbledore’s gone. Probably down to Hogsmeade - he goes to the Hog’s Head, he said that that one night, out in the Shack, when I was hiding in the tunnel. Maybe he’s there.”

Remus said, “So you think maybe Professor Veigler’s gone to Hogsmeade, too, to find Dumbledore?”

“Probably,” Sirius nodded.

“So we need to go to Hogsmeade to find Veigler,” said Remus decidedly.

Sirius hesitated for only a moment. “Okay.” He turned around and looked about the room, trying to decide the best plan. It only took him a moment - quickly, he pushed open James’s trunk and took out the invisibility cloak lying within. “James won’t mind if we borrow this,” he said.

“Good thinking,” Remus nodded.

They hastened to write a note for James and Peter, who had gone to the library - Peter for a book, James to spy on Lily and Severus Snape - and left it on the foot of James’s bed, simply telling them they were leaving and would tell them all about what happened when they got back. Then they ran for the corridor, carrying the Marauder’s Map, their wands, and their cloaks. The castle was quiet - it was getting late, a lot of the students were back to their common rooms already, as the time to clear out of the hall was coming soon. Nobody even noticed the two Gryffindor boys running for the statue of Gunhilda of Gorsemoore.

Dissendium,” Sirius announced when they arrived to the crooked old witch’s statue, and the hump opened up. Remus gave Sirius a push up into the hole and Sirius grabbed Remus’s arms and tugged him along with him… and away they went, running through the darkness, toward the basement of Honeyduke’s.




Fenrir Greyback sat low in a booth in the Hogshead pub, a cloak ‘round him, obscuring his features. He held a pint of mead in his hands. On one side, sat Orion Black, and the other, Rudolphus Lestrange. Rudolphus Lestrange chewed vulgarly on a roast chicken leg, his teeth breaking through bone and meat alike, the grease sliding in shiny currents over his rough hewn chin. Greyback’s voice was low and annoyed, “Clean your face, you dog,” he said thickly.

Rudolphus picked up a napkin from the table and swept it across his face.

The door opened and all three of them turned to look. It was only a narrow-shouldered figure in a long black cloak, carrying a briefcase, and nothing more.

“He ain’t comin’,” growled Rudolphus, “Why are we still waitin’ here?”

“He’ll come,” Greyback said confidently.

Orion lifted his stein of mead to his mouth and watched as the narrow figure that had entered crossed the bar and took a seat with Rubeus Hagrid. He sneered at the shape of Rubeus sitting there in the booth, then turned back to Greyback and Lestrange.

“I’ve got bloody other things to do, you know, besides sit about in a pub waitin’ on a bleedin’ apparition. Why don’t you just go on and tell Voldemort you made a mistake?” Lestrange demanded, “Own up to your errs.”

The door opened again and, as though on cue, in walked Ned Veigler.

A smile spread across Greyback’s mouth.

“As you were saying, Rudolphus?” Orion asked.

“Bloody sodder actually come, I’m bleedin’ shock,” Rudolphus muttered.

Veigler looked around the pub and he spotted Greyback and his crew and he looked slightly surprised to see them. He motioned to the bartender for a drink and went to sit with the three death eaters, his eyes still scanning the crowd. “What are you three doing here?” he asked.

Greyback’s smile only widened, “Checking in on you, of course, Ned. How are things for tomorrow? Are we ready or will I get to kill you instead of the Boy?” He leaned forward.

“I think the results will be quite pleasing,” Veigler replied.

Greyback snickered, “They best be. The Dark Lord doesn’t give a damn if I rip out your jugular, remember that, Ned. You’re mine to do with as I please.” He snapped his teeth at him.

Ned Veigler looked pale, but he nodded, “Yes… yes, I remember.” He stiffened as the door to the pub opened and the headmaster walked in, talking to a young man Professor Veigler was fairly certain must’ve been Fabian Prewett. He hastened to turn his back to Dumbledore. Fenrir’s eyes moved slowly from the old Headmaster to the nervous man before him and his eyebrow cocked.

“Were we expecting to meet somebody else here tonight, Ned?” Fenrir asked quietly.

Orion Black was watching as Dumbledore walked through the pub with the younger man, his eyes following their movement as they got drinks at the bar and then went to a table not far from Rubeus Hagrid and the mysterious man with the briefcase. “We ought not to be here,” he murmured darkly.

Rudolphus Lestrange followed Orion’s gaze, and he nodded, draining his mead in one go. “Let’s go.”

Greyback stood up, his chair scraping the wood. “Come along, Ned,” he said lowly, his voice a growl, “We have some things to discuss.”

Professor Veigler followed them out the door, his knees like gelatin.




Dumbledore’s eyes followed Veigler as he left with the three men who had been sitting in the corner of the pub. His beard twitched with concern when the Hogshead door closed behind Veigler’s retreating back. He looked at Fabian Prewett. “Something is wrong.”

“What is it?” Fabian asked, leaning closer.

“Ned’s just left. He was there in the corner with Rudolphus Lestrange, Orion Black, and, if I’m not mistaken, Fenrir Greyback. He’s just left with them.”

“Double crossing us?” Fabian asked.

Dumbledore shook his head, “Keeping up the charade for them, I would guess, but there was something wrong.”

Fabian looked concerned, “Like what?”

“I’m not sure,” Dumbledore replied.

“Shall we follow them?” Fabian asked.

Dumbledore hesitated, “I don’t know. I don’t want to put Ned into more danger than he’s already in…” Finally, he said, “You stay here. I’ll send a signal if I need you,” and he got up, crossed the bar, and disappeared out the door into the snowy Hogsmeade street, following after the footprints in the fresh fallen snow.

Fabian meanwhile drank some of the mead he’d bought, looking lazily around. At the next table over, he noticed Hagrid sitting and clutching something, looking quite pleased.

“What’s that, Hagrid?” Fabian called.

“It’s a gif’ from -- from this traveller here,” he said thickly, and he held up a blanket that encased what appeared to be a very small dog. “I’m goin’ ter name ‘im Fluffy,” Hagrid added happily.

“Fluffy?” Fabian looked at the wrinkly little mutt in the blanket, and just as he was about to pat the tiny little head… another erupted from the blanket’s folds. “Blimey!” he cried out, “Three pups, Hagrid?”

“Nawh, Fabian, it’s only one yer see,” Hagrid explained, cheerfully, “He’s a cerebus!” He looked quite proud.

Fabian looked warily at the three headed dog as one of the heads snapped playfully at another, biting and tugging on it’s ear roughly. “Oh… oh my. Well that’s… very… it’s very cute Hagrid,” he said because he didn’t know what else one should say about another person’s three headed dog. He glanced at the mysterious traveller across from Hagrid. “What’d you say your name was again?” Fabian asked.

But the man across from Hagrid was very careful to keep his cloak hood low so that all that Fabian could see was the bottom of the man’s chin and the way his slightly over large teeth rested on his lower lip. “I - I didn’t say, but - oh my, look at the - uh- the time… I do need to go…” he stood up, carefully staying turned away from Fabian Prewett. “Long way to go to get, uh, back to - to, uh, Greece, you know… being a mysterious traveller like my, uh, myself.”

Fabian narrowed his eyes.

“Do take care of Fluffy now, Mr. Hagrid,” said the traveller, and he quickly hastened out of the pub.

Fabian turned to Hagrid. “What the bloody hell’re you goin’ to do with a three headed dog?”

Hagrid hugged Fluffy to his chest quite happily, even as two of the three heads snapped to grab hold of his beard and started to pull upon it roughly. “Goin’ ter take care’a him!” he announced, his eyes twinkling. “Yeah that’s right, lit’l feller, yer knowin’ who yer mumma is… That’s right…” and he lowered a finger to the puppy heads and one of them bit it roughly.

Fabian’s eyebrow raised.